Alpha Alvar's Runaway Bride

Rylee

I wake up before the sun every day and trek through the snowy forest to the packhouse by 6 a.m.

From 6 to 9 a.m., I'm stuck cleaning the kitchen and doing hard labor. They won't let me handle food because they think I'll make it dirty. Only when Marta, the kitchen manager, is too busy, she'll let me help make flour for muffins.

Greenvale is far up north, so mornings are late here. By the time I finish in the kitchen, it's just getting light outside.

At 9 sharp, I head to the laundry room. Doing laundry in winter is brutal since we don't have washing machines. The pack's finances are tight, and sometimes our heater doesn't work. If I want hot water, it's all about luck-which, unsurprisingly, isn't on my side today. Happy birthday to me.

I turn on the faucet. Great. No steam. Just icy cold water.

I soak my hands in the biting cold and struggle to wash the clothes Alpha and Luna have piled up over the past week. My fingers quickly freeze and turn purple. Other werewolves might not mind the cold, but I do. My body is weaker than the average omega, probably because I've never been properly breastfed.

I was never once nursed by my mother. Never. She died giving birth to me.

I really wish I had a washing machine. As soon as I get out of this hellhole, the first thing I'm doing is saving up to buy one!

After Alpha and Luna's laundry, I start washing Beta and his wife's clothes. When I finally get all the laundry done and am ready to take them to the kitchen to dry, someone bumps me hard from behind.

I fall. The clothes scatter all over the ground.

Who the fuck just...

I look up. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a semi-permanent look of impatience. It's Syd.

Alright, never mind. Without a word, I get up and gather the clothes.

Syd is Beta's son and the designated next Beta. Pack rules say cursing superiors will be punished, and the last thing I want is a beating.

Syd yells at me, "You're in my way."

The road is wide. I'm skinny. He's 6'3". I'm 5'2". How am I in his way? Idiot.

I don't want to argue with him; the guy's sick. We've been at odds since we were kids. He's always picking on me. The more I argue with him, the more he enjoys it. When I warn him, he will tug on my ponytail. The best way to deal with him is to ignore him.

I turn around and try to walk away.

Syd stops me. "Did I tell you to go? Why don't you talk? Are you dumb?" he sneers.

I try to move to the side, but he moves with me. When I push him, he doesn't budge.

Glaring up at him, I roll my eyes. "Can't you see I'm busy? Say what you have to say and stop bothering me while I'm taking my clothes to be rewashed." I grit my teeth and emphasize the word 'rewashed'.

Syd throws a couple of pairs of dirty underwear into the basin I'm holding and grins as if he doesn't get the hint. "So you're doing laundry. Just in time, wash a few for me too."

I look at him with a blank face. My hand clutches the basket, and Syd can't see that my fingers are swollen and purple like tiny eggplants. He doesn't understand what it means to wash clothes twice in the dead of winter.

Syd growls, "What's with that look on your face? It's just a few pieces of cloth. Why are you so mad?"

I lower my eyes. "No, I'm just worried I won't make it to lunch later."

Syd curls his mouth, "Even dogs don't eat that mess together. I don't know why you're so obsessed with it." He puts his hands in his pockets, where there seems to be a small box inside. "Come meet me after dinner. I have something to tell you, and I'll bring you some food."

"Okay."

Syd won't let me leave until I nod repeatedly, confirming that I'll come to him. After thinking for a moment, torn between "heading straight to the kitchen" and "behaving well and rewashing," I decide to go back to the laundry room. The last time I didn't mop under Luna's bed, I got twenty lashes. I'd better not slack off. The bitch has eyes like a hawk.

I've known for a long time that fate loves to mess with me. I'm used to it, but it still gets tough sometimes. Just as I finally finish washing Syd's panties, the hot water kicks in. I grab my sore waist and stare at the steaming pool.

The heater's not broken, so someone turned it off. Now it's on. Luna's up for a shower?

She always has a way of messing with me.

"It's been eighteen years." Mist rises from the collision of hot water and cold air, wrapping me in its smoky embrace. I mutter to myself over the pool, "Just bear with it a little longer. I'll be gone soon."

"Rylee Green. Happy birthday to you."

Rylee

Television is a blessing, and I love watching it. The main character in the TV show has everything I dream of-school, hot water, a washing machine, air conditioner, mattress, her own bowl...

And, most importantly, equality and freedom.

Life is hard, and it's nice to daydream once in a while.

Marta won't let me talk about TV shows. She says human stuff is bullshit. Hierarchy is innate; wolves have to follow the rules of their bloodline.

She told me to watch less crap made up by lower beings.

But I really want to ask her: the refrigerator, microwave, and oven are all man-made, and I don't see you using them any less. Of course, I don't ask. I'm not stupid. I don't want to get beaten up.

By the time I get to the kitchen with my basket, it's lunch time. The whole place smells like roast chicken.

It's my birthday today. I have to watch the hit TV show Alpha's Runaway Bride while I eat.

I drop the clothes on a line and drape them around the stove. Then I grab a couple of potatoes from the coals and dash to the corner. Over there, a small black-and-white TV sits on the counter. It's old and low quality, but I'm happy with it. It shows the same programs as Luna's fancy 4K HD TV anyway!

There's a heated discussion at the table, but I don't care at all; I just want to watch the show.

I press the power button.

"I heard that Alpha is fretting these days. Business at the pack is getting worse; it's about to be untenable. Gamma Anto, is that true?"

Huh? Why won't the TV turn on? I check back and forth; nothing seems wrong.

"It's been pretty tough. Alpha is planning on selling some of the useless wolves to the big guys as slaves. Lest they waste our food."

I slap the top of the machine hard. It doesn't work; the screen stays black. I'm getting anxious because I really want to see what happens in the next episode. Last time, the heroine told the hero she wanted to go to school, and the hero handed over a contract. I want to see what the contract says!

"Alas, it depends on who is unlucky enough to be sold into slavery. I've heard that if you're a slave, you live and die at your master's discretion. Great Goddess of the Moon, please don't pick me!"

I unplug the power and signal cables, cradle the TV in my arms, and head for the back door of the kitchen.

"Don't worry, Marta. We still need you in the kitchen. Besides, who's better at being a slave than Rylee? Look at her... Rylee!!! What the fuck are you doing?!"

A voice like a landmine explosion yells my name, startling me so much that I almost drop the TV in my hands.

I stop in my tracks and turn my head, bewildered.

It's Gamma Anto, no wonder. Anto and Luna are in cahoots. They both take pleasure in making my life miserable.

Anto stands with his hands on the table, glaring at me angrily. Across from him, Syd is frowning, his fork clenched tightly.

Syd's in the dining room too? I thought he didn't like potlucks.

"Where are you going with the TV in your arms? Do you know it's a FELONY to steal and sell pack assets?" Anto pushes his chair away heavily. Its legs make an unpleasant scraping sound on the floor tiles.

"Gamma," I obediently bow my head, showing him the back of my neck, "I didn't steal the TV. I was going to take it to my bedroom to fix it. It's broken."

Anto rushes over and slaps me across the face. He's so strong that my head is slapped sideways. My check immediately swells up, and my mouth tastes like rust.

He's doing this again. This jerk won't be happy for a day without hitting me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Syd lurch to his feet.

Anto's spit sprays the top of my head. "Who gave you permission to take it away? Who knows if you're going to fix it or sell it? Do you realize what you're doing is stealing? Did I ever tell you no stealing?"

He did, countless times, in front of everyone. But I didn't steal anything, not once!

Anto snatches the TV out of my arms, turns, and shouts, "Marta, Marta, get over here and check the TV! I want to see if the rat is lying."

He pushes his way through the crowd and places the TV on the dining table, plugging the power supply into the nearby outlets.

He pushes through the crowd again and pulls me roughly over. I stumble and fall over.

Next to my face is the TV. I reach up and press the power button, the screen doesn't light up. "Look! It's broken! I didn't steal anything!" I yell in all directions, and with eager eyes. I look over to Marta, who just came over, trembling. Marta could prove that I just like to watch TV and that I wasn't lying.

However, Marta doesn't answer. She avoids even making eye contact with me.

"Marta?" I ask incredulously.

As she pulls the remote out of her apron pocket with trembling hands, I know that this is the end for me.

Rylee

The pack's prison is an old warehouse that used to be a chicken pen. It still smells like chicken poop and feed. My hands are tied behind my back, and whip marks cover my body. They dumped me on a stiff, musty pile of hay. Tiny stalks of grass dig into my skin, stinging and bleeding.

I want to scream, but I don't. I'm pretending to be unconscious.

In Greenvale pack, thieves get 40 lashes, executed by Gamma. Anto, that brutal dog, loves to play dirty. I fainted and woke up in pain several times during the torture. At the 35th lash, I thought I was going to die. But then I saw Syd rush over and pull Anto's whip. He got another 10 lashes for that.

Thanks to Syd, I survived. Then I thought pretending to be unconscious was a good idea. Anto likes to see the look on my face when he tortures me. If I don't react, he might give up sooner.

"Go see if she's dead," I hear Anto say to his men. Footsteps approach me, and I hasten to make my breathing soft and even. A hand comes up to my nose and probes.

"Still alive. She just passed out," Anto's henchman says.

"She might be faking it." Anto walks over and kicks me in the face. I imagine I'm a pile of straw, a piece of turf, something inorganic. I don't need to breathe. I don't react. I can't feel the pain.

Then Anto kicks me hard in the chest.

I'M STRAWS! A TURF! A FEEDER!

I clench my teeth to keep from groaning. Anto's kick sends me rolling off the haystack, landing face down on the cold, hard ground.

Terrible pain surges through my chest. Are my ribs broken?

No. He's watching me. I can't move.

After a few seconds, I hear Anto say, "Looks like she really passed out. Let's go."

The men's footsteps fade away, and I hear the warehouse door close.

I start counting silently: 1, 2, 3... After about two minutes, Anto returns. Seeing me still in the same position, he curses and leaves.

Ten more minutes pass. Making sure it's safe, I groan and roll over.

The wounds on my face hurt badly and my skin is burn and bleeding. Blood drips onto the floor. My arms are numb from being tied up so long. My chest aches dully. When I move, it hurts like hell; more than one rib must be broken.

Gasping for air, I struggle to move myself back onto the pile of straw. It stinks, but if I spend the night on the cold ground in this condition, it would be my corpse that stinks worse tomorrow.

I collapse into the straw, whimpering in pain. My stomach is empty and protesting.

I try to distract myself.

I try to distract myself. I think about the potatoes I didn't have time to eat for lunch. I imagine them perfectly baked and jumping into my mouth. I picture kicking Luna out of the packhouse, hogging her 4k screen, and soaking in her hot tub. I imagine people turning off the lights to surprise me with a birthday song, bringing me roast chicken and lemon cake. Wait, that smell...

I open my eyes. There's really roast chicken and lemon cake in front of me!

Syd covers my mouth. "Shh, don't scream, it's me."

I nod, signaling for him to put his hand down.

"Hurry up and untie me. I can't feel my hands anymore," I say weakly.

Syd's rough movements intensify my pain. Beads of sweat break out on my forehead. I grit my teeth and say, "Be gentle. If I'm not beaten to death, you'll waste me. My ribs seem broken."

"Ribs? Shit, Anto dares to abuse lynching! When I become Beta, I'll make him suffer." Syd softens his movements. He unties the ropes, picks me up, and cradles me. "I'm late. I got someone to trick the warehouse guard into drinking before I dared to come."

"Water?" he asks. I nod. He feeds me small sips from a bottle. I can't take my eyes off the lemon cake.

Syd understands. He picks up a piece and brings it to my mouth. I don't mind his dirty hands and take a bite.

Lemon cake is the best thing in the world!

After a while, I feel better. My body, though fragile, recovers faster than the usual wolves. It's probably the only good thing my parents left me. I tell Syd to let go and start enjoying the roasted chicken with my back against the wall. Syd sits next to me, eating too. In no time, we wipe out all the food.

It's early morning, and time for Syd to go. Soon, the omegas will be up and working. He risks being spotted on his way back.

But Syd sits still. Moonlight spills over his young face through the fence at the top of the warehouse. I see confusion glinting in his brown eyes.

I know what he's confused about. Since this morning, I've known it. This is a gift from the moon goddess. We have to live with it. I understand what he thinks about me. I know how he feels. I understand him. I suffer the same way he does. But I have something I desire more and I can't accept my fate. He doesn't know that...

"I..." He hesitates.

"Give it to me," I whisper.

"What?" He blinks, dumbfounded.

"My birthday present." I spread my hands. "Don't hide it. I saw it this morning in your pocket."

"How do you know it's for you? What if it's not?" He grimaces but pulls the box out and hands it to me. "I was going to give it to you at dinner, but then I wanted to say happy birthday sooner. So I went to the dining hall to find you, but Anto..." He pauses. "Anyway, happy birthday."

"Thanks." I open the box. It's a necklace with a moon carved from wood, rough and handmade. Clearly from an apprentice's hand.

Syd blushes slightly. "I know you like looking at the night sky, so I thought you especially like the moon... I carved this myself..."

I look at him, and he averts his eyes uncomfortably. "How did you guess I was giving you a present?"

"Of course I did." I sigh, stroking the still unpolished back of the carved moon. "Because I'm your mate."

"WHAT?!" He freezes, his expression as rigid as a statue.

"You knew that a long time ago," I turn my head and smile at his already frozen face. "Didn't you?"