DIANA'S POV.
I bent down, scrubbing the polished floor of Luna Delilah's chamber until my hands ached. The smell of lavender oil mixed with the faint burning of candle wax filled the room.
My rag slid over the marble tiles, leaving faint streaks of water behind. I worked carefully, yet my mind refused to stay quiet.
No matter how much I tried, I kept drifting into thoughts that made my chest heaved so high. I hated this…how unlucky I always seemed to be in this pack house as trouble followed me like a shadow.
I remembered the recent time I caused havoc here, the day my dog was running after me. He had knocked over a servant carrying wine, spilling the drink all over the pack house as the tray the servant wwas holding flew far.
