Chapter 3

She shrieked in pain as the thick soup ruined her expensive gown.

"Emma! Why would you do this?!"

Her eyes welled with tears, her voice quivering with performative heartbreak.

Liam bolted up, his face dark with fury. "Emma!"

"It wasn't me—"

Before I could finish, Olivia slapped me hard across the face.

The blow sent my head spinning, my ears ringing violently.

Then, a searing, corrosive burn tore through my cheek—this wasn't just a slap. It felt like acid chewing into my flesh.

I touched my face and felt raw, scorched skin spreading rapidly under my fingertips.

Olivia pulled her hand back, leaving a faint trace of silver dust between her nails.

Silver dust.

She wanted to permanently disfigure me.

A werewolf’s healing ability was useless against silver. This scar would remain on my face forever.

"Emma!"

Liam's furious roar boomed over my head. "You are an utter disappointment!"

He pointed at the floor. "Kneel!"

"What?"

"I said kneel! Kneel until Olivia forgives you!"

Other customers in the boutique stopped to watch the spectacle, their whispers buzzing in my ears.

"What is going on over there?"

"That poor girl..."

I stood there, drenched in rainwater, my face burning with agony, exposed to everyone's mocking gazes.

If this were my past life, the humiliation would have destroyed me.

Now, all I felt was exhaustion.

Bone-deep, hollow exhaustion.

Slowly, I sank to my knees.

The freezing marble pressed against my kneecaps, its chill seeping deep into my joints.

"Liam..." Olivia murmured softly. "Forget it. I'm sure Emma didn't mean it."

"No," Liam replied coldly. "She needs to learn her lesson."

I knelt there, staring blankly at the scattered container on the floor.

The rain poured outside.

Just like that rainy night years ago, when I was injured and Liam sat by my bedside until dawn.

Back then, he would check my wounds with genuine worry, read me stories to soothe me to sleep, and gently pat my back when nightmares woke me.

"Don't be afraid, Emma. I'm right here."

"I'll always protect you, Emma."

Back then, Liam's eyes held only tenderness and adoration for me.

Now, even a single glance in my direction was filled with pure disgust.

The storm raged on as I knelt on the icy floor.

The prolonged humiliation and physical exhaustion finally caught up with me. My vision spun, and darkness took over.

I spent three days in the Pack Healer's clinic.

The silver dust had seeped into the open wound. It took the Healer three agonizing days just to purge the poison. Even so, a faint scar remained on my cheek.

Liam never came. Not a single text, not a single call.

I closed my eyes.

I had stopped hoping long ago, yet my chest still twitched with a dull ache.

Today was Liam's mate ceremony.

Dragging my weakened body, I walked back into the packhouse.

Liam looked surprised when he saw me.

"You should still be recovering at the clinic."

"I didn't want to miss your wedding," I replied evenly.

Olivia glided down the stairs. Seeing me, a flash of triumph crossed her face.

"Emma, aren't you fully recovered yet? You look awful."

"I'm fine," I said without emotion.

"Glad to hear it."

She stepped right up to me, dropping her voice to a harsh whisper.

"Liam said you should help serve the guests today. Putting on a maid's uniform will make it much easier for you."

She pointed toward a cheap black uniform lying on the sofa.

Staring at that ill-fitting maid outfit, I suddenly smiled.

They didn't even want to leave me a shred of dignity.

"Alright."

I picked up the dress and changed right in front of them.

Liam stared at me, a flicker of guilt and relief crossing his eyes.

But he quickly looked away.