Chapter 7: Velvet Chains

###Sincerely

I pushed myself up slowly, the silk sheets sliding against my skin like a secret whispered by someone who actually wanted me there. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a jagged mountain range painted in bruised twilight purples and deep golds. Dark mahogany furniture gleamed with mirror-like polish, and a roaring fireplace crackled in the corner, pushing back the mountain chill with possessive warmth.

My throat tightened.

“This… can’t be real,” I whispered, voice cracking.

Even Roland’s gilded prison looked like a modest cabin compared to this. Who the hell had enough power and money to build something that made an Alpha’s mansion feel small?

Before my spiraling thoughts could drag me under, a soft knock broke the silence.

Two women slipped inside, arms full of folded clothes that looked softer and finer than anything I’d ever touched. The second they saw me awake, their faces lit up with warm, genuine smiles.

Not smirks. Not pity. Not disgust.

Actual smiles.

“Oh! You’re awake,” the older woman exclaimed, her voice kind.

“How are you feeling, miss?” the younger one asked, concern softening her eyes.

I blinked hard, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It didn’t.

“I-I’m… alright,” I managed, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

The older maid set the clothes on a nearby chair with careful reverence. “That’s wonderful. His Alpha was quite worried about you.”

His Alpha?

Roland?

The title sent a strange flutter through my chest—equal parts curiosity and dread.

Before I could ask, the younger maid stepped closer. “The bath has been prepared for you.”

“A… bath?”

She smiled again, patient. “If you’ll follow us.”

I hesitated, then slipped out of the massive bed. The mattress dipped under my weight, and out of pure habit I reached down to smooth the sheets, terrified of leaving wrinkles.

The older maid frowned gently. “Oh, please don’t.”

I froze, stomach twisting. “I’m sorry. I thought—”

“You don’t have to apologize, dear. The maids will handle it.”

I stared at her. The words didn’t compute. Don’t apologize? In my world, breathing wrong alone was an offense.

The bathroom stole what was left of my sanity.

Marble everywhere. The tub was bigger than my entire storage closet back home. Steam curled lazily through the air, heavy with lavender, vanilla, and sandalwood—luxurious, calming, dangerously comforting.

“This way,” the younger maid said softly.

I obeyed on autopilot. When she reached for the ribbon of my nightgown, I flinched hard, old instincts screaming.

She paused immediately. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

Comfortable was another word that felt like a trap.

“I should probably warn you…” I blurted.

The younger maid tilted her head. “Warn us?”

“I’m… rather large.” The old shame burned my cheeks. “Most people don’t like looking at me. I’ve been told my whole life I’m unpleasant to look at, so you don't have to...” I trailed off.

The room went quiet.

“I'm just saying” I said in an attempt to ease the awkwardness.

After a shaky nod, they helped me out of the gown with careful, respectful hands. No comments. No stares. No cruel jabs about my soft stomach, wide hips, or heavy thighs.

I sank into the hot water and a broken sound escaped me—half sigh, half moan. The heat wrapped around every bruise, every aching muscle, every place Roland’s rejection had left raw.

“Oh… Goddess,” I breathed, sinking deeper until the water kissed my collarbones. “This feels illegally good.”

A soft, amused chuckle came from both women.

“We’re glad you like it,” the older maid said.

For long, luxurious minutes they let me soak in silence. I kept waiting for the insult, the sneer, the moment they’d tell me I didn’t deserve this but it never came.

The older woman’s expression softened with something dangerously close to pity. “My dear… you must have been treated very cruelly.”

Something cracked inside my chest. I looked away, blinking back sudden heat in my eyes.

“Where are you from?” she asked gently.

“Mooncrest Pack.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The maids exchanged a loaded glance.

“Mooncrest?” the younger one repeated carefully.

I nodded.

“You came from Alpha Roland’s territory?”

Another nod.

For a moment, I was confused. Wasn’t this Mooncrest? Had I been enjoying the luxury so much that I’d forgotten where I was?

The older maid sighed, choosing her words like they were knives. “If you wish to stay peacefully here… it would be best not to mention Mooncrest. Or Alpha Roland.”

A chill slithered down my spine despite the steaming water. “Why?”

The younger maid looked surprised. “You really don’t know where you are?”

“Aren't we in Mooncrest?”

She hesitated, then delivered the blow softly.

“You’re in Blackstone Pack.”