Escaping Fate

“Rise and shine, Ava!” my father, Alpha James, bellows from the other side of my door.

Before I can react, he’s yanking my door open so forcefully that the handle comes off in his hand, taking a chunk of the wall with it.

He stands in the doorway, his deep green eyes blazing with fury. I lower my gaze in an attempt to avoid his wrath, but I know it’s futile—it always is.

His voice booms, filling the small space between us.

“Why isn’t breakfast ready? The pack is starving, and the warriors are back from their mission. Don’t they deserve a hot meal as a thank you? Or are you too dimwitted to think the omegas will handle it?”

My father is an imposing figure, towering at six foot seven with a muscular build, and a voice that commands attention. He’s not someone you’d want to cross.

Yet, it seems my mere existence is enough to infuriate him. I’ve never understood why.

“I apologize, Alpha,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t aware they had returned. I’ll head to the kitchen now and prepare a feast in their honor.”

I keep my eyes trained on my bare feet, avoiding his lethal stare. I’ve learned the hard way not to meet his gaze when speaking. It’s an invitation for punishment.

“I expect nothing less. I want it ready by seven tonight. I don’t want anyone to see you, and I don’t want to hear a single word about you interacting with anyone in this pack. Do you understand?”

He fixes his gaze on me, waiting for a sign of my understanding. I nod, brushing off my long-sleeved top—it’s covered in dirt and dried blood.

I rise from the floor as soon as I hear his retreating footsteps, surveying the room. If you could even call it that.

It’s barely furnished, with just a pillow and a blanket on the floor and a small box of clothes given to me by the omegas. Three shirts and two pairs of pants.

I don’t own any shoes. Such a luxury is beyond my reach.

As I step out of my room, I can hear the pack members outside, engaged in games and laughter. I catch a few derogatory remarks about me, but it’s nothing new. I’ve been treated this way since I was eight.

My brother spots me descending the stairs, but he quickly averts his gaze, turning to make out with a random she-wolf. I navigate past the group and make my way to the kitchen.

No one is allowed to assist me anymore. The omegas were explicitly warned that aiding me would result in severe punishment or death.

When my sister noticed how well I got along with them and how they cared for me, I was beaten so badly I couldn’t walk. The omegas looked on in horror, as if they expected me to be killed right there.

I lay on the floor, bleeding for hours, until I finally mustered the strength to lift my head. I crawled up the stairs on my stomach, knowing that if I stayed there, I would die.

With every ounce of strength I had, I managed to drag myself into my room and curl up on the floor by the only window I have. It’s cracked and barely lets in any light.

That night, I lay there—shivering, without a blanket, freezing, and bleeding profusely—wondering why my family despised me so much for simply existing.

It took hours for my body to stop the bleeding, given my severe malnutrition.

I stand in the expansive kitchen, taking in the sight.

It’s equipped with everything one could need: four refrigerators, three chest freezers, cabinets stocked with every spice and seasoning imaginable, and a storage closet filled with cooking utensils.

I open the first fridge and gather an armful of fruits and vegetables, placing them on the counter by the sink. As I rinse them, I glance out the kitchen window at the pack members outside.

The sight of the children, running around and playing tag, brings a smile to my face. They’re as free as they can be.

Once I finish washing and prepping the vegetables, I put some in the oven to roast and others in a pot of boiling water.

I begin to slice and season various cuts of pork—each one with a different blend of seasonings to ensure variety in taste.

Lost in my thoughts, I accidentally cut my hand with the knife. I rush to the sink, rinsing the wound under running water while searching for something to stem the bleeding.

I rummage through the drawer under the sink, find a towel, and wrap it tightly around my hand. After cleaning the blood off the counter and floor, I continue preparing the meal.

Three hours later, the cooking is finally done. Carrying the trays of food to the dining hall takes several trips.

I return to the kitchen, gathering an assortment of beverages—from water to homemade herbal teas to moonshine.

Once everything’s ready, I open the hall for everyone to come in. I position myself at the end of the serving table, ready to assist anyone who needs help—usually the kids, who need assistance with drinks or plating their food.

This is the only part of the day when I feel a sense of relief. When everyone is busy eating, no one is pestering me to do things for them. They’re all engrossed in their own world, only requiring me to refill the drink containers.

I’m not permitted to dine with the pack, and I can only eat the leftovers handed to me once I’ve finished all my tasks. It’s usually not much, but I’ve learned to be grateful for whatever I get.

Because there are nights when I don’t get to eat at all.

“I need everyone’s attention!” my father announces, standing at the head of his table. My mom is seated on one side of him and my brother on the other. The room falls silent and all eyes are on him.

“I want to propose a toast to our warriors! They have not only returned safely but have also secured new territory for us!” He lifts a full cup, a broad smile on his face.

Everyone joins in, raising their cups while the young ones cheer and clap.

“We have more reasons to celebrate. My daughter, Crystal, has found her mate, Beta Louis from the Treetop Pack!” He looks around as everyone erupts into cheers and applause.

My mother, Luna Amber, rises to her feet. “They’ll be coming back here tomorrow to consummate their union and solidify their bond. During this time, we’ll be hosting our spring festival. Everyone is invited to partake in the celebrations.”

Tears of pride glisten in her eyes.

My sister is someone the pack treats with the highest regard. She’s extremely pampered and never gets into trouble. When she bullies the other females in the pack, everyone turns a blind eye because she’s the alpha’s daughter.

Crystal hasn’t been trained for luna duties or self-defense—it’s assumed that others will take care of these things for her. She’s never had to cook or clean anything.

She doesn’t even dress herself. She has servants for that. They choose her clothes, prepare her bath, dress her, and do her hair and makeup.

My heart races as I stand by the serving table. Something’s not right. My head starts to spin and my legs feel weak.

But I can’t let them buckle, or the pack will see it as disrespect and punish me for it. I hold my breath, tears welling up in my eyes.

Everyone settles back down to finish their meal. I take a deep breath, plaster on a fake smile, and try not to draw attention to myself.

After what seems like an eternity, the dining hall empties.

My body feels like it’s on fire, and my throat feels as if someone has squeezed it. I’m consumed by pain.

I hurry through the dishes so I can retreat to my room and lie down, but my mother intercepts me as I’m leaving the kitchen.

“I expect the house to be spotless tomorrow,” she says, her eyes devoid of emotion. “Your sister and her mate are expected to arrive in the afternoon. The Treetop’s alpha will be here too.

“Behave yourself. Go to the gardens before dawn to pick fresh flowers for the house.”

I simply nod and bow my way out of the room.

I walk as quickly as I can without attracting attention. Everyone should be asleep by now. I reach my doorway and am reminded of what my father did to it. I walk to the window, strip off my clothes, and take a deep breath.

The moonlight illuminates my naked body, but my long, thick red hair covers my breasts, ending just below them.

I look out at the gardens and see someone looking up at me. We watch each other, both of us puzzled by the sight before us, when I hear footsteps behind me.

“What brings about this view?” a deep voice asks.

I turn to see a man in sweatpants eyeing me with hunger. I try to keep my calm and watch him cautiously. I’ve never seen him before, but his tattoos tell me he’s one of the warriors.

“Oh, you’re the silent type. My favorite—until I have you screaming my name.” His eyes are dark with desire.

He moves closer to me, like a wolf stalking its prey. I know what’s coming, and I can’t stop him. He lays me down on the ground, forcing his lips onto mine, his weight pressing down on my chest as he runs his hand down my stomach.

I fight back the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

“You’re a vision,” he murmurs, his lips tracing a path down my neck. “I promise you, tonight will be unforgettable. You’ll be craving more.”

His hands roam my body, making my stomach churn. He steps back to shed his pants and boxers, revealing his arousal.

He yanks my hair, forcing me to my knees. He gazes down at me, gripping my chin and peering into my tear-filled violet eyes.

“Open up,” he commands.

I can’t. I’m no stranger to physical abuse, but the men usually steer clear of me. There have been exceptions, though. Twice in my childhood, I was violated.

Both times, I couldn’t utter a word about it—I would’ve been punished for lying. Even if my father had believed me, he wouldn’t have cared. He’d have thought I deserved it.

I look up at him, my eyes pleading, but he forces his hand into my mouth, followed by his arousal. His head falls back as he places his hand on the back of my head, thrusting in and out.

He growls deep in his chest, relishing the moment. He glances down at me, quickening his pace, growling with each stroke. Ignoring my sobs, he holds my face against him, only allowing me to gasp for air when he finally releases me.

He shoves me back to the ground and violates me.

After what feels like an eternity, he smirks at me, rubbing my stomach as if he’s accomplished something. “Next time will be easier. Don’t let anyone else touch you until then. You’re mine.”

He stands, pulling his pants back on, leaving me his shirt to cover myself, then exits my room, whistling.

Drained of tears, I toss the shirt aside and curl up against the wall.

I remain in this position for the rest of the night, knees pulled into my chest, chin resting on top of them.

As dawn breaks, I rise slowly and make my way to the bathroom. I catch my reflection in the mirror, the evidence of last night’s ordeal evident on my skin.

His fingerprints mark my arms from where he held me. My breasts bear bite marks, just beginning to scab over. My legs are scratched and red.

My face is flushed, my lips swollen and bruised from his harsh kisses. My eyes are hollow from lack of sleep and crying.

I turn on the shower. The water trickles out, icy cold. I step in, the cold shocking my system, and grab the small bar of soap. I scrub myself, desperate to erase any trace of him.

I hurry out of the shower, pulling on loose pants and an oversized shirt that engulfs me. I pull my hair back into a bun, then do my best to reduce the swelling around my eyes and lighten the dark circles.

Time is not on my side.

Once dressed, I rush to the fields to gather herbs and mushrooms, then bring them in to be cleaned and stored. I return to the fields to pick up any litter.

After the training fields are clean, I head to the garden to pick daisies, baby’s breath, and hydrangeas, then bring them to the pack house kitchen to arrange the flowers.

Once done, I distribute the vases around the entranceway, living room, hallways, and Crystal’s room. In the guest rooms, I place small planters with chrysanthemums and larkspur.

I continue cleaning the pack house while the omegas prepare breakfast. I start by dusting the entrance, then mop the marble floors.

By the time I reach the living room, the pack has started to gather for breakfast.

I fluff the couch cushions and clean underneath them. I move to the fireplace, adding fresh firewood and arranging the photos on the mantel.

As I’m wiping down the tables, I feel hands encircle my waist. Then I catch his scent.

The man from last night. He’s embracing me in front of the entire pack. I hear whispers and see horrified expressions as he pulls me close and kisses me.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he says, grinning at me. I can’t cause a scene by pushing him away, so I endure it for now.

“I hope you slept well. I certainly enjoyed myself,” he whispers in my ear.

My cheeks flush as I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name,” I say as his lips brush against mine.

“Apologies, I’m David, the lead Hunter,” he says, his gaze piercing into mine as if he’s attempting to decipher my thoughts. “I’d like you to join me for breakfast.”

“I’m afraid I can’t—I need to prepare for my sister Crystal’s homecoming. I don’t want to let you down,” I respond, striving to maintain a polite tone.

I sense the weight of everyone’s stares. The lead Hunter wants to share his meal with the alpha’s servant child. Many are murmuring harsh words about me, but I remain unaffected by their whispers, focusing solely on the man before me.

I yearn to distance myself from him, but it’s not an option. His rank is high, and my father would literally murder me for causing a scene on the day of my sister’s return.

“Alright,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’ll seek you out later. After your training. I expect you to assist me in cleaning up.” He pivots and exits the room, and just like that, everyone trails after him towards the dining hall.

I return to my cleaning duties, trying to regain my composure. Once I’ve tidied up the living room, I move on to the bedrooms, cleaning and making beds.

As I’m wrapping up, I hear the pack house fill with excited chatter. My sister must have arrived.

I dust myself off and wipe my face before descending the stairs to join the omegas.

My sister enters, her lengthy brown hair neatly braided and draped over her shoulder.

She stands with confidence, her petite breasts pushed up, revealing ample cleavage. Her waist is slender, and her hips are noticeably wide.

She scans the room for our father, then rushes to him once their eyes connect. I notice David observing me, his expression puzzled.

The beta enters next. He’s attractive, but not breathtaking. He’s fit and tall, with a light caramel complexion, black hair, and brown eyes. He gazes at my sister, his mate, in awe.

Moments later, an incredibly handsome man walks in. He towers over my father, likely standing at six foot ten. His eyes are a deep blue, and his face is perfectly sculpted. Sensing my presence, he scans the room, his eyes filled with confusion.

Suddenly, I feel an arm wrap around me. I don’t need to look to know it’s David. He must have noticed my attention on the alpha and wanted to stake his claim.

The alpha’s jaw tightens and his eyes darken.

I inhale deeply and look at him, puzzled. He steps towards me just as my father begins to speak.

“Alpha Black, we hope it wasn’t an inconvenience for you to join us. We trust the house meets your expectations. We didn’t have much time to prepare, but our omegas have been working tirelessly to ensure your comfort.”

My father extends his hand to Alpha Black, but his gaze is fixed on me.

I take a deep breath, mentally bracing myself for the repercussions. A complaint from an alpha equates to a beating for me.

“I apologize for that. Our men were in the midst of training when they heard of your arrival. I’ll have Ava address it immediately. Ava, come here,” my father commands, his voice seething with anger.

I approach my father, my eyes fixed on the ground. “Yes, Father, I’m sorry I let you down,” I say, tears welling up in my eyes.

Without another word, my father grips my face and forces me to look at him. David watches with a concerned look, and Alpha Black seems at a loss for words.

“David, you’ve taken a liking to her, haven’t you?” my father bellows, his voice echoing off the walls, startling everyone in the room. Even my sister recoils. Alpha Black watches with a scowl.

My wolf seldom communicates with me, so I know I’m in danger, that I’m likely facing death.

My stomach churns at the scene unfolding before me. My brother grins at me, fully aware that I’m too weak to resist.

My sister giggles into her mate’s neck, while he looks at me with desperate eyes. I can see he wants to intervene, but he’s too afraid to make things worse.

I remain quiet, trying to work out my next move. My mate must be allowing this as retribution for David’s actions. But I’m not to blame, I didn’t instigate this. He doesn’t understand me at all.

I lower my head, feeling the weight of the shame that this is my reality.