The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 42: Chapter 42: The Moon Goddess Forgot to Take Pity on Me

Selene’s POV

I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry.

I swore it right here in this same room when Kael had dragged me here with the collar locked around my neck and stripped the last pieces of my name and freedom. I had stared at the stone walls then, numb but proud, and told myself I wouldn’t give them anything more. Especially not my tears.

But now they wouldn’t stop.

My body convulsed with each sob, my chest tightening as if ropes had wrapped around it. The cold tile beneath me was soaked through, muffling the gasps I tried so hard to hide. I pressed my face deeper into them, biting hard on my arm just to keep myself from screaming. But even that small act of control was slipping away.

The pain wasn’t just in my throat or chest.

It was everywhere. In the raw sting across my hips. In the tremble of my legs. In the places his hands had gripped too hard. There were bruises already...rising like angry flowers across my skin.

I dragged a shaking breath in, my fingers curling into my gown like claws. My arms had gone numb from how long I’d held myself there, bent forward, trying to disappear into the ground.

How could he do this?

The same man who used to chase me through moonlit halls as a boy. The same boy who once gave me a polished pebble and swore it was from the stars. He had shattered that version of himself tonight...smashed it like glass and made me bleed with the pieces.

nothing gentle left

and punishing. I could still feel it lingering: the pressure of his grip around my arms, the way his mouth moved against mine like a monster. There was no tenderness in his

belong, Selene... crawling and crying on

through my skull again, louder than the sobs. Louder than my own breathing. And God help me—I believed them in that moment. I had believed I

folded in tighter as I pulled my legs to my chest, each movement slow and aching. My gown was twisted around my thighs, torn along one side, the delicate fabric stained and wrinkled. It didn’t cover much anymore. It didn’t matter now when I had already

with a trembling hand. My skin felt too

simple way that dirt and sweat could fix. But in the soul-rotting way that made you want to scrape yourself raw and

And the worst part?

because

frozen way when your mind goes quiet and your body

my nails broke skin. I needed that pain. I needed to feel something

I was sprawled

But some part of me understood that if I stayed down

to move first, pressing my palm against the floor. The cold tile bit into my skin. My other arm followed, trembling under the weight of my body and everything

under me. It felt like lifting a mountain. My body ached, my ribs protested, and my legs shook

shot through me like a jolt of reality.

But still I stood.

One step.

Then another.