"Look at you," Mistress Shadowmere sneers, circling me like a vulture eyeing its prey. "Did you actually think you could attend the ball? That anyone would want a filthy little servant like you?”
Today should have been my chance—my one shot at finding a mate, at escaping this life of servitude. Instead, I'll spend my eighteenth birthday on my knees, scrubbing floors while other girls my age dance with destiny.
“Eighteen today and still as worthless as the day I took you in." Her lips curl into a cruel smile. "Happy birthday, little mongrel. Consider another night of scrubbing floors my gift to you."
The doors burst open again, and I flinch, expecting another torrent of abuse from Ravena. Instead, heavy footsteps echo across the marble—the unmistakable stride of Marcus Shadowmere, Shadow Ridge's wealthiest businessman and my mistress's husband.
"Now, now, Ravena," his deep voice rumbles through the chamber. "Is that any way to treat our most... dedicated servant?"
I keep my eyes fixed on the floor, but I can feel his gaze raking over me, lingering where my wet dress clings to my body. My skin crawls as he moves closer, his expensive boots entering my field of vision.
"Look at me, girl," he commands softly.
Against my better judgment, I lift my eyes. Marcus Shadowmere towers over me, his silver-streaked hair and tailored suit a testament to his wealth and power. But it's the hunger in his dark eyes that makes my stomach turn—the same look he's been giving me since I turned seventeen.