NovelEnglishChapter 42: Chapter 42: The Moon Goddess Forgot to Take Pity on Me
Selene’s POV
| had promised myself | wouldn't cry.
| swore it right here in this sroom when Kael had draggedhere with the collar locked around my neck
and stripped the last pieces of my nand freedom. | had stared at the stone walls then, numb but proud, and
told myself | 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
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.
| 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 sman who used to chasethrough moonlit halls as a boy. The sboy who once gavea
polished pebble and swore it was from the stars. He had shattered that version of himself tonight...smashed it
like glass and madebleed with the pieces.
There was nothing gentle left in him.
His touch hadn’t sought closeness. It had hunted something else...something vicious and punishing. | 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 voice, only disgust and anger.
"This is where you belong, Selene... crawling and crying on the floor, right where you belong... under my boots."
The words cracked through my skull again, louder than the sobs. Louder than my own breathing. And God help
me—I believed them in that moment. | had believed | was nothing. Because | couldn't fight him when my
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My body folded in tighter as | 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 | had already lost so much.
The bruises on my thighs matched the shape of his fingers. | traced one absently with a trembling hand. My skin
felt too raw as a hiss left my lips. | wasn’t just ashamed. | felt contaminated.
Not in the simple way that dirt and sweat could fix. But in the soul-rotting way that made you want to scrape
yourself raw and still not feel clean.
And the worst part?
It was because of him.
In that horrible, frozen way when your mind goes quiet and your body stops listening. When fear wins.
| clenched my fists so tightly my nails broke skin. | needed that pain. | needed to feel something | had chosen.
And then, slowly, my rationality began to return. | becpainfully aware of the condition | was sprawled in on
the floor. My limbs were twisted awkwardly, my face pressed against cold stone.
Not because | had suddenly found strength. No, | didn’t feel strong at all. But spart ofunderstood that if
| stayed down any longer, | might never get back up.
So | forced my hand 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 else | carried.
Slowly, | pulled my knees under me. It felt like lifting a mountain. My body ached, my ribs protested, and my legs
shook with the effort.
Still, | pressed my bare feet to the floor. The coldness shot throughlike a jolt of reality. And then, | pushed
myself up, not gracefully.
But still | stood.
One step.
Then another.
The short walk to the bathroom felt like crossing a battlefield. Each step made my joints ache. | passed the tall
mirror near the door and turned my face away from it. | didn’t want to see what I looked like.
| pushed the bathroom door open with my shoulder. It creaked softly. The air inside was still, heavy with the
scent of them. But I ignored it all and stepped in.
. )
| didn't pause for a second before |
reached for the ties of the ein
gown and yanked ther odse: The
fabric Bes from my shoulders
like a discarded cloth, pooling at my
feet in silence. | stepped out of it. The
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Then | turned on the water.
| twisted the cold knob hard, and a sharp stream burst out. It hitlike a slap—icy, unrelenting. My breath
hitched. My skin flinched. But | stepped under it anyway.
The cold grounded me.
| grabbed the soap bar and dragged it
across my skin with brutal force.
Over and over. Arms, chest. sEgRTach,
neck. Exgrpyree head touched. |
sérlbbed until my skin burned red,
until it hurt more than the bruises.
The water pooled at my feet, cloudy
and slick, as if it could wash away
what had happened. The content is
on novelenglish.net! Read the latest
chapter there!
But it couldn't.
Still, I kept scrubbing. I didn’t cry anymore. There was nothing left to cry out—just a ringing silence in my ears
and the pounding rhythm of my heart.
But it seemed the goddess had forgotten to take pity on me. As if | couldn't even be allowed a moment of peace
before trouble cknocking.
BANG.
The door slammed open behind me.
The sound snapped through the
silence, and | froze witmyhehts
sil scribing. My shoulders jumped,
and | quickly raised my arms to cover
my chest as | turned toward the
noise. The content is on
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chapter there!
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