CHAPTER 27: CHAPTER 27: TOO LATE TO SAVE

Selene’s POV

I felt a touch...light and careful, brushing against my skin. It was not cruel or forceful but gentle in a way that made my body tense with confusion.

But my body didn’t understand.

I flinched before I could think, curling in on myself like a cornered animal. My arms wrapped tightly around my knees. Every part of me screamed, my chest tightening until I couldn’t breathe.

"No... please... don’t," I whispered; the words barely made a sound. My lips trembled. My eyes stayed shut. I didn’t want to open them. I didn’t want to see them again. I couldn’t.

Please... Moon goddess, please... Don’t be them.

"Shhh... It’s alright, girl. You’re safe now."

That voice...

It wasn’t sharp or filled with disgust. It didn’t drag across my ears like broken glass. It was warm and filled with kindness.

I felt a soft cloth gently wipe my cheek. The touch wasn’t forceful. It didn’t burn across my skin. It didn’t bruise. It was careful—so careful, like it was afraid I might shatter again.

I forced my eyes open.

And there she was.

It was Mariam, the head maid, and what shocked me most was that the touch had come from her. I never imagined she was capable of such gentleness. She had always been poised and precise in her duties, her voice steady with command, and her presence firm and unshaken.

She looked older today. Not from time, but from sorrow. Her eyes glistened with held-back tears, her lips trembling as she wiped away the dried blood from my arms. Her hands shook. I could tell she was trying to be strong for me.

But I wasn’t strong.

Not anymore.

The moment I saw her, I don’t know why—but I broke.

A sound tore out of me, filled with sadness and fear. My chest tightened as a loud sob escaped my lips.

I reached for her, needing something real to hold on to. My fingers barely brushed her arm, and I choked on the words.

"Mariam..." I whispered. "Did they... did they do it to me?"

Her hands froze.

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. I saw it in her eyes—rage, pain, helplessness. Then she dropped the cloth and gently cupped my cheeks, her thumbs brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop.

"No, my sweet girl. No," she whispered, voice breaking. "You’re safe. Nothing happened. You can feel it, Selene. Nothing happened, baby."

I closed my eyes again, trembling. I reached inward—fear clawing at my stomach. But... she was right.

There was no pain there.

But the rest of me was the proof of the humiliation I faced.

Bruises, finger marks, and welts along my thighs. My ribs ached, and my arms screamed. My body remembered every place they had grabbed me, every place they had shoved me, hit me, and held me down like I was nothing.

And the memories came back like fire.

They dragged me into the corner of the room. Cold stone beneath me. Their boots thudded around me like I was an animal they had trapped.

I remember their eyes.

Gods, their eyes. They were hungry, cruel, and disgusting.

Like they were going to eat me—like I was nothing more than meat they wanted to devour, but only after toying with me first, savoring the fear before the feast.

They laughed at my fear. They tore my clothes. One of them slapped me hard across the face when I tried to pull away. Another grabbed my hair, shoving me back down. My mouth filled with blood. My screams never came out—they died in my throat.

"Stupid little princess," one of them sneered. "Let’s see how high you hold your chin now."

They kicked me. Hit me. Gripped me so hard I thought my skin would tear. Their hands touched everywhere. Disgust poured through me like poison.

I wasn’t a person.

I was something they wanted to ruin.

And I let them. Because I couldn’t move. I was frozen, locked in my own body, too terrified to even breathe.

I remember the moment I gave up.

I stopped fighting.

Stopped hoping.

Everything inside me just... went quiet.

The last thing I remember was someone shouting. A loud and angry voice But by then... I was already gone.

I blacked out.

And now I hated him.

But more than anything—I hated myself.

For being too weak.

For not fighting.

For being so pathetic, I couldn’t even scream.

Mariam hushed me softly, rocking me in her arms as I cried until there was nothing left. My voice was raw. My face soaked with tears. My soul was already shattered.

She laid me back on the bed with care, covering me again with a soft sheet. She disappeared into the hallway, then returned with warm water and bandages. She cleaned my wounds gently, even though I flinched every time she touched me. She didn’t say anything about it.

She just... stayed.

And when she was done, she helped me into a soft cotton dress. It was simple, pale blue, something light and clean.

She brushed the knots from my hair and the dried blood from my scalp. Then she placed a warm bowl of soup into my hands, whispering, "Just a little. Please, Selene."

I drank. I don’t know why. Maybe because her voice made me feel like a child again. Like maybe I could be held together if someone else believed I could.

And when I finished, she kissed my forehead, pressed her hand to my cheek, and whispered, "Rest now. Everything will be fine tomorrow."

Then she left.

The door closed behind her with a soft click.

I lay there in silence, staring at the wall. My thoughts were a mess—like smoke in my head. I didn’t cry anymore.

I just stared—like a lifeless doll, frozen and empty, feeling hollow on the inside, as if everything that made me human had been scraped away, leaving only silence where my soul used to be.

My fingers twisted into the hem of my dress. My heart beat, but it felt far away.

Some part of me was still there in that corner, still on that cold floor, surrounded by those eyes.

And no matter what Mariam said...

I didn’t feel safe.

I didn’t feel clean.

I didn’t feel like myself anymore.