Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle-Chapter 8: HOW DARE YOU?!

The kitchen wasn't located in the servant compound hence Sorayah had to walk out of the compound. She navigated through dark corridors, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold stone floor. She had no idea where she was going, but instinct told her the kitchen for the maids wouldn't be far from their quarters afterall. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, twisting it painfully. She needed food and more importantly, she needed a weapon.

As she turned a corner, a faint light flickered in the distance. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickening her pace, she followed the glow, her breath shallow with anticipation.

When she reached the door, she pushed it open carefully, her fingers trembling against the worn wooden frame. A warm glow from a small fire pit bathed the room in a golden hue. It was a tiny, poorly constructed space, proof that it was meant for the lowest-ranking maids, those given the most degrading tasks, like scrubbing chamber pots.

Sorayah's gaze locked onto the pot of stew simmering over the fire. The rich aroma made her mouth water, and she wasted no time grabbing a wooden ladle to dish out two plates. As she was about to leave, she hesitated. The real reason she had come here resurfaced in her mind, making her heart race.

Her eyes darted around the kitchen until she spotted what she was looking for, a knife.

Without hesitation, she snatched it from the worn wooden counter, its dull metal gleaming in the firelight. Quickly, she hid it beneath her dress, securing it against her thigh. The sharp edge bit into her skin slightly, but she ignored the sting. She would need this.

The Alpha Emperor's wedding took place this morning, she reminded herself. I didn't have the chance to attend, but there will be plenty of occasions in the future. I just have to find a way into the palace.

With that thought steeling her resolve, she turned to leave but before she could take a single step, footsteps could be heard approaching the kitchen.

Sorayah's stomach dropped. Shit!

Without thinking, she darted beneath the kitchen table, curling herself into a tight ball. She held her breath as the door creaked open, and two figures stepped inside.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. I'm screwed! I'm really screwed!

Though she was only human and not a werewolf, she knew the consequences of stealing from one's masters. And given how cruel werewolves were rumored to be, she didn't want to imagine what kind of punishment she'd face if she got caught.

She needed an escape plan. Fast.

But before she could think of one, a sound froze her in place.

A moan.

Loud. Unmistakable.

Followed by the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh.

What the hell? Sorayah's brows furrowed as she dared to peek through the small gap between the tablecloth and the floor.

Her eyes widened.

A man had a woman bent over the wooden counter, her bare breasts spilling forward as he gripped her hips, thrusting into her with unrestrained force. His large hands roamed her body, squeezing and stroking, while the woman's moans filled the kitchen.

Sorayah's stomach twisted not from arousal, but from sheer disbelief.

Are you kidding me?

Of all places, why here? Couldn't they take this to their rooms?

She rolled her eyes and pressed herself further against the table's wooden leg, trying to ignore the heated gasps and wet sounds filling the air. The scent of sex thickened, clinging to the warm kitchen like an invisible fog.

She exhaled slowly, keeping her breath silent. I guess I have no choice but to wait until they're done.

Resigned to her unfortunate predicament, she rested her forehead against her knees, praying to whatever gods were listening that they'd finish quickly.

This night just kept getting worse.

"Oh fuck it."

As Sorayah waited for the couple to finish, she couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between them. The woman was draped in fine silk, her attire elegant and undoubtedly expensive, while the man wore a simple purple uniform, clearly a servant. They came from different worlds, yet here they were, tangled in a passionate embrace.

Her curiosity deepened. What brought them together?

The woman's moans grew louder, making Sorayah's cheeks burn with embarrassment. She had never witnessed something this intimate before, and it made her feel like an intruder in a moment not meant for her eyes.

I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be watching this.

Just as she was about to turn away, the couple's movements slowed. The woman let out a final, breathy sigh, her body relaxing against the man as he released a groan of satisfaction. Sorayah held her breath, praying they would leave quickly.

She watched as the man helped the woman adjust her clothing, his touch lingering with a tenderness that caught her off guard. Then, to her surprise, he leaned in and kissed her, slow, deliberate, full of something deeper than mere lust.

Sorayah's eyes widened.

So, it's not just about pleasure... There's something real between them.

The realization unsettled her. She had expected an affair driven purely by desire, but the affection in that kiss hinted at something far more dangerous love. Love between a noblewoman and a lowly servant.

But before she could dwell on it, disaster struck.

The knife she had hidden against her thigh slipped from beneath her skirt, clattering loudly onto the stone floor.

The couple froze.

"Who's there?" the man barked, his voice sharp with both fear and anger.

Sorayah's blood ran cold. Shit.

In a flash, she grabbed the knife and sprang to her feet, but it was too late.

"Get the hell out here!" the woman commanded, her voice laced with authority. "Obey, and perhaps I'll consider sparing your life."

Sorayah knew better than to believe that.

Even if she wasn't sure of the woman's exact rank, one thing was certain, being caught in such a compromising position with a servant was disgraceful for someone of noble blood. And if Sorayah had witnessed it? That made her a liability. A secret to be buried.

"I won't ask again," the woman warned, her voice deadly calm.

Sorayah's heart pounded. Her gaze darted around the dimly lit chamber, searching for an escape route. Then she saw it, an open window.

Without hesitation, she bolted.

"Catch her and kill her!" the woman screamed. "She must not get away!"

The man obeyed instantly, lunging after Sorayah with inhuman speed.

But Sorayah had an advantage. Though she wasn't a werewolf, she possessed gifts, gifts that allowed her to match their speed and strength. Her feet barely touched the ground as she sprinted down the corridors, her body moving with the grace of a predator.

I just need to lose him.

She weaved through the labyrinthine halls, twisting and turning. But just as she rounded a corner, she slammed into something solid.

Pain exploded through her as she tumbled to the ground, her face striking the cold stone. The plates she had stolen clattered, food spilling everywhere.

A cold, menacing voice growled above her.

"How dare you, a lowly maid!"

Dread coiled in Sorayah's stomach. She recognized that voice.

I'm really screwed.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze and met the piercing, furious eyes of Madam Melisa. Behind the woman, Lily struggled in the grasp of two other maids, her small frame trembling.

The maids had not been asleep after all. They had only pretended, waiting for the perfect moment to trap her.

Sorayah shot to her feet, anger flashing in her eyes. "Let go of my sister this minute!" she barked.

Madam Melisa smirked, folding her arms. "Oh, you should worry about what's about to befall you instead."

Two maids stepped forward and grabbed Sorayah's arms, yanking her roughly.

Madam Melisa turned on her heels, and the maids dragged both Sorayah and Lily through the halls, their struggling bodies powerless against the firm grip of their captors.

By the time they reached the servant quarters, the entire household had gathered, eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation. Two low tables lay in the center of the courtyard, and beside them stood four burly men, thick wooden rods in their hands.

Sorayah and Lily didn't need to be told what was about to happen.

Punishment for stealing.

Sorayah barely had time to brace herself before she was shoved forward, her knees slamming against the rough ground. Lily landed beside her with a whimper, clutching her scraped palms.

Madam Melisa's voice rang out like a death sentence.

"Punishment for theft is fifty strokes of the cane. Then, both hands will be cut off."

A fresh wave of terror crashed over Lily. "N...No, please! We didn't steal anything!" she pleaded, her voice raw with desperation.

Two more men stepped forward, grabbing Sorayah and Lily, binding them to the tables. Their skirts were yanked up, leaving their backsides exposed to the cruel night air.

Sorayah thrashed violently. "You're insane!" she spat, her voice shaking with fury. "I didn't steal anything! We weren't given food all day, we were starving!"

Madam Melisa chuckled, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Then consider this a lesson in endurance."

She raised her hand.

"Begin!"

The first strike came like a lightning bolt of agony.

Sorayah's body jerked as the cane sliced across her flesh, the force of it rattling through her bones. A white-hot pain exploded in her nerves, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out.

Lily, however, let out a sharp scream, her body convulsing as the cane lashed her delicate skin. "Please...please, stop! She can't handle this!"

Sorayah turned her head, her heart breaking at the sight of her sworn sister tear-streaked face. "Lily... don't beg them." Her voice wavered, but her resolve did not.

CRACK!

Another lash.

Then another.

With every stroke, the pain grew unbearable. The skin on her backside began to split, warm blood seeping through the fabric of her skirt. The scent of iron filled the air, mixing with the sound of Lily's sobs and the sickening rhythm of the cane.

Lily's body trembled violently. "Let me take her strokes! She can't endure this!" she cried.

Madam Melisa let out a cruel laugh. "Fifty strokes is enough to leave one paralyzed. Taking more than that? That means death."

She waved a hand.

"Continue."

The men obeyed, their strikes merciless.

Sorayah's vision blurred, her body screaming in agony. Her muscles locked up, her breathing became ragged. Her mind wavered between consciousness and the pull of darkness.

Her body refused to give in.

She would not scream.

She would not beg.

But just as she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness....

"HOW DARE YOU?!"

A voice, powerful and laced with fury, cut through the night.

Sorayah's hazy mind recognized it immediately.

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Through the pain, she forced her swollen eyes open just in time to see a towering figure step into the courtyard.

His presence alone sent a ripple of fear through the gathered servants.

"Release them. Now."