Only a fool looks Alpha Zavier in the eye when he speaks. You dare not interrupt him and if you’re an omega girl called Aysel, it’s best to hide. I learnt these tricks early in life. I knew not to look up, not to make a sound and to make myself invisible in the crowd of people that filled the banquet hall to celebrate the Feast of the Moon.
But I never did anything right. When asked to take a step to the left, I ended up at the right, whether or not I took a step to the left. Fate worked in reverse for me. If I sowed good, I reaped misfortune.
It was the reason why, while serving with my head down, trying to make myself smaller than my small frame, I tripped. My wine tray went flying from my hand and crashing to the floor, spilling its red content all over the Alpha’s daughter, in the middle of the Alpha’s speech. I raised my head and caught Alpha Zavier’s gaze and at that moment, I broke the three fundamental rules of laying low.
At that moment – when I made eye contact with the Alpha and sealed my fate – Skylar, the Alpha’s daughter, let out a blood-curling scream, as if it took her that ten seconds of silence to process what I’d done. I’d spilt expensive wine on her more expensive, white, floor length dress.
Her hand smacked my head to the right as an apology dropped from my lips. Then to the left, and right again. She kept smacking me as everyone stared with their mouths open at what I had done until the Alpha cleared his throat and called for order.
“That’s enough, Sky.” Alpha Zavier looked at me as he addressed his daughter, his eyes filled with deep hatred and fiery anger. I gulped, cupping my hot cheeks.
“It’s not. This little bitch ruined my dress!” Skylar cried, her sweet soprano voice raising as she hit me for the last time. “Why are you so jealous of me?” She cried yet again, dragging everyone’s attention back to the scene despite the Alpha’s call for order.
“I’m not,” I answered in a whispery voice with my hands shaking.
My eyes stung with the tears I held at bay, blurring the faces around me. I didn’t want to cry now – not now. It would only make my humiliation worse if I broke down here. I told myself I had to wait – I had to wait for them to take me out for my punishment; when the enforcers would give me a good reason to cry but I wasn’t strong. My lips quivered as the tears slid down my face. I blinked rapidly to clear them but they fell faster the more I blinked.
Alpha Zavier signalled something to those behind me as his daughter stumped out, pushing people out of her way as she went. Two men grabbed me from behind, dragging me out of the hall. I looked at the few people who still watched the drama unfold as the Alpha went back to his speech, a muscle twitching at the side of his jaw. Only one person watching me looked at me with anything other than scorn in her eyes as the enforcers dragged me away.
They threw me into the basement, locking the door behind them. The pack house’s basement served as the laundry room for the entire pack, a storeroom for useless junk and my room. I’d carved out a small space for myself and sealed it off after spending years down here. I slept here, had all my possession – a single bag – in this room. The days I had food, I ate here and the days I didn’t; I nursed my hunger in this same room.
I didn’t mind being locked down here but the problem was not knowing how long I’d be trapped and if anyone would remember to bring me food. A few months ago, I spent two weeks locked down here and sometime in the two weeks, my food supply was cut off. I’d starved for a few days but down here, in the cold, damp basement of the pack house, time became relative. I may have starved for one week or one day.
The door handle jiggled as someone tried getting in. The door jammed a lot and needed brute force to open on most days. Skylar came in with her brother and her boyfriend all wearing nasty smirks on their lips. Her brother fiddled with his belt once they closed the door behind them.
“It’s time for you to pay,” Skylar said. She’d taken off her ruined dress to wear black combat shorts and a black long-sleeved keyhole shirt.
Alpha Bethel, the future leader of our pack called pulled me out of bed but he didn’t need to. I knew the drill. I placed my hand on a ruined stool with my back to them.
“Come hold her, Lucien,” Bethel called.
“There’s no need to hold me,” I muttered. My head spun from the blow Bethel dealt me.
“Keep quiet!” Beta Lucien hissed.
“I won’t fight.” The worst part of taking a beating was Lucien holding me down. I’d learnt to endure without trying to run like the other omegas did because when Lucien was involved, it meant paramount pain. He was a choker and gasping for air with a belt lashing down wasn’t pretty.