Chapter 6 YOU'RE LATE

AMANDA'S POV:

Donovan didn't give me a chance to deny. He simply got into his SUV and drove away.

I walked into our tiny apartment, forcing myself to stay calm, to pretend everything was fine. Thankfully, the main room was empty. No one had to see me like this.

I slipped into the bathroom, changed quickly, and layered concealer over the bruises on my neck. The skin still throbbed, raw and angry. But what hurt more was knowing who had put them there. Donovan. My Donovan.

He used to drive me home from school every day. He used to buy cafeteria fries just to arrange them on the table in the shape of my face, making me laugh until my stomach hurt. Now that same person spat venom at me, grabbed me by the throat like I was dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to fall apart and cry until there was nothing left. But I didn't. Because what would be the point?

When I finally walked back into the living room, Mom was sitting at the table. She looked tired, but the moment she saw me, she smiled-that same soft, warm smile she'd always had.

"Hey, sweetheart," she said gently. "Rough day?"

I shook my head and forced a smile. "Not really. Though the math test was harder than I expected."

I couldn't tell her the truth. Not with her illness. Not when she was already suffering. The last thing I wanted was for the Pack to use her sickness as another excuse to hurt us.

"Then my baby needs a good meal." Mom turned and headed to the kitchen. I peered in and saw her standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. The smell of peppers and onions filled the small space.

"Mom, let me help," I said, stepping toward her.

She shook her head quickly. "No. Not today. The Pack doctor came by earlier. He gave me medicine. I'm feeling much better now." She nodded toward Max's room. "If you want to help, check your brother's homework. He's been complaining about a math problem he can't solve."

I let out a long breath-and only then realized I'd been holding it. The Pack doctor had come. Alpha was still letting her be treated. That meant we hadn't been completely abandoned. That meant there was still hope.

"Okay," I said quietly, and walked toward Max's room, grateful I wouldn't have to lie anymore tonight.

***

I arrived earlier than ever the next morning. Donovan had ordered me to report to the Pack House for "cleaning duties." His voice had been cold. Threatening. He didn't even bother hiding that this was punishment. He called it "atonement" for my father's so-called betrayal.

Father.

I still couldn't believe Alpha's story about him fleeing to join the rogues. Not for a single second. But I had no proof otherwise.

I walked the entire way to the Pack House. My legs ached, but I made it before five.

This place used to be my second home. Back when Donovan and I were close, I spent countless hours here. I laughed in these hallways. Sneaked into the kitchen for cookies. Watched movies with Donovan in the rec room.

Now it felt cold. Unwelcoming.

The moment I stepped inside, Elena, the housekeeper, spotted me. Her lip curled like she'd just smelled something rotten.

"Well, well. Look what the storm dragged in," she sneered, crossing her arms. "The traitor's daughter graces us with her presence."

I took a slow breath. "Good morning, Elena."

"Don't you 'good morning' me." She stepped closer, her finger jabbing toward my face. "You're an eyesore. You shouldn't be within a mile of this Pack House."

"That's not your decision, Elena." I straightened my spine, lifting my chin. She was a servant. She had no right to speak to me like that.

Her eyes went wide when I talked back. She shoved me backward, hard. "You filthy, disgusting traitor! How dare you open your mouth? You should be in the dungeons. Or running with the rogues like your father. Alpha is too merciful, letting you walk around spewing your nonsense."

Her voice kept rising. Louder and louder. Like she wanted to provoke me.

I didn't take the bait.

I held her gaze for a moment. "Elena," I cut in, my voice calm and cold. "Future Alpha Donovan assigned me this task. If you want to slow me down, go ahead. I'll tell him you interfered with his orders."

Her face twisted. "I'll be watching you," she hissed. "If you think I'm going to let this be easy for you."

I walked past her before she could finish.

It felt good to stand up for myself.

Even if my voice was shaking.

I climbed the stairs to Donovan's floor, my stomach clenching with every step. The hallway was silent. I held my breath as I approached his room. My palms were sweating when I raised my hand to knock.

Three soft knocks.

The door swung open almost instantly.

Donovan stood there in nothing but a pair of gray shorts. His hair was a mess, like he'd just rolled out of bed. Bare chest. Lean muscle. Smooth skin. The kind of body every girl in school dreamed about.

But all I saw was the boy who'd sworn to make my life hell. The one who'd grabbed my throat last night and nearly choked me unconscious.

His eyes swept over me, cold and flat. No expression. Not even annoyance.

Just ice.

"You're late," he said, his voice flat. "And being late means punishment."