Chapter 78: Confession
Unlike the wooden bathtub Reana was used to, this one was made with porcelain, adorned with intricate drawings. It was beautiful, just like the room she was provided: lush carpets, velvet curtains, and intricately designed four-poster bed with silk sheets.
The humans seemed to be more productive, colorful, and innovative, unlike the werewolves community, who didn’t care for such luxuries.
They were content with their simple, rustic way of life and battles, and Reana had always been the same. But being here, surrounded by such beauty, peace, and opulence, made her wonder if there was more to life than she had known.
She slipped into the warm, colorful bubble, scented water, feeling the tension in her muscles ease as the fragrant steam enveloped her. The sweet aroma of roses and lavender filled her senses, calming her mind and soothing her skin. Reana closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh as she sank deeper into the water, the warmth seeping into her bones.
It was pure bliss, and for a moment, she forgot about the troubles of the coming winter, the complicated feelings about Ryder, and hard life she’d lived, choosing to indulge in this fleeting sense of luxury and peace.
Mirian knelt by the bath, scrubbing her back with a soft cloth, working out the knots and kinks that had accumulated from days of travel and hardship. Reana let out a contented sigh, feeling the gentle pressure of Mirian’s hands as she worked out the tension in her muscles.
Butler Charleston had offered her maid to help her, but Reana had rejected them. After the numerous attempts at her life in the pack, Reana had developed trust issues, especially with servants. The only person she had allowed to attend to her was Mirian, not because she trusted her too much, but because she reminded Reana of the kind of life she wanted to live, was she given a choice.
Mirian watched Reana, contemplating whether she should start her confession or not. She had thought she had made up her mind, but now that she had the chance to speak, the words got stuck in her throat.
Mirian’s hands paused in their gentle scrubbing, her mind weighing the pros and cons of speaking up. She didn’t want to be discarded or killed, but like Ryder said, her fate would be worse if the Luna brought it up herself.