'What should I do... now?' The hallway air felt heavy, pressing against Bella's chest as she stood frozen near the dining entrance, her fingers white-knuckled around the fabric of her dress.

She wanted to flee, to vanish into the shadows where she belonged, but the memory of his words—Viktor's words about her sister—anchored her feet to the floorboards.

She knew that each of his words was true, from the fact of her sister to his awareness of Prince Leo's attack. Even if he didn't mention it explicitly, she knew he knew everything.

'He knows... he knows where she is.'

The thought looped in her mind, a desperate, jagged hope that pierced through the suffocating guilt of her own actions.

She had attacked Helena—Mira, bitten the hand of the very people who were now offering her shelter, and at that, she was still here, breathing, unchained.

Bella bit her lower lip, the sharp pain grounding her as she turned, her yellow eyes trembling.

She couldn't just leave, not when the answers she had sought for so long were finally within reach.

However, even more so when she came to know today that the woman she attacked was Lady Mira, not the head maid she was ordered to.

She took a step, then another, moving blindly toward the corridor that led to the kitchen, thinking she might find him alone to beg for just one more scrap of truth.

thud

'!'

"Ah." A shoulder struck hers, hard and hasty. Bella stumbled back, a gasp catching in her throat as she looked up to see Kaida brushing past her, red eyes narrowed and fixed on the floor.

"A-ah! Forgive me, I—" Bella started, her ears flattening instinctively against her skull.

But Kaida didn't even slow down.

The short red-haired girl just kept walking, her presence cold and dismissive, leaving Bella standing there with her apology dying on her lips.

The rejection stung, sharp and deep.

'They hate me,' Bella thought, her tail curling around her leg. 'Of course they do. I am nothing but an assassin who tried to kill her.'

Yet, as she hugged her own arms, her fingers brushed the soft fabric of the dress she wore—the dress Mira had given her.

A different memory surfaced, warm and soothing like bathwater.

She remembered the soap foams rising in the pond this morning, the gentle hands that had scrubbed the grime from her skin, the woman who had smiled at her not with suspicion, but with a motherly tenderness she hadn't felt in years.

Normally, either she never bathed, or before being sold, she was thrown into a water source, coming up trembling, tears already dried while being beaten for being a demon—a cat-kin.

Mira.

The woman she had tried to kill had bathed her, clothed her, and treated her like a daughter.

Bella's chest tightened, a fresh wave of guilt washing over her, but this time it was mingled with a fragile resolve.

Mira was kind. Viktor held the answers.

If she could just speak to them, apologize properly, maybe... maybe she could at least repay that warmth by leaving this household and running away back to Lady Elena, who would punish her but being a slave there was nothing she could do.

She didn't know what would happen after that... no, she actually knew what would happen but, rather than dying out of guilt, dying like a slave seemed much better.

She would at least die relieved that her sister was alive.

'I... I want to live...' Her thoughts trembled knowing no one was going to come and save her.

At least, vanishing into the background seemed much better with that relief.

With a shaky breath, she straightened her posture and walked toward the kitchen door.

But before she could even reach the handle, a sound stopped her dead.

"AAANGHH~~!!"

It was a scream, raw and broken, echoing through the wood.

Bella flinched, her heart hammering against her ribs as she pressed herself against the wall.

Was someone hurt? Was it an attack?

Trembling, she crept closer, her hand shaking as she pushed the door open just a crack.

What she saw shattered her world.

Mira was there. The gentle, motherly woman lay sprawled back on the dusty wooden counter, her legs wrapped tight around Viktor's waist, her head thrown back in an expression Bella had only ever seen on the faces of broken maids in noble palaces.

But Mira wasn't running. She was gripping his hair.

The air in the kitchen was thick, smelling of musk and something sharp and salty that made Bella's nose twitch.

Viktor stood between her thighs, his back to the door, driving his hips forward with a violence that made the heavy oak counter shudder.

PAH! PAH! PAAAH!

"Hngh~! Oungh~!! HIEKK~!!!"

Bella's hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp.

It was monstrous. The thing connecting them—the thick, vein-wrapped rod of flesh—disappeared into Mira's body, burying itself so deep that Bella could see the shape of it pushing against the woman's soft belly.

She watched, paralyzed, as Viktor pulled back, revealing the crimson, glistening head of his manhood, coated in slick, white fluids that dripped like saliva from a beast's jowls.

Then he slammed it back in.

PAH! PAH! PAH!

"H-Honey...! Y-yes...! B-break... Ahn! My... womb... HIIIIYAAA~~!!"

Bella's eyes widened until they burned. This wasn't the Mira she knew.

The woman's face was flushed a deep, unnatural red, her mouth hanging open, drool spilling down her chin as her massive breasts bounced violently with every impact.

'So deep... it feels like he's rearranging my guts... ahn! My love... it's burning me up... filling every inch... yes...!' Mira's mind was a haze of white-hot pleasure, her internal dignity melting away with every brutal thrust, her mouth twitched whenever his cockhead pierced her cervix in a painful kiss, making her feel alive.

Whenever she was with him, she could be her real self.

It was her first reason to love him.

'Ugh... she is tightening more!' Viktor didn't stop. He leaned over her, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her breast, his hand gripping her other tit so hard his fingers sank into the doughy white skin.

'She is really... so tight.' He always felt that every session made her tighter.

Technically, it seemed impossible since it should always be the same tightness, but she was just too... fucking hot.

The sight was overwhelming for Bella's naive eyes. She saw the way the heavy sacs beneath his rod slapped against Mira's wet, pink opening, creating a white froth that coated her thighs.

PHACK! PAAH! PAH!

"Oh God...! H-Honey...! I'm... I'm going...! AAANNGH...!! HIEEKK...!!"

Mira's body convulsed, her toes curling, her inner walls clamping down on him in a desperate rhythm.

But he didn't show mercy. He grabbed her leg, hiking it higher, opening her wider to the assault.

PAAAAAH!!

"GGGUUUUUHHHH~♡~!!!"

Bella felt her own knees go weak. The sheer vulgarity of it—the spit, the sweat, the sound of flesh colliding with flesh—was terrifying, yet she couldn't look away from the way Mira's eyes rolled back, completely lost in the throes of being ravaged.

It wasn't pain.

It was something strange, something Bella didn't have a name for. Watching the gentle mother figure transform into a sobbing, obviously hurt individual who seemed to enjoy it as if she had forgotten her nature made Bella feel confused and a strange heat.

Viktor pulled out almost completely, the wet SCHLUCK sound echoing in the silent kitchen, before dragging the swollen head of his cock violently against her wet, gaping entrance.

PLAP!

He didn't thrust back in. Instead, his hand wrapped around the base of his throbbing meat, the veins popping against his skin like cords of steel.

'!'

Bella's eyes widened seeing something she had never seen before.

'H-how such a big thing... fit inside?!'

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