Chapter 2 Working As The Pack's Slave

Chapter 2-Working As The Pack's Slave

LENA

My body felt like it was shutting down. I was still on the kitchen floor, too weak to move. My eyes closed on their own-I didn't want to sleep, but I couldn't stop it. Darkness pulled me under.

⸻

A sharp kick to my head snapped me awake. I gasped in pain, clutching my skull.

Why is it always my head?

I looked up.

Melinda.

Her cold, perfect face looked down at me like I was filth. My chest tightened.

"Please," I begged, crawling to her. "Please don't tell our mother I slept off. I didn't mean to. I was just tired-please."

She shoved me so hard I fell flat on my face. "Don't touch me, dirty thing."

Then slap-her palm cracked across my face. My ears rang.

"Don't ever call her your mother," she spat. "She's my mother, not yours. You're just the trash she was forced to keep."

Tears burned in my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. I just held my face, nodding.

"I'm telling her you were sleeping," Melinda said, turning toward the door.

"No!" I cried, crawling after her and grabbing her leg. "Please, don't! She'll kill me this time. Please... please, I'll do anything!"

She stopped.

"Anything?" she asked, staring down at me.

"Yes. Anything."

Melinda smirked. "Fine. I won't tell. But now, you owe me. Big time." Then she stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

I stayed on the floor, shaking.

I had just avoided death. Barely.

I pulled myself up slowly and went back to the sink. My hands were shaking, but I forced them to work. Scrub. Rinse. Scrub. Rinse. I didn't stop until every plate sparkled.

Then the dessert.

I started mixing the cupcake batter, even though my body felt like it would collapse. I am barely aware of my own hands. I slid the tray into the oven and leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

A mirror hung in the corner. I turned to it.

What I saw broke me.

My face... swollen. Pale. Eyes red and puffy. Lips cracked. I looked dead. Like someone barely hanging on.

"This can't be me," I whispered. "This isn't me..."

I turned away.

The oven dinged.

I pulled the cupcakes out, arranged them neatly on a tray just like she'd shown me, and walked out of the kitchen.

And that's when I heard them.

The whispers.

"She's the omega that killed her parents."

"I bet she poisoned the food."

"I wouldn't eat that. She's cursed."

"If it were me, I would've left her in the woods."

I kept walking like I didn't hear them. But I heard every word.

They said it every day. Like a ritual. Five times a day, at least. But it never hurt less.

I still had a heart.

I still wanted someone to believe I was innocent.

I wished my parents could come back, just for one day. Just one. To tell them I didn't kill them. That I wasn't a monster.

"Why are you out here scaring my guests?" a cold voice snapped.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered, my voice barely there. She didn't reply. Didn't look at me. She just grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the kitchen.

Whispers followed us.

"She's such a disgrace."

"I wouldn't let her near my food."

"Look at that cursed thing-how pitiful."

I shut my eyes, but I still heard them. Every word. Each one cutting deeper than the last.

I held the cupcake tray in one hand while her nails dug into my other. A tear slid down my face.

When we reached the kitchen, she shoved me inside and slammed the door.

Her eyes were on fire.

"Why did you show your disgusting face to my guests?" she snapped.

I wanted to say, You never gave me decent clothes. I wore what I had. But I stayed quiet.

"Answer me!" she screamed, slamming the table.

I flinched. "You told me to serve the dessert once it was ready," I said quietly.

"Shut up!" she yelled. "I don't want your excuses. Just get out of my sight. Go to your room and don't come out till the party is over."

I didn't wait. I rushed out the back way.

⸻

My room was a closet with a thin mat on the floor. Cold. Dark. The air smelled like damp walls.

I dropped to the ground the second I got in. I pressed my face against the floor and cried until I couldn't breathe.

Everyone hates me.

Even the people I call family.

I didn't ask for this life.

I must have passed out crying, because next thing I knew-

BANG!

A fist hit the door so hard I jumped and I already knew who it was.

I scrambled to open it. No time to wipe my face or fix my hair. If I took too long, she'd find a reason to punish me.

She stood there, arms crossed, eyes filled with disgust. "To the sitting room. Now."

I nodded fast and followed. My legs felt weak. I could barely walk straight.

When we entered the room, I froze. Everyone was there. My stepfather. Melinda. Her.

Why were they all waiting?

My stepfather stood. "Lena, this is about you."

I swallowed hard. "M-me?"

"Yes," he said calmly. "We need your help."

That scared me more than any beating ever could.

Why am I having a feeling that this is going to end terribly?

"My help?"

He nodded. "Melinda has a... situation. She's supposed to go to the pack tomorrow. But she can't. So we want you to go in her place."

My eyes widened. "Why? What kind of situation-?"

"Don't ask questions," my stepmother snapped.

I looked at Melinda. She avoided my eyes.

I wanted to refuse. I wanted to scream. But I also knew-I had no choice.

"If you don't help," my stepmother said with a cruel smile, "we'll make your life worse than it already is. You think you've suffered? You haven't seen anything yet."

I clenched my fists.

"Okay," I whispered. "I'll do it."

She smiled, like she'd won a game. "Good. Now sign this."

She shoved a file toward me.

"What's this?" I asked, staring at it.

"Just sign it," she said. "You don't need to know the details."

My hand trembled as I picked up the pen. Something deep in my gut screamed at me to stop. But I couldn't.

I signed.

She snatched the file away like it was gold.

"Perfect," she said, her eyes cold and gleaming. "You'll be working as the pack's maid from now on. Serving the alpha. Every day. Every night. For the rest of your life."