Soraya’s POV

"And where do you think you're going?"

A hard shove sent my back colliding with the wall, making me cry out in pain as I slid down the wall. I looked up to find Eleanor and her clique hovering over me with menacing expressions on their faces.

I looked away as Leanora, a thick ginger-haired girl, lowered herself to me level to squeeze my mouth. I tried to fight her off but her grip on my mouth tightened, making me wince in pain.

I watched as they tipped the basket of recently washed clothes over, making me cry out as the clothes that I nearly grew a hunchback over while washing, fell on the floor.

My heart shattered as I watched them stomp all over them, their dirty feet staining the whites especially. I heard her sadistic laughter as they trampled upon them, singing curses onto my name while they hurt me.

When Eleanor was done, she ordered Leanora to let me go. She replaced Leanora in front of me and flicked my forehead with her fingers, "this is just a tip of the iceberg, Soraya. Next time you ignore us, thank your stars if you still have a tooth left in your mouth." She kicked my stomach, making me double over before strutting out, her minions following behind her.

Once they were gone, I let the tears fall. I didn't fight back and I never did because fighting back would always cause me more pain. The least I could do was silently receive the angry cursed and bullying while praying to not get beaten. The bruises always left ugly scars behind.

I quietly picked myself up from the floor, dusting my clothes while trying to muffle the groans of pain. My back was still aching but I couldn't care about it because I had the redo the laundry. My heart bleed when I recalled all those hours I spent washing them.

I gently began picking them up the floor, the tears intensifying as I saw how dirty they had become. I piled them into my basket and sighed, hating that I was going to have to start over.

You see, I was ranked amongst the lowest Omegas and that became a breeding ground for hatred and maltreatment. I was now everyone's servent, even to the serving the servants that worked for the Alpha.

I had just turned twenty and was yet to meet my wolf nor transform. Some even went as far as perceiving me to be a no-wolf Omega. But I wasn't weak per say, I was originally the daughter of the Pack's Beta, Richmond Wilthon and my life wasn't always this hellish.

Everything turned sour when my dad betrayed the pack. Till today I never really understood why he did that but I did know it cost me everything because the Luna has lost her life trying to save mine and it was something that I had to live with for the past eight years of my life. I was sentenced to a life of slavery, forced to serve everyone till I successfully achieved my transformation, according to the alpha, it was the only way for me to earn my redemption.

After I had successfully finished washing the big pile of clothes again, I put the peg on the last piece of clothing I had to hang on the ropes. I cracked my back, rubbing my sore shoulder with a small moan.

I needed to head back to my cell, the head maid would be taking a headcount soon and I couldn't afford to miss it. I'd be risking tomorrow's food if I arrived even a second later. I dropped my basket by the corner of the laundry room and hurried along.

I was heading back to my cell when I collided with a hard chest that sent me stumbling backwards. I looked up to find Ryder glaring at me with sweat clinging to his body and my first guess was that he was coming from training, judging by his outfit and appearance.

I immediately lowered my gaze, bracing myself for his abrupt punishment but after a minute of waiting and I felt nothing, I opened my eyes to peek at him from my lashes. His persistent death glare had me trembling.

Ryder was the Alpha's son and future Alpha of our pack and he was very strong, intimidating and handsome. He had soulful blue eyes and jet black hair that always appeared in messy waves. He never really said much but whenever he did, it could either make or mar you.

It was funny how we used to be friends but now we were just strangers merely existing. Our friendship died the moment it was discovered that the Luna had been collateral damage in the web of treachery my father had spun. The cold look of undiluted disgust whenever we happened to cross paths, the hurtful words and actions that always ripped my dignity to shreds and the fact that he had successfully created a deep rooted hatred for me, in the hearts of youths, encouraging them to make my life a living hell.

It was his way of coping with her loss. He needed a source to pour his rage and what better target than the daughter of the man that killed your mother? He had developed a nickname for me, Black mamba. It was his way of viewing me as cold, heartless and unfeeling, putting on par with the highly venomous snake.

"Great way to ruin my evening, witch!" He gritted, shoving my back to the wall, making me cry out as a bone in my shoulder popped.

He gripped my mouth, forcing me to look him in the eye, ignoring the tears that brimmed in them, "I hate you, do you know that?"

I sniffled because the look in his eyes affirmed it. To him, I was the devil. Something he wanted to snuff the life out of but had to withhold himself from doing so.

"I'll never fucking forgive you, Soraya. You should have just died and not her." He spat me and I closed my eyes, feeling the spittle roll down my cheeks, with my tears.

I accepted all his curses and hates since I robbed him of his mother.

He let go of me, "get out of here!"