Breaking the Curse of the Lycan Prince

"I will break you until you plead for death, you evil murderer! I despise the air you breathe. Your shadow, even the ground you tread upon! I detest that I can't strangle you to death with my bare hands just because you have royal blood. Kill yourself so I won't ever have to see you again!" He bellowed, his heavy foot stomping forward, his voice laden with sorrow, fury, and sheer loathing. Fortunately, Gemma intervened, grasping him firmly.

"Don't exert yourself by striking her. The previous sorcerers I brought along have already neutralized all her demonic powers. Another one might come today to assess her condition," Gemma whispered, casting a reassuring smile at my father.

Dread clutched at my heart upon hearing her words. I couldn't endure any more torment from her sorcerers, who appeared to do nothing more than feigning the exorcism of demons from within me.

"Get up there! Start your household chores, you wretched creature! My daughter shouldn't be delayed for school because of you!" My father sneered at me, his gaze filled with disgust, and it cut deep, especially since he no longer regarded me as his daughter.

He had just referred to the Beta's daughter as his own.

They both walked away, his arm encircling her waist as she leaned on his shoulder. Halfway, she glanced back and flashed a mocking smirk in my direction, churning my stomach as I struggled to hold back tears.

...

"Mum, Dad, I'll be late for school today because of that useless girl, Hattie. I don't know why..." I heard Betty, the Beta's daughter, complain, but she halted her words upon noticing my entrance into the dining room.

The three of them were seated around the table, and the scene triggered a rush of memories. It reminded me of the times when I would sit with my mother and the father who had once been loving.

Things had changed so abruptly. Now, I was the servant who served them, replacing the place I once occupied at the table. The Beta's daughter had taken my spot.

"Here are your meals..." I muttered with a slight bow as I began distributing their plates, silently praying for the peace and quiet to persist until I could leave.

They should spare me from any beatings now. I sent a silent prayer to the moon goddess, and it felt as if she answered when I had served the plates and turned to depart.

"Hattie!" My father's voice, cold and menacing, called out my name, causing me to freeze in place, on the verge of tears. I wished I could just ignore him and walk away. I detested standing in front of Betty, bearing all the humiliations and beatings.

With hesitant steps, I turned and approached them.

"Come and eat this food first. I don't trust you anymore," he ordered, my cheeks reddening as I sniffled away my tears.

I had forgotten that it had always been like this. They perpetually suspected me, while the true culprit – Gemma – sat right next to them. Even though my father had assigned bodyguards to closely monitor me while I cooked, he still found it necessary to humiliate me and break my spirit.

I took a spoonful of my father's food, then some from Betty, and as I reached Gemma, she shot me an icy glare that made my hands tremble.

Shivering uncontrollably, I dipped the spoon into her plate, taking out a spoonful as well. But the instant I moved to put it in my mouth, she slapped the back of my hand with her palm, causing the stew-laden spoon to splatter on my face and into my eyes.

"My eyes!!!" I screamed in agony at the fiery pain, which stung so intensely that I lost my balance and collapsed onto the floor.

My eyes clenched shut as I groped in pain and screamed for help, desperately pleading for water to rinse my face. Instead of assistance, I heard laughter echoing around me.

"Can you believe she's trying to fill her belly with my food?" Gemma chuckled, and they all laughed heartily while I felt as if my eyes were being gouged out, tears flowing uncontrollably.

"I'm going blind! Please, someone get me some water!" I cried out, trembling violently, my hand trying to wipe away the pain, but no one paid any attention. All I could hear was the clinking of cutlery and plates, indicating they were happily eating, utterly indifferent to my agony.