Mr. Ragnar's hand finally left his belt. For a split second, I thought he might stop. Maybe something human would flicker in his eyes. Instead, the leather cracked through the air and landed squarely on my cheek.
Pain flared. I let out a silent scream and collapsed, hands flying up as I hit the floor again. Warm tears poured from my eyes, instantly stinging the welt forming on my cheek. The strike had undone the bun in my hair, red strands tumbling around my face like a messy curtain. When I pulled my trembling fingers away and gasped for breath, the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
Slowly, I lifted my eyes back to Mr. Ragnar. He had turned away. He couldn't even bear to meet my gaze. That hurt more than the belt ever had.
I was still sobbing when Mrs. Ragnar stepped forward. Her heels clicked calmly on the floor, as if nothing unusual had happened. Then she laughed, a loud, mocking sound that echoed around us. She regarded me with a cruel smile.
"Serves you right," she said, wiping away imaginary tears. "Are you completely insane? Every family who came to the orphanage rejected you, every single one. They said you were cursed or sick, yet we still took you in. And you have the nerve to act so ungrateful."
She raised a hand, pinching her thumb and forefinger together as she pointed at me like I was some small insect. "Everywhere you go, you're rejected," she spat. "When you were eighteen, even your own mate walked away because you have no scent. And now look at you, acting like you're so important after stealing from us. Just because you're pretty, you think you're special. But you're nothing but a worthless maid." Her eyes swept over me with pure disgust.
"If only we had known, we would have left you in that orphanage," Mrs. Ragnar said, shaking her head. "What good are you? You haven't done a thing around here. You have no inner voice, not human, not wolf, nothing at all. You're a disgrace to our kind."
Each word hit me harder than the belt had. Mrs. Ragnar turned her back and walked to her husband, clearly done with me. "Throw her out," she said calmly. "And get back the money she stole. I'm tired of her. A few chores and she already thinks she owns this house."
'Little chores,' I thought bitterly. The phrase echoed in my head as I stared at the floor, biting back a sob. Mr. Ragnar merely nodded, as if his wife had just given a routine order at work.
I swallowed hard, my chest aching. "You've always wanted to do this," I whispered, voice cracking. "Go ahead then. Throw me out. I don't blame you anymore. I only blame myself. Maybe I really am cursed."
Then the tears came again, blurring everything around me. Only minutes ago, life had been its familiar routine: wake up, clean, serve, endure. Now I was being discarded like garbage.
My heart sank. Mr. Ragnar suddenly called, "Max." My brother stepped into the hallway from the shadows of the living room.
"Beat her," Mr. Ragnar ordered harshly. "The first beating wasn't enough. She's still being disrespectful. Give her another lesson, then throw her and her things out once you've recovered the money she stole."
His voice hardened further. "I can't believe I ever doubted Jane. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but today you showed your true self."
Something inside me shattered. They really didn't care. I had never been their daughter—just a tool to use and discard. Maybe I really was cursed. Why else would no one ever love me, and why would my life end like this?
I cried silently as Max, my brother, stepped forward. He hesitated at first, doubt flickering in his eyes. For a moment he didn't want to do this. But when our father shot him a hard glance, his expression changed. It turned cold.
Max swung his foot, and before I could react, he stomped on me. I curled into a ball instantly, hands flying up to protect my face. My face was all I had left. It was the only part of me that had ever earned a second glance from anyone.
Pain tore through my ribs and shoulders. When he finished, Max grabbed my arm roughly. He snatched my phone and drained the money from my account without a word. Then he dragged me toward the front door.
He hauled me out onto the driveway and let me crash onto the cold pavement. No sooner had I hit the ground than the sky opened up and rain soaked me instantly. Max flung five hundred dollars at my feet like scraps thrown to a beggar.
"If we ever see you on this compound again, or anywhere near our family, we will file a report," Mr. Ragnar's voice boomed from inside. "Consider yourself lucky we didn't send you to the police for theft."
The heavy oak door slammed shut behind me. The lock clicked into place. I was completely alone.
Rain poured down, washing over my bruised face and drenched uniform, pounding against my broken heart. Over the years, they had accused me of stealing and countless other things I never did. I knew I should have left long ago, but where could I have gone?
I had nowhere left to go. The orphanage was miles away, and even if I somehow made it there, they wouldn't take me in as a grown woman. Truly, I was utterly alone.
I hugged myself tightly, shivering in the pouring rain. "Maybe this was how it was always meant to be," I whispered. Maybe I had always been destined to leave.
I forced myself up onto my feet and began moving, dragging my small bag behind me. As I walked toward the garage, I caught my reflection in the side mirror of a car. My blue eyes were red and swollen, and wet strands of my hair clung to my cheeks. My amulet pendant was still hidden beneath my clothes, pressed against my chest like the only secret I had left.
I was still wearing the black-and-white uniform Mrs. Ragnar had made me wear at work. I tried to force a smile at my reflection, but instead more tears fell. My lip was split and bruised, my cheek burning, and my whole body ached where Max had kicked me. I had protected my face for this reason. I couldn't afford doctor bills or scars.
I stepped out into the rain and began walking down the long driveway. I had no friends. No home. Nowhere to go. Then I remembered the little motel down the street. It was cheap and a bit questionable, but it would be shelter, at least for one night. The five hundred dollars would have to last me a few days if I was careful with food.
As I walked along the road, rain soaked through my clothes until they felt like lead. Suddenly, a black car sped toward me, far too fast for the weather. Panic shot through me and I scrambled onto the grassy shoulder, almost slipping. The car tore past anyway, splashing a massive wave of dirty gutter water all over me. I stood there drenched, shaking, staring at its disappearing taillights.