Chapter 6 YOU'RE LATE

CHAPTER 6: YOU'RE LATE

AMANDA'S POV:

I got into our small apartment and pretended all was well. But I barely slept that night.

My neck still burned where Donovan's fingers had wrapped around it, and even though I covered the marks with concealer, I still felt the skin around my neck throb. What made it more painful was the fact that Donovan, my own Donovan, had done this to me.

This was the person who used to drive me home after school every day, who used to buy cafeteria fries just to make a drawing of my face on the floor just so I could laugh. That's the same person who now calls me names, dragging me by the throat like I was dirt under his shoes.

I wanted to scream out in frustration. I wanted to break down and cry. But I did neither-because what good would it do?

By the time I got into our living room, soaked with cafeteria food, and shaking from everything that had happened, I made sure to wipe the tears from my face before my mom saw it. She was sitting at the table, looking tired but smiling gently like she always did when she saw me.

"Hey, baby," she said softly. "You had a rough day?"

I shook my head and forced a smile. "Not really. But the math exam was a bit tougher than I had expected."

I didn't dare tell her everything I went through today. She already struggled with her health problems, and stressing her out would only make it worse. The last thing I wanted was for the pack to use her sickness as another excuse to shame us.

I headed to my room, grabbed my concealer, and applied some more to cover the red marks on my throat. Looking in the mirror now, the bruises were ugly-finger-shaped shadows of what Donovan had done. I tried not to look at them too long. I didn't want to start crying again.

When I went back to the living room, my mom had gone to the kitchen. I peeped in and saw her stirring a pot on the stove. The smell of peppers and onions filled the house.

"Mom, let me help." I stepped toward her.

She shook her head quickly. "No. Not today. The pack doctor came earlier. Gave me medication. I feel better." She pointed to Max's room. "If you want to help, go check your brother's homework. He's been complaining about not being able to solve a particular math problem."

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Thank God the Alpha still let the doctor treat her. That meant we weren't fully cut off yet. It meant we still had a chance to survive.

"Okay," I murmured and headed to Max's room, grateful I didn't have to lie any more than I already had.

Max looked up as soon as I stepped in. "Amanda! I drew a werewolf! Look!"

I smiled at the little stick-figure wolf he scribbled across the page. His innocence soothed something in my chest. I sat beside him, helped him finish his math homework, and pulled him up to his feet so we could go to the kitchen together and have dinner..

When mom was done making dinner, we sat round the table and ate in silence. Mia particularly pouted. She has been that way since we were driven away from the beta mansion to the Omega tenement.

I went to bed as soon as dinner was over. I needed to wake up early because I didn't want to piss Donovan off. The next day, I woke up earlier than I ever did. Donovan had ordered me to report to the main pack house for "cleaning duties." His tone had been cold,y threatening. He didn't even bother hiding the fact that this was punishment. He had said this was a way to "atone" for my father's supposed betrayal.

Dad.

I still didn't believe the Alpha's story about him defecting and joining the rogues. Not for one second. But I didn't have facts to back it up, and being the daughter of a "traitor" meant everyone treated me like the disease my father supposedly spread.

I walked the whole way to the pack house. My legs were tired, but I made it there a few minutes before seven.

The main house used to be my second home. I spent so much time there when Donovan and I were close. I used to laugh in those hallways, sneak cookies from the kitchen, watch movies with Donovan in the rec room.

Now the place felt cold, like I was no longer welcome here.

Elena, the housekeeper, spotted me the moment I walked in. Her lips curled like she smelled something rotten.

"Well, look what the storm dragged in," she scoffed, folding her arms. "The traitor's daughter decided to show up."

I inhaled slowly. "Good morning, Elena."

"Don't 'good morning' me." She stepped closer and jabbed a finger near my face. "You're an eye saw and shouldn't be seen anywhere near the pack house."

"That's not for you to decide, Elena," I responded, holding my shoulders high. She was a servant and had no right to talk down on me.

Her eyes widened when I responded to her. She shoved me backward. "You filthy, disgusting traitor. How dare you open your mouth to speak. You should be in a dungeon now, or living among rogues like your father. But the alpha is too lenient. That's why you still have the gut to speak."

Her voice rose with each word, almost like she was trying to provoke me into reacting.

I didn't.

She frowned when her insults didn't work. "I'll be watching you," she hissed. "And if you think I'll make this easy on you."

I stared at her for a moment. "Elena,

I cut her off. Calm and cold. "it's Donovan, the future Alpha who assigned me this work. If you keep getting in the way and slowing me down, then be my guest. I will tell him you delayed his tasks."

Her face twisted. She opened her mouth to snap something back, but I walked right past her before she could.

For once.

It felt good to stand up for myself.

Even if my voice was shaking inside.

I climbed the stairs to Donovan's floor, my stomach tightening with every step. The hallway was quiet. I held my breath as I approached his room. My hands were sweating when I lifted them to knock.

Three soft taps.

The door swung open almost instantly.

Donovan stood there in nothing but gray shorts, hair messy like he'd just rolled out of bed. His chest was bare, exposing lean muscle, and smooth skin. This was the kind of body every girl in school drooled over.

But all I saw was the monster who'd vowed to make my life a living hell, a monster who'd squeezed my throat so tight last night I almost passed out.

His eyes were dark and cold as they swept over me. No emotion. Not even annoyance.

Just ice.

"You're late," he said flatly, glaring at me.