Traded To The Cruel Alpha

Trying To Escape

Serafine POV

When a werewolf gives birth to twins, it's not seen as a blessing, but a curse. Only one can survive, the goddess demands balance within the werewolf world. One life for another. If the stronger twin does not consume the weaker one in the womb, then only one will take their first breath when they are born. Serafine Nightbourne should never have been the one to survive.

I wasn't meant to be the chosen one, that's what my father tells me. He never lets me forget that I'm weak and have stolen my brother’s place. Today, I foolishly thought I could escape, I didn't even get past the border before the guards grabbed me.

My body thrashes as I try to escape their grasp, but they don't care. They drag me behind them, and I hold back the screams as the ground tears at my skin. It makes no sense, my father and pack hate me, so why not let me go? I'm a burden, a strain, and unwanted, so they shouldn't care that I tried to run.

Still, I fight, I twist, and I claw at their hands but not one of them loosens their grip. Suddenly, I'm thrown forward, my body hitting the floor hard, my breath is ripped from my lungs by the force of it. I listen as their boots scrape across the floor as they walk away. Why did they have to drag me back? They treat me like I'm nothing more than rubbish they have to deal with.

The scent of blood clings to me, it's sharp and metallic and I ignore the burning pain from where my skin has been scraped off. Lifting my head just enough to see around me, my body tenses when I notice the room. My father’s office, they brought me straight back to him instead of the cells. My eyes flicker across the towering bookshelves before going to the heavy oak desk. There he is, standing behind it, my father, looking at me with an expression that is full of hate.

Forcing myself onto my hands and knees, my body screams in protest. Every muscle is aching from my last punishment, from me trying to run and escape. My eyes flicker down, and I see the fresh grazes across my skin where I was dragged.

I don't make a sound, I don't groan or show that I'm in pain. The rules for me are simple, I shouldn't make noise. None, even if I'm being punished. If I speak without being given permission, I get punished. Although, not speaking also isn't guaranteed to keep me safe. A few times I haven't spoken and he's punished me.

Gideon Nightbourne, my father folds his arms as his gaze trails over me like I'm something disgusting and beneath him. People here don't care that I'm the future alpha, the only child to him. No doubt because he would rather burn the pack down than let me take over.

He looks at me like I'm cursed. "Pathetic." It might be one word, but it says a lot, and it drips with disappointment and malice. "You thought that you could run and escape?" He laughs, mocking.

Keeping my head down, I clench my jaw to ensure I don't say a word. If I do, I'll be punished, although, maybe I will be anyway?

There's no rules to when he can punish me, sometimes it's like he does it because he's bored and wants to have full control over someone.

"This is for existing," he would shout as he beat me. "This one is for stealing your brother’s place."

Yeah, sometimes even being silent, keeping my head down and behaving didn't protect me. There's no winning for me, and no escaping.

I hear his boots click against the stone as he walks toward me, his boots come into view as he stops. "Look at me," he orders and I look up at him. His head shakes as he clicks his tongue. "You will leave tomorrow," he says calmly. "You're never going to return."

My stomach drops, the words hit harder than I expect. I have dreaded this moment for years. I knew that my father was keeping me around until he could profit from me. I guess that day is today. I had hoped there would be warning, a few weeks' notice, not the day before. This was quick, which means whoever it is, I'm not going to like it.

"To whom?" I ask, and flinch, realizing that I spoke.

There's a pause, and I get ready for the hit. "Xander Voss."

Him not hitting me for speaking now makes sense, my breath catches in my throat. Xander Voss, a rogue alpha. He's a man whispered about in secret that many fear, they call him a beast without mercy. His name alone is enough to send shivers through the strongest wolves, and now, I belong to him.

This isn't about tying together two families, I assumed he would give me to another pack, to strengthen ties. I know that isn't what this is.

"You're selling me," I whisper. It's not a question, it's a fact. My father gains nothing from giving me to Xander, so this is about money, or what he gets in return. It's not about an alliance.

He exhales slow and measured as if this is wasting his time. "You were never mine to keep."

Those words hit hard, how can he say that? That I was never his to keep? I'm still his daughter. I was the one chosen to live between me and my brother.

He says nothing else as he moves towards the door, dismissing the entire conversation the moment he steps outside. Staring at the ground, my pulse thunders in my ears. My body hurts, and my soul is broken because my fate is sealed. I thought living here was bad, but Xander? That's a nightmare waiting to happen.

I tried to run, to save myself and get away, but I failed, and now, the guards will follow me everywhere to ensure I can't escape.

They will ensure I'm here tomorrow, so that I can be given to a man who is even more cruel than my own father, and for a change, I'm not sure if I will survive.

Preparing Me

As I stand, the guards move closer. I want to tell them they don't need to worry, I won't try to run again, only the guards aren't afraid to hit me. Then again, it's not like my father hasn't given the entire pack permission to punish me if they hear me speaking.

I step out of the office, and they guide me back to the cells. At least, that's what I call it. When we get there, they step back, and I walk inside. My room is nothing more than a cupboard. Bare walls, nothing to cover the worn, splintering wood floor, and of course, no window.

There isn't even a door for me, there's no privacy. The guards have to be able to see me at all times, apparently. All I have is a mattress and a pile of old, dirty, worn clothes because I'm not allowed anything new or to wash them.

So while there's no metal bars or prisoners, it's still a cell. It's not even mine. I was made aware from a young age that I couldn't claim the space as mine, I couldn't add anything to it or make it more personal. So yeah, it's a cell disguised as a bedroom.

I should be grateful for this small thing I have, because tomorrow, when I'm handed to that monster, I could literally be in a cell. I'm not sure why he wants me or what he is giving my father in return.

Clutching the one sheet I have, I pull it up to my throat to try and hide the unease building in me. The guard outside is staring at me. I'm not sure why, I can't escape the room. I'm not sure what is worse, the fact that my father has sold me like I'm nothing more than cattle or that the man who is buying me is the kind of rogue that every warrior fears.

The stories of him have spread a lot. Whenever my father throws parties, Xander is always a topic of conversation that comes up. He has no pack, no kingdom, and his army is built up of the discarded. Rogues, exiles, and killers without any loyalty. He doesn't follow the rules of our world. He's someone who makes his own. I have to wonder where he came from, no one knows that either. They just know he's feared.

No one can blame someone for fearing him. People say he has no mercy, he doesn't negotiate to get what he wants. He's the sort of person who takes what he wants and then destroys everything that steps in his way like they are nothing.

He's burnt down pack houses before, and if I'm honest, I feel like he's hunting for someone or something. He's searching, and this search has led to many deaths.

Now I'm his, and there's nothing I can do.

Still, I wonder what my father is gaining from this. I thought he would make me marry an Alpha from another pack, one that he could merge with or maybe utilize. Xander Voss is not a man who works with other packs. He doesn't help them either.

So did he pay with money? I dig my nails into my palm as I try and figure this out. There's no way he wants me to be his wife, not when there are better women out there. There's no way this is more than just a transaction. My father wouldn't let me leave unless he gains from it.

I know my father is likely getting money. He's not the issue, though. What could Xander possibly gain from taking me? From paying for me? He has no pack, no alliances where he must have a Luna.

The truth is, it doesn't matter. There is only one answer to all this, one thing that I need to remember.

My father wants me gone, and Xander was willing to pay to have me. That alone should be what terrifies me. He bought me like I'm an object. Nothing good can come from that, right?

Pressing my lips together, I try to slow my frantic breathing. I already know it's going to be worse living with Xander than me living here. My father may beat me, torture me, and make me feel like I stole someone else's place to exist. I know what to expect here, though. That's my safety net. Xander Voss is an unknown in this situation, and that's what I fear. Not knowing his plan for me.

My night is spent drifting in and out of sleep, over and over. I can't switch off my mind. I can't stop wondering what Xander looks like. He's never been here, I know that much. My father is making a deal with a man he's never seen or met.

A knock against the wall makes me flinch, but I don't move. I stay still and watch as the guard steps into the small space. "Get up."

I don't argue or hesitate because I would rather not be in pain when I'm handed to Xander. Moving slowly, my ribs still hurt from yesterday's punishment, but I ignore it and push up onto my feet.

The guard steps aside, and I walk out, following them as they lead me through the pack house. They stop outside a door, and I stand confused. It opens, and a maid motions me inside.

Stepping in, I look around. This is a forbidden room for me. I'm not allowed in the bathrooms.

"We've to clean you and make sure you're presentable for the Alpha and the wedding."

Clean me? I look around and notice the dress hanging up. Then, beneath it is a stack of clothing.

I don't move as she tries to pull me toward the tub.

"Your father has wished that you look good. He does not want you to represent this pack, but he has no choice, so his only option is to ensure you're seen well, cleaned, and clothed. You will take those few items with you to show that your father took care of you."

So he wants to pretend like he's not a monster. I almost laugh at that. Standing here, she strips me and throws my old clothes away, and I'm not sure I like this. Being scrubbed clean like I am something to be given. I don't say anything, though. The worst place to argue with my father's rules and orders would be in water. I have no doubt I wouldn't survive if they told him I refused his "kind offer."

When I'm clean, dressed, and ready, I stare at myself in the mirror. My dark hair flows down to the base of my spine. It's wavy. I've always seen it matted and a mess. My eyes are green, and my skin is pale, but not in a bad way. It's good, like all the dirt has been removed.

The guards begin to escort me again. The halls are silent as I'm led toward my fate, one I'm not sure I will survive. Focusing on my breathing, my heart pounds. I want to refuse to marry him, but I know where that will lead.

So I keep my head down and follow them in silence. All I can do is hope I don't endure hell where I'm going. My hope, though, is foolish. I know better. Where I'm going isn't going to be freedom or escape. It's going to be a new version of hell.

Married To Him

Serafine POV

No one says a word as they guide me into the grand hall of the pack house. I know this is where the ceremony will happen, although calling it a ceremony is an insult to the word. There's no decorations here, no celebrations, only a handful of uninterested witnesses stand at the front with my father and another man that I've never seen before.

Xander Voss. I know it's him, he's the only stranger here. It's funny, I should have known he would be handsome.

That's a cruel reality. The gods and goddesses seem to bless their monsters with striking beauty, almost like they are saying the world should admire them as they burn down your pack.

Xander is tall, towering over everyone else in the room. His body is clearly mostly muscle, I can see the shape beneath his clothing. When he moves, it's like he's radiating power. He's wearing all black, like he's wanting to blend into the shadows. A dark leather coat is stretched over his shoulder, and it flows down to his boots. When he shifts on his feet, it moves slightly. I've never seen a rogue, I've only heard stories, and the way Xander dresses is nothing like those in this pack.

It's dark, leather, and hidden.

My eyes go to his face. His features are sharp, and he has a strong jawline with high cheekbones. His lips, even pressed together hard, show that they are full and not flat. His eyes are gold, bright and piercing in a way I've never seen before unless someone shifts into their wolf. He looks like a predator who is hunting its prey.

When I get closer, he doesn't react. There's no smile toward me or softening of his gaze. That alone tells me everything I need to know. He doesn't care about me or who I am. I do know, though, that he's everything the stories said he was.

He's a beast, a killer, and a nightmare wrapped into an attractive shell that makes you think he's safe when really he's not. He's just biding his time before tearing you apart, piece by piece.

He steps closer, and my body tenses instantly. For a second, I think he might say something to me. He doesn't. He just looks at me. His expression is unreadable, but the way his gaze moves over my body is like he's evaluating exactly what he has bought. I force myself not to flinch or look away.

If I do, I'll be seen as weak in his eyes, and if I'm supposed to be his wife going forward, I shouldn't cower at him looking at me.

What I don't do is speak. I've no idea about his rules around that yet.

The priest starts the ritual, his voice is dull and low. He's acting like he's reading a lunch menu, wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. There's not a single ounce of joy, no acknowledgment that this is a wedding binding us together. Then again, this isn't a bond formed out of love or from us being mates. Hell, it's not even one out of alliance. It's a transaction, nothing more.

I do what I'm supposed to when I'm told and say what I am required to as well. There's no hesitation when I do it either. The moment the final words are spoken, the deal is sealed instantly.

I'm not sure what I had expected, but Xander doesn't touch me. He doesn't claim me in front of the others. There's no kiss like the ritual says he should. Instead, he turns and hands my father money. Then he glances at me briefly before turning and striding toward the doors without even a glance back to check if I'm following him.

His order is clear. I've to follow, not question it, not ask anything, just simply follow him. I look toward where my father is, but he doesn't meet my gaze. In a way, I respect that. Why waste your energy looking at something that no longer exists?

He sold me off, and in his world, that means I don't exist. He doesn't need to concern himself with me anymore.

With no other choice, I turn and begin to make my way outside, toward my husband, into the unknown.

Getting outside, the air is cold. It easily cuts through the thin fabric of my dress. There's a smell of damp earth and burning wood lingering. Stopping before the steps, I see the maid standing a few feet away. She holds out a small bag, and I know those are the new clothes I was given to keep up appearances.

"Your things," she says quietly. There's no kindness or pity in her voice, just duty. I take the bag without saying a word. It's far too light. There's nothing much in it, then again, I had nothing. These are the things he deemed necessary.

Swallowing hard, I turn and look at the pack once more. No one is watching me leave, no one is coming to say goodbye, and why should they? They don't care about me. The guards continue their patrols, the omegas are rushing to finish whatever task they started, life here is moving on like I never existed. Then again, according to people here, I shouldn't exist.

It shouldn't sting that no one is saying goodbye or watching me leave, but it does. Twenty-Three years of me living here, and no one is saying goodbye.

The sound of a deep rumbling engine draws my attention forward, and my eyes lock on the car that parks just by the steps. It's expensive and too out of place for here. It's polished and shines, and isn't what a rogue would usually have. So how does he?

Now I can't help but wonder where he is taking me. Xander doesn't have a pack, he doesn't have land, or a kingdom to rule over. So why does he have a car that screams wealth? Who exactly is this man that I've been sold to?

Xander walks toward the vehicle without a second thought or glance at anything. I know that whatever life I had here is over, there's no turning back. Clutching my bag tighter, I force my feet to move forward and follow him into the car.

His Questions

Serafine POV 

I'm confused, he's not driving, he has a driver. Rogues shouldn't have loyalty and people to work for them. It feels weird, and I wonder if he is even a rogue? Is this really Xander or did my father lie to me? The seats of the car are smooth and leather, they are softer than anything I've touched. I wasn't permitted to sit on the good furniture at home, only the wooden chairs. 

The scent in the car is Xander, all him. He doesn't acknowledge me or say anything. Even as the car begins to move he sits silent. Turning, I look outside of the car, focusing on the passing scenery. I feel like I don't exist and maybe that's a good thing? 

If I don't exist he won't hurt me, right? At least that's what I let my mind tell me. I know it's foolish and wrong. Still, it's strange that he hasn't once acknowledged me, not in the wedding ceremony or in the car. 

The silence continues to stretch, each second it feels thicker and heavier. I clutch my bag, I'm not sure why but maybe to help me stay grounded? I've no idea where I'm going, and I have no rights to ask either. Still, none of this makes sense.

He's a rogue, did my father not question why he has a car like this and a driver? How didn't he question Xander's role as a rogue? 

He doesn't have a pack, land, nothing, where does a rogue call home? Do they even have a space called home? 

Chancing it, I glance towards him. My eyes focus on the sharp line of his jaw, the way his muscles tick when he breathes out. I'm still focused on his face when his eyes flick towards me, but I quickly look away realising he saw me. 

Not asking questions, or speaking, I stay quiet and go back to watching the landscape pass by, knowing that the only place I ever knew as home is not behind me. 

The car continues to move smoothly along the road, the hum of the engine is the only sound. There's still tension in the air, or maybe that's just me? Maybe I'm anxious and that's what is making me feel like there's tension? 

I still keep a tight grip on my bag, like it can somehow save me from this.

The trees blur past us, and it feels like we're travelling for hours, which I guess we are as now the sky is darkening and the sun is dipping in the sky. I've no idea where we're going but it's far, I know that much.

"There are rules," Xander states and I freeze, shocked that he is speaking to me after hours of silence. I don't turn to face him, I simply take in his deep and commanding voice. It's the kind of voice that doesn't need to be raised to have an impact. 

"You won't run," he continues. "I don't care what you're used to, but if you try to run, I will make sure that you regret it."

I swallow hard, keeping my eyes on the glass.

“You will have your own room, with everything in it that you need,” he adds, and I blink, surprised by the statement. “I don’t share my bed.”

Exhaling slowly, I take that in. I should be grateful right, it should be a relief but it's not. I'm not sure why, but that doesn't feel like a saving grace.

“But when I want you, you will give in to me.” 

His words have my stomach flipping, I squeeze my fingers tighter around the fabric of my bag. I should have known that was coming, of course it was. That's what he wants. This isn't a real marriage, it's a transaction. My body is part of that transaction. Trying to push down the unease clawing at my throat, I try to remind myself that I've survived far worse, and that this, isn't something that I can control.

"You will do good to remember that I don't tolerate disobedience, and I expect complete honesty from you." His voice is still cold and emotional. It sounds like he's reciting a list of demands. "Tell me, have you found your mate?" 

The question throws me, it's nothing like the conversation. The fact is, I was meant to feel the bond when I turned eighteen and I didn't. It's another reason my pack are disgusted with me. "No, I have no mate."

He looks at me confused. "Have you had anyone? Have you been with anyone at all?" 

Hesitating, my fingers dig into my thigh. I can feel my face burning up, and I hate how embarrassed I feel right now. I know what he's asking, and I know he will hate the answer. "No I haven't," I reply. "I'm still a virgin."

He makes a sound low in his throat, almost like approval. Everything goes silent again. For a long moment he doesn't say anything to me. He doesn't react other than that original noise. I force myself to glance at him from the corner of my eye. When i do, he's watching me intently and it sends a cold shover through me. His golden eyes flick up to my face and there's something unreadable in his expression.

Then he shifts, taking a breath like I hadn't said that and begins to conversation again. "How old are you?" 

Hesitating I don't answer, I thought he would have known that? "I'm twenty-three."

His eyes flicker, and I see he's thinking something. Maybe wondering how I still don't have a mate? Either way he doesn't say anything else. He simply looks outside and keeps his expression blank.

I feel like my answers mattered to him, but I don't know why, I'm not sure what sort of woman he thought he was paying for. If it was an experienced one, he's in for a shock as I have no experience at all. None. 

Not A Rogue Home

Serafine POV

The car is quiet again, and I can't help but wonder how far away we are from where ever we're going. It's been hours and we're still moving. 

"I need to ask." His tone is calm and I look at him. "How have you handled the times when your wolf was in heat?" 

Oh, I stare at him. My mouth opens then closes. I was warned not to speak of this. If I tell him, then I'm in trouble, and how do I know this isn't a test? Him seeing if I can be loyal and follow orders?

"Your answer is required, any hesitation will not be accepted." 

Nodding, I swallow. "I was given drugs since I turned eighteen to hold back that part of my wolf." 

His head snaps to me and I flinch feeling like I'm in trouble. "Why..." He stops and I know he's not asking me that, he's still processing what I've told him. "Mating ceremonies, the yearly Calling festival, how did you handle those without that instinct?" 

"I wasn't invited to those," I explain and he stares at me even more shocked. 

"A wolf can only stay strong if their urges are not bound and are honored. These tablets do you have them with you?" he asks.

I've got no idea, I open my bag and look, finding them, I pull them free and he plucks them from my hands instantly. I stare at him in shock as he opens the window and slings them out instantly without a second thought. 

"You will not take them, under any circumstances and if I find out you have, there will be punishments, do you understand?" 

His voice is vicious now, and all I can do is nod. This isn't like it was my choice, I didn't decide to take them, they were forced on me. If I could stop taking them, I would have instantly. He says nothing else and I watch as we stop outside a gate.

The gates open without hesitation, it's as if they were expecting him, and it makes my stomach knot. This is wrong, rogues don't have permanent homes, they don't have security like this, that screams they are important. Xander Voss shouldn't have a place like this, it looks like a fortress, not the usual rogue hideouts that were discribed to me when I was growing up.

The fcar moves slowly and smoothly through the grounds, and I finally get my first look at where he lives. The road winds through a thick forest, the trees are tall and dense. They create a perfect barrier that keeps everything hidden from the world outside. 

The further in we drive, the more uneasy I become. It's far too quiet. The trees finally break and reveal a massive stone estate. This is nothing like what I was expecting. It's dark in an almost imposing way but also strong. It's built like a castle, with it's high walls, towers and even arched windows. The light glows dimly from inside. 

I can't see a rogue, I can't see anything that resembles rogues outside of Xander, but something tells me that this isn't the real him. The way he's dressed, it's a lie, a cover up and fake.

There's no disorder, chaos or desperation around at all, it's civilized and calm. This isn't a one man's home. This is a home of an alpha, with a large pack.

The car finally stops in a circular driveway, before I can process what is in front of me, the front doors swing open and several men step out. All are dressed in black, their movements are disciplined and calculated. Again, they aren't rogues. 

Swallowing hard I don't move, and Xander steps out of the car. His coat shifts around his legs as he moves. I sit here, still gripping my bag unsure of how to feel about all this. 

"Get out," Xander commands, his voice leaves no room for argument. 

Moving quickly, I step out onto the stone, and the men near the entrance say nothing at all. Their eyes track my every movement, their expressions staying unreadable. 

Xander walks past me without another glance. He heads up the stone steps, and I know that he expects me to follow without giving me the order, so I do. When I step inside of the estate, it's just as intimidating as the outside, the walls are stone. It has high ceilings, and large chaneliers. Everything is tinted in gold from the light of the chandeliers. It's old, but powerful and I feel the energy in it, that makes my skin prickle.

I expect him to stop but he doesn't, he keeps walking. His movements are purposeful, and his presence commands attention, like he owns the place. Not just the place, but everything and everyone inside of it as well. 

“This is where you’ll live now,” he says as he leads me through the halls. “You will obey my rules. You will not leave unless I allow it.”

That's a given, he's already told me that. I watch as he stops by a door and pushes it open. He steps aside to give me space to enter. "This is your bedroom and bathroom."

Stepping forward, I hesitate at the threshold before I look inside at the room.

This is not what I was expecting, the space is big, and the bed is big enough for multiple people. There's a fireplace that is burning low in the corner, a set of doors which I'm assuming is to the bathroom. 

This is luxurious, and I wonder if he knows that I never had this? That my father was expecting me to sleep in a cell. 

"This may not be a cage," Xander says while watching me closely. "But don't mistake comfort for freedom," he warns.

Turning I face him. "What exactly do you expect from me?" I ask, needing to know why he bought me. 

His eyes gleam under the dim light. "I said, loyalty, obedience and when I come to this door you let me in. Do you understand those rules?" 

My throat tightens, and I nod. He's made it clear, and I can't pretend like I don't know.

For a moment he watches me before stepping back. His presence still lingers in the space though. "You will meet the others in the morning, right now, you need to rest." 

Without another word he turns and walks away, leaving me alone. I stand in the doorway of a life that I never chose. I want to say because of this bedroom, and the bathroom that I'm going to find a real home here, but I know deep down that isn't real.

Unexpected.

Serafine POV

Standing here, my fingers are still gripping the bag, I'm not sure if I should touch anything. Yes he said it was my room but I don't feel like I should. It's like I will owe him if I do, then again if I eat anything, I owe him. I'm not even sure how to feel about this. 

He's not a rogue, he's an alpha and I want to ask why he lied, why he pretends to be a rogue when visiting other packs. What does he gain from lying? Surely he can get better deals if people know who he truly is? 

Is his name even Xander? I didn't think of that, if he's lied about been a rogue, then that could also be a lie. I thought I was marrying a man I didn't know, but now, I realise how real that is. I don't even know his real name.

Okay, I can't stand here all night, even if I feel anxious. I'm not used to this. I was either sitting in my room, or following orders to clean, cook and such. I'm not used to free time. So what am I supposed to do? 

It's crazy that I don't know how to exist in a space like this. For my entire life I was confined to a small bare room, with nothing but a mattress. My daily freedom was whatever time I could salvage between the endless list of chores. 

The door is my biggest issue. I'm not used to privacy, I'm waiting for the guard to open it and stand watching me. I had a closet as my room before, now I have an entire room, and a bed that's far too big for me, but looks comfy. 

Still, this place is unsettling. Slowly, I force my feet to move, deciding that I can't avoid this forever. My gaze drifts over the furniture, dark wood, a soft rug beneath my bare feet. The bed and covers look inviting, but I'm scared to touch them.

Turning, I head to the other doors, hesitating for a moment, I suck in a breath before pulling down the handle and opening them. As I swing them open, I'm amazed and shocked at the same time.

The bathroom is extravagant, but even that word feels too basic. Everything is gleaming from the marble floors to the silver fixtures. The tub alone is enormous, far bigger than the ones back at my families pack that I would clean. There's a vanity that stretches alone the entire side of one wall. My eyes stop on the towels that are already on there, folded neatly. 

My eyes go to the bottles, shampoo, body wash, everything. Those are things I was never allowed. My fingers brush over the towels, they are thick but soft. Nothing like the scraps of fabric I had back at home. My stomach twists at the thought of my fathers pack. 

This place is nothing like it.

Turning to the tub, I stare at it for a long moment. I never were allowed baths, the first one I had was this morning before the wedding. While that was amazing, I want to get in and just relax, everyone talks about it. They say how nice it is to just soak, and relax. I wouldn't know. 

Reaching for the knobs, I turn them. The water rushes out instantly, and the longer it's on the more the steam grows and hides the room. Stripping out of my dress, I let it pool to the floor before I carefully step into the tub. The hot water touches my skin and I gasp, not because it burns just because of how amazing it feels. 

It's heaven, the warmth seeps into my sore muscles, and soothes the bruises along my ribs. I soak it up, letting the water wash away the sweat that clings to me from hours in the car. Closing my eyes, I let myself sink lower, keeping my head resting against the edge of the tub.

For the first time, ever, in my life there's no one watching me. There's no one waiting to punish me for non-existent reasons. It's nice, my body and mind relaxes in a way I never thought to be possible.

I'm not entirely sure how long I stay in the water, but eventually I become exhausted and I can't stay in the bath. I don't want to get out, but I can feel my limbs becoming tired, and I would rather not fall asleep in the tub. Forcing myself to stand, I grab a thick towel and wrap it around me lightly. Quickly drying myself, I empty the tub and then walk into the bedroom.

The fire is still crackling softly. I grab the bag I came with, trying to see if there's anything suitable to wear to bed in it. There isn't, so I opt for a summer dress as a nighty, hell there's no underwear. I'm not sure how I'm meant to cope without that. 

Approaching the bed I hesitate, it feels too big, like the moment I climb onto it, I will be swallowed whole by the blankets on it. Reaching out, my fingers drag along the thick blankets. The fabric is soft beneath my fingers, and I don't know what to do with comfort. 

I move, and climb onto the bed, and the moment I lie back, I sink into the warmth and comfort. If you never had something, you don't miss it. That's what I told myself, I can't miss the luxuries, because I never had them. Well, now I have, and I know I hate the fact I never got to have these before.

All those time cleaning other peoples beds and rooms, I could have snuck into one, even for a moment to feel the comfort of it. I didn't though, instead I followed the orders. Despite the unknown, the uneasy and the mess surrounding me, sleep comes quickly.