Chapter 2 Alpha

I've been subjected to the pack's brutality for years. After the unexpected passing of my mother, Alpha Jeremiah declared it to be the law that I would be a pack slave.

Taking the priceless life that our loving Moon Goddess so kindly bestowed upon her was her greatest treachery. They didn't care that she had been sexually assaulted and tormented or that her partner had lost his life attempting to protect her from the rogue wolf. One female wolf only transgressed one of our holy rules, which states that you must never dispute what the Moon Goddess has given you. No matter if it's your life or your partner, Never take the gifts from the Moon Goddess for granted; they are all blessings to be celebrated.

Her one moment of weakness, when she was upset about the darkness engulfing her soul, caused me to suffer for the rest of my life. Every second of the agonising days I am alive, my heart yearns for her as well. In addition, I have to live with the effects of every second since she left me.

The Alpha is a vicious individual who is breeding a pack of vicious wolves. They delight in torturing me. I can see the gloom engulfing them in their eyes. With every vicious hit to the face or kick to the ribs, endorphins are released. The disease that has gotten into their souls on a fundamental level

They started their heinous torture routine when I was old enough to walk.

At age 3, I experienced my first beating. The day is still clearly on my mind. Our pack's beta kicked me while he was passing by for no apparent reason.

That day, I cracked three ribs.

My nose was broken when I was five years old on the first day of school by a bunch of the Elite, which are the progeny of the ranked wolves. While blood covered the floor, laughter resounded throughout the hallways. They walked away and said to me, "Know your place, mutt."

At age 8, the Elite tortured me once more; this time, they held me down and removed all of my hair.

As I lay powerless on the ground, they teased me, calling me "What an ugly mutt you are." The bathroom floor was covered in strands of hair that the screaming, sobbing mess was attempting to gather. One of them spat at them as they passed, "Pathetic, you should just kill yourself, mutt."

Jessica McClain fractured my arm when I was 12 years old. I attempted to take her to lunch at school, and she informed her father, the Beta. They didn't even ask about it.

After that, Beta himself beat me up for attempting to steal anything from his daughter.

He punched me in the jaw, and she grinned from behind him. Before I dozed off in the pack house, a few of my teeth slipped out, and I heard a snap. I was lying on the muddy ground when I woke up to the sound of cold, heavy rain. They abandoned me here in the hopes that I would actually perish after throwing me outside like I was nothing. I am, unfortunately, still alive.

Over the years, the beatings didn't even require a justification; they could have resulted from my merely casting the wrong glance at someone.

The Alpha advised me to be thankful that he still permits me to go to school, and I suppose I am. I would never be able to leave this area without an education. It's impossible for anyone to take in a skinny, uneducated wolf. Any chance I had of escaping would be lost if they ever learned that I intended to flee. They would put me in the dungeons.

Everything in my life has been expensive, from the clothes I wear to the meals I have access to when they permit it. The price could be as minor as a face slap or as serious as a shattered bone. I am just thankful for my wolf-like healing abilities. Without that, there is no way I could exist.

Like the majority of the items in the pack house's basement, the floor I was supposed to sleep on was chilly and damp. An almost forgotten room used to store undesirable items. There was a nest of worn and abandoned bed linens tucked away in a little corner. I found the only solace I ever had in that messy pile.

At the age of 15, as punishment for whatever unimportant act they tried to rationalise, I was sent to bed hungry one lonely and dark night.

Normally, I could last several nights, but because it was already my fourth day without food, I had to stop. I made an effort to enter the kitchen covertly in search of the smallest food item. Maybe if I was incredibly quiet or from the trash. I could stow away anything in the refrigerator.

I had no idea that I wasn't alone in that space. Every move I took was being watched by a pair of jet black, dark eyes.

I overheard the Alpha saying, "What do you think you're doing, mutt?"

frozen in position. I was unable to move. My body began to tremble as fear overcame me.

"Oh, Alpha Jeremiah, I was going to the toilet," I replied.

The Alpha laughed, not because he found my response funny, but because he was getting ready to relish the short-term suffering he would cause me.

He got to his feet, and I braced for a collision. The little creases on the bottoms of his shoes were the last thing I noticed before going unconscious when his foot slammed into my head.