The Luna Queen's Rebirth (Ellie and Dominic) novel Chapter 253

Chapter 253

“I don’t need a handmaid, ” I said.

“I disagree,” Dominic replied.

I pursed my lips.

“It’s been arranged,” he said curly. “Mara starts today. She’ll have the room at the end of the east hall.”

I looked between the two of them. Mara’s smile hadn’t moved an inch. Dominic’s expression hadn’t either.

“Whose idea was this?” I asked.

Neither of them said anything, but something shifted almost imperceptibly in Dominic’s eyes, and that was answer enough.

Vivian. Of course it was her.

In my past life, when Dominic had eventually installed a handmaid, it had been Abigail. That was the version I had been prepared for. I had been halfway looking forward to it, honestly, because at least then I would have had an ally in the house. Someone I trusted. Someone who already knew everything.

This should have been her. But Vivian had meddled somehow and now it was another woman. And once again, I was alone, and if I said anything about it, then it would just make matters worse.

I decided that I wasn’t going to deal with this right now. At some point, perhaps, but not this second. I

needed to think.

“Fine,” I said.

I turned and went upstairs before anyone could respond.

The east hall room meant Mara was close. Too close, probably by design. I shut my bedroom door, dropped my bag on the floor, and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment with the book in my lap.

This was a problem. A handmaid I didn’t know, chosen by Vivian, installed by Dominic, tasked with following me around and reporting back. Which meant that anything I did from here on out was going to be documented.

I wasn’t sure how long I read. My eyelids eventually grew heavy, though, and the exhaustion from the last few days finally began to catch up with me.

Eventually, I let the book fall closed on my chest and let my eyes fall shut.

Sleep came fast.

In my dreams that night, I saw a knife, dark-handled and thin. The gleam of something wet along the blade. A figure at the edges, face swallowed up by shadow, watching without moving.

And then the slow, crawling spread of something cold working its way up through my veins. It was patient, like it was savoring each moment of agony.

I knew this dream, of course. Because it wasn’t just a dream, I had lived it before.

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