Chapter 2 Shadows in the Storm

The rain hadn't stopped since the noon hour, and though it fell gently at first, it now lashed against the wooden windows like furious hands seeking entry. The sky outside wept without mercy, darkened as though mourning the cruelty of what was about to unfold inside the Mornell household.

Elaine stood in the hallway, her back still pressed to the wall where Maureen had left her hours ago. Her shift was damp with sweat, and her hands trembled as she wrung the fabric nervously. The room felt heavy-as if the very air was bracing for what would come next.

The door creaked open. Maureen stepped out.

Her eyes, dark and sharp like flint, narrowed upon Elaine. In one hand she held a long, thin switch freshly cut from the garden tree, dripping wet from the storm. In the other, was Priscilla's elegant pale-blue gown which she had been asked to clean and iron. She had washed and dried it but had no time to iron it and now, she knew her aunt wouldn't let it go easily.

"You thought I would forget, didn't you?" Maureen's voice slithered through the silence.

Elaine opened her mouth, but only air came out. She tried again.

"I-I was doing the chores. You sent me to the market... I begged Priscilla to iron it for me-"

Before she could say another word, the whip swung through the air and struck her across the forearm.

"You begged Priscilla? Who told you to beg anyone for your responsibilities?" Maureen hissed. "Did I not tell you I wanted this gown crisp, ready, and flawless? Did I not tell you how important it was for Priscilla to look as neat and as royal as possible?

I had always known you were bitter and jealous of Priscilla but never have I though it was to the extent that you would want her to appear as unfortunate as you to her ceremony"

Elaine backed away slowly, but Maureen advanced.

The next strike landed against her thigh. Then another across her shoulder.

"You lazy, ungrateful thing! Living under my roof, eating my food-"

The blows came faster, and Elaine's body twisted in every direction, trying to shield herself. The pain dug into her skin, searing like fire. She gasped at every lash, unable to scream anymore.

Maureen grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her forward. With inhuman strength born of years of resentment, she slammed Elaine's back against the stone wall.

Elaine let out a choked sob as the back of her head hit the wooden panel. Maureen threw the wet gown at her face.

"You dare bring shame to this house! You're filth, just like your mother."

Maureen shoved her again. Elaine staggered backward, feet slipping on the stone floor slick with mud tracked in from the storm. Then, with a final, forceful grip on Elaine's arm, she flung her toward the doorway.

The door flung open with a creak. Cold wind and rain rushed in, soaking Elaine instantly.

"Out!" Maureen bellowed. "Out of my sight!"

Elaine tumbled forward, landing hard on the wet stone steps. The rain greeted her mercilessly, soaking her to the bone. Her knees scraped against gravel. Her palms tore open. She gasped from the sting.

But Maureen was not done.

She strode forward and struck her again-this time, a heavy blow with the whip against Elaine's back. Elaine screamed, but the storm drowned it out. Her fingers clawed at the muddy ground, and her thin dress clung to her like second skin, almost translucent in the rain. Her braid was undone, strands of hair covering her face.

A few of the children peeked through the window, but none dared interfere.

Elaine finally collapsed against the muddy earth, shivering violently. Rainwater mixed with blood where bruises now colored her skin deep purple and blue.

As the storm continued, the wind howled, echoing her quiet whimpers. Her eyes fluttered. Everything went dark.

---

It was dusk when Stephan found her.

The rain had softened but hadn't stopped. He stepped outside with a lantern in hand and spotted the small, still form lying near the garden steps. His expression shifted from indifference to something like concern.

He rushed forward, touched her cold cheek, and cursed beneath his breath.

"Elaine..."

He lifted her easily, carrying her soaked body into the warmth of the house. Her head rested weakly against his chest, her lips pale.

Inside the washroom, he placed her carefully on a padded bench near the hearth. A fire had already been lit. He peeled the wet strands of hair from her face and began heating water.

Minutes passed. He dabbed a warm cloth across her arms, over her bruised shoulder, and down her legs. His gaze lingered. His fingers traced a purple welt rising along her hip. He stared too long. The cloth paused.

Elaine stirred.

Her eyes opened slowly, dazed and weak. The first thing she noticed was that her dress was clinging to her body, wet and rising halfway above her knee. Her skin flushed-partly from fever, partly from shame.

Stephan was watching.

He wasn't just watching-he was devouring. His gaze slid from her thighs to her chest, then to the hollow at her collarbone. It wasn't the look of concern.

Elaine stiffened. Her fingers trembled as she reached to pull her dress down.

"Th–Thank you," she said weakly, her voice like cracked glass.

Stephan leaned closer. Too close.

"Don't speak," he whispered. "Just rest."

But she saw the smirk forming on his lips. A knowing, twisted smirk that curled like a snake's tail. He knew what he had done. What he had looked at. And he didn't care.

Elaine pushed herself up on shaking legs, ignoring the aching pain in her bruises. Her body screamed, but her dignity screamed louder.

"I'll be fine," she muttered, barely audible.

She hurried out of the room, her wet feet pattering softly down the hall. Behind her, Stephan's eyes followed-sharp, steady, and possessive.

He didn't call her back.

He only smiled in the firelight, the way a predator smiles at prey too weak to fight back.