The Alpha's Silent Bride: Seventh Time's The Charm novel Chapter 123

Chapter 123: 123: You Did What?

THIRD POV

By the time Roselle finishes the last of the laundry, every muscle in her body aches with exhaustion. Hours of scrubbing bloodstained clothes with lye have left the skin on her hands raw and peeling, and every fresh wound burns as though fire has been poured into it.

Her knees protest with every step she takes. The cuts from the broken glass have reopened several times throughout the day, staining her dress with faint streaks of blood she no longer has the energy to care about.

Her head pounds relentlessly, and a wave of dizziness washes over her as she slowly makes her way back toward the pack house. Hunger twists painfully in her stomach, reminding her that she hasn’t eaten a single bite since waking up to Mara’s cruel prank that morning.

One thought continues circling through her exhausted mind.

She can’t let this become her life.

If Mara keeps forcing her into endless chores every day, she’ll never have the chance to search for the seer Ronan had planned to meet. Every wasted hour is another hour Ronan remains trapped inside the curse, and she refuses to sit back while the man she loves loses himself to the darkness.

She lets out a weary sigh, deciding she’ll think more clearly after getting some food and a little sleep. Right now, she’s too exhausted to form a proper plan, and forcing herself to think any harder feels like it might split her head open.

Dragging her aching body down the familiar hallway, she finally reaches the bedroom she once shared with Ronan. Relief briefly flashes across her face at the thought of collapsing onto the bed for even a few minutes.

The relief disappears the instant she notices the heavy lock hanging from the bedroom door.

Roselle stops in her tracks.

Two royal guards stand on either side of the entrance with rigid expressions, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Neither of them is Beau or Garrett.

A knot tightens in her stomach. Something tells her this isn’t going to end well.

"What’s going on?" she asks, her voice hoarse with exhaustion as she looks from one guard to the other.

The two guards exchange a brief glance before returning their attention to her.

"You’re not permitted to enter," one of them says stiffly. "We were ordered to stop you from going inside."

Roselle blinks, certain she must have misheard him.

"What?"

"The room is off-limits to you," the second guard replies. "Those are our orders."

A dangerous silence settles over her.

The exhaustion, the hunger, the humiliation, the pain in her raw hands, and the endless torment she’d endured all day collide inside her at once, igniting an anger so fierce it almost steals her breath.

Her pulse begins to pound violently in her ears. A strange heat spreads through her body, and she instinctively clenches her fists. She suddenly feels a crack so sudden echoi g from somewhere inside her skin.

She freezes, silently praying it’s not what she thinks it is. Irina’s warning replayed in her head.

Another crack follows, and then she lowers her gaze to her hands just in time to watch the torn, chapped skin across her palms begin knitting itself together. The deep cuts slowly begin closing, layer by layer, as though an invisible force is patiently repairing every wound she’d suffered.

Her breathing becomes uneven. No... Not now.

She quickly curls her fingers into fists, hiding the impossible healing before either guard notices.

"On whose orders?" she asks through gritted teeth. "This is my room."

Before either guard can answer, she’s gets distracted by the click of heels echoing down the hallway.

Click. Click. Click.

Slowly, she turns toward the sound.

Mara strolls down the corridor dressed in an elegant gown, her blonde hair perfectly styled and a smug smile already spreading across her face the moment their eyes meet.

"Well..." Mara drawls, clearly enjoying the sight before her. "Looks like someone’s had a long day."

I glare at her, every muscle in my body screaming from exhaustion.

"What the hell is the meaning of this, Mara?"

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