Lina didn’t return to their room the next night.
She couldn’t.
Her legs still ached. Her lips were bruised. Her body hummed with the ghosts of their touch. But worse than the soreness was the ache behind her ribs—the sudden realization that she didn’t know who she was anymore when they weren’t touching her.
She hadn’t been meant to feel anything.
She was supposed to be a maid. A girl with a mop and a schedule and a quiet place to sleep.
Instead, she was a woman who came on two Alpha c***s, begged for it, and wore a collar to bed.
And she needed to breathe.
She spent the morning avoiding everyone.
She folded towels in the laundry room long after her shift had ended. She skipped her lunch. Pretended not to hear the others whispering when she passed.
They knew.
Everyone knew.
And R
