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Venue à New York pour sauver sa grand-mère, Elena sauve par erreur Draven, le roi de la mafia. Trahie et vendue par sa famille, elle n'a d'autre choix que d'épouser ce homme dangereux pour honorer leur pacte, ignorant qu'il est celui qui lui a sauvé la vie des années auparavant.
The locker reeked of rotting garbage and mold, the stench burning Ethan Voss’s nostrils as he huddled in the corner, his body throbbing with fresh pain. His left arm was sliced open, the word “FREAK” carved deep into his flesh, blood dripping onto the dirty floor. His back felt like it was on fire— Jax Rainer had poured boiling water on him an hour earlier, the skin blistering and peeling off in thin, bloody strips. His ribs ached, probably broken, from the kicks Jax and his goons had delivered to his torso. “Beg,” Jax’s voice echoed from outside the locker, cruel and mocking. “Beg for me to let you out, freak. Beg like the dog you are.” Ethan bit his lip until it bleed, refusing to make a sound. He’d begged before, begged for mercy, begged for them to stop— but it only made them laugh harder, only made the torment worse. This was his life at Blackwood High— every day, a new hell, every hour, a new torment. He was the quiet kid, the scrawny one with no friends, the one no one cared about. Teachers looked the other way. Students filmed the abuse and posted it online for laughs. No one helped. No one cared. And today, he knew, would be worse than usual. Jax had been extra cruel lately, his sadism growing with every passing day. The locker door finally creaked open, and Jax stood there, flanked by his two goons— Tyler, a meathead with a permanent scowl, and Zoe, a cruel cheerleader who loved to watch Ethan suffer. Jax kicked Ethan in the ribs, and Ethan screamed, the pain searing through his body. “I said beg,” Jax snarled, pressing the blade of his pocket knife against Ethan’s throat. The cold metal made Ethan’s skin crawl. “Please,” he whispered, his voice broken. “Please stop.” Jax laughed, a loud, cruel sound. “That’s my boy,” he said, then sliced the knife across Ethan’s cheek, leaving a deep, bleeding gash. “Now, let’s have some real fun.” They dragged Ethan out of the locker, down the empty hallway, and up to the school roof. The wind was cold, biting at his exposed, injured skin. “You know what happens to freaks who don’t know their place?” Jax said, shoving Ethan to the edge of the roof. “They fall.” Ethan looked down, the ground far below, and terror filled his chest. “Please,” he begged again, tears mixing with blood on his face. “I’ll do anything. Just don’t push me.” Jax smiled, a sick, twisted smile. “Anything?” he said. “Eat this.” He spat on the ground, then forced Ethan’s face down into the dirt. “Eat it. Now.” Ethan gagged, but Jax pressed his foot into the back of his head, forcing him to taste the dirt and spit. When he was done, Jax laughed and kicked him in the back. Ethan stumbled, losing his balance, and fell off the roof. As he plummeted, he heard Jax and his goons laughing, their voices fading as he crashed into the bushes below. Everything went black. Ethan woke up three days later in a hospital bed, his body covered in casts and bandages, his face swollen and scarred. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive— broken ribs, a fractured skull, third-degree burns on his back, and countless cuts and bruises. But Ethan didn’t feel lucky. He felt empty, then angry— a rage so intense it burned in his bones, so dark it consumed his soul. He thought about Jax’s laugh, about the pain, about the humiliation, about the way no one cared. And in that moment, Ethan Voss died. In his place was a monster— a creature driven by revenge, a slayer who would stop at nothing to make Jax and his goons pay for every drop of blood they’d spilled. He checked himself out of the hospital that night, ignoring the doctors’ warnings, and returned to Blackwood High— not as the weak, scared kid they’d tormented, but as a force of nature, a storm of blood and rage. His first target was Tyler. Ethan found him behind the school, smoking a cigarette, unaware of the danger. He snuck up behind him, grabbed a metal pipe, and swung it into the back of Tyler’s head. Tyler fell to the ground, unconscious. Ethan dragged him into the school’s abandoned basement, tying him to a chair with barbed wire— the same barbed wire Tyler had once used to whip his arms. When Tyler woke up, screaming, Ethan smiled. “Remember this?” he said, holding up the barbed wire. “You used this on me. Now it’s your turn.” He whipped Tyler’s arms, again and again, until the skin was torn to shreds, blood pouring down his arms and onto the floor. Tyler begged for mercy, just like Ethan had, but Ethan didn’t stop. He took a blowtorch, the same one Jax had used to burn his hand, and held it to Tyler’s face. “Feel that?” he said, as Tyler’s skin bubbled and burned. “That’s what boiling water feels like. That’s what pain feels like.” Tyler’s screams echoed through the basement, but Ethan didn’t care. He kept going, until Tyler was barely alive, his face disfigured, his arms broken and bloodied. Then, he left him there, tied to the chair, to die slowly. It was just the beginning. Next was Zoe. Ethan tracked her down to her cheerleading practice, where she was laughing with her friends, acting like she hadn’t helped torture a kid almost to death. He waited until practice was over, then followed her to the parking lot. He grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth with his hand, and dragged her into his car. Zoe struggled, screaming into his hand, but Ethan was too strong. He drove to an abandoned warehouse, where he tied her to a table, her arms and legs spread wide. “You loved watching me suffer,” Ethan said, his voice cold and empty. “You loved laughing as Jax carved my skin. Now you’ll feel what it’s like to be the one in pain.” He took a pocket knife— Jax’s pocket knife, which he’d stolen from Tyler— and began carving slurs into Zoe’s legs, the same slurs they’d carved into his arms. Zoe screamed, tears streaming down her face, begging for forgiveness. “Forgiveness?” Ethan laughed, a hollow sound. “You didn’t give me forgiveness. Why should I give you any?” He poured acid on her legs, watching as her skin dissolved, the smell of burning flesh filling the warehouse. Zoe’s screams turned to gurgles, and Ethan smiled. He left her there, in agony, to die alone. Now, only Jax remained. Ethan knew Jax would be looking for him— Tyler and Zoe were missing, and Jax was smart enough to know Ethan was behind it. So Ethan waited for him, at the school roof— the same place Jax had pushed him off. Jax showed up, alone, a baseball bat in his hand, his face filled with rage. “You did this,” he snarled, pointing the bat at Ethan. “You killed Tyler and Zoe.” Ethan smiled, stepping forward. “I didn’t kill them,” he said. “I made them suffer. Just like you made me suffer. Just like you made me beg for mercy.” Jax charged at him, swinging the bat, but Ethan dodged, grabbing the bat and snapping it in half. He tackled Jax to the ground, pinning him down. “Remember when you poured boiling water on me?” Ethan said, pulling a thermos from his pocket— filled with boiling water. “Feel this.” He poured it on Jax’s back, and Jax screamed, the same scream Ethan had screamed. Ethan then took the pocket knife and carved “BULLY” into Jax’s chest, deep enough to see bone. “Remember when you carved ‘FREAK’ into my arm?” he said, twisting the knife. “This is payback.” Jax begged, cried, apologized— but Ethan didn’t stop. He broke Jax’s ribs, one by one, listening to the satisfying crack of each bone. He punched Jax’s face until it was unrecognizable, until his teeth were broken and his eyes swollen shut. He dragged Jax to the edge of the roof, just like Jax had done to him. “Beg,” Ethan said, shoving Jax’s face toward the edge. “Beg for me to let you live. Beg like the dog you are.” Jax begged, his voice broken, his body shaking. But Ethan didn’t care. He remembered the way Jax had laughed, the way he’d spit on him, the way he’d pushed him off the roof. He remembered the pain, the humiliation, the loneliness. And with a smile, he pushed Jax off the roof. Jax’s scream faded as he plummeted, just like Ethan’s had. Ethan stood on the roof, looking down at Jax’s broken body, and felt a sense of peace— a cold, empty peace. The rage was gone, replaced by a quiet satisfaction. He’d gotten his revenge. He’d made them pay. The police never found Ethan. He left Blackwood High, left the town, and never looked back. He had scars— physical and emotional— that would never heal, but he didn’t care. He was free. Free from the torment, free from the pain, free from the bullies who had destroyed his life. He knew he was a monster, knew he’d done terrible things, but he didn’t regret it. Because sometimes, cruelty can only be stopped with cruelty. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to make those who hurt you suffer. And sometimes, the sweetest justice is blood-soaked and brutal. Years later, Ethan heard that Blackwood High had banned bullying, that teachers were held accountable, that students who spoke up were listened to. He smiled. Maybe his revenge had meant something. Maybe he’d stopped other kids from enduring what he’d endured. Maybe he’d turned his pain into something that mattered. But he didn’t care about that. He only cared about one thing: he’d survived. He’d fought back. He’d made the bullies pay. And that was enough. He sat in a small apartment, staring at the scars on his arm— the word “FREAK” still visible, a reminder of the pain he’d endured. But now, those scars were a badge of honor. A reminder that he’d been broken, but he’d risen from the ashes. A reminder that he was the bully slayer. That he was the one who had turned the tables, who had made cruelty pay. And if anyone ever tried to hurt him again, he’d be ready. Because once you’ve been to hell and back, once you’ve become a monster, there’s no going back. And Ethan Voss wouldn’t have it any other way. The world had been cruel to him. So he’d been cruel right back. And it felt good. It felt like justice. It felt like freedom. | The locker reeked of rotting garbage and mold, the stench burning Ethan Voss’s nostrils as he huddled in the corner, his body throbbing with fresh pain. His left arm was sliced open, the word “FREAK” carved deep into his flesh, blood dripping onto the dirty floor. His back felt like it was on fire— Jax Rainer had poured boiling water on him an hour earlier, the skin blistering and peeling off in thin, bloody strips. His ribs ached, probably broken, from the kicks Jax and his goons had delivered to his torso. “Beg,” Jax’s voice echoed from outside the locker, cruel and mocking. “Beg for me to let you out, freak. Beg like the dog you are.” Ethan bit his lip until it bleed, refusing to make a sound. He’d begged before, begged for mercy, begged for them to stop— but it only made them laugh harder, only made the torment worse. This was his life at Blackwood High— every day, a new hell, every hour, a new torment. He was the quiet kid, the scrawny one with no friends, the one no one cared about. Teachers looked the other way. Students filmed the abuse and posted it online for laughs. No one helped. No one cared. And today, he knew, would be worse than usual. Jax had been extra cruel lately, his sadism growing with every passing day. The locker door finally creaked open, and Jax stood there, flanked by his two goons— Tyler, a meathead with a permanent scowl, and Zoe, a cruel cheerleader who loved to watch Ethan suffer. Jax kicked Ethan in the ribs, and Ethan screamed, the pain searing through his body. “I said beg,” Jax snarled, pressing the blade of his pocket knife against Ethan’s throat. The cold metal made Ethan’s skin crawl. “Please,” he whispered, his voice broken. “Please stop.” Jax laughed, a loud, cruel sound. “That’s my boy,” he said, then sliced the knife across Ethan’s cheek, leaving a deep, bleeding gash. “Now, let’s have some real fun.” They dragged Ethan out of the locker, down the empty hallway, and up to the school roof. The wind was cold, biting at his exposed, injured skin. “You know what happens to freaks who don’t know their place?” Jax said, shoving Ethan to the edge of the roof. “They fall.” Ethan looked down, the ground far below, and terror filled his chest. “Please,” he begged again, tears mixing with blood on his face. “I’ll do anything. Just don’t push me.” Jax smiled, a sick, twisted smile. “Anything?” he said. “Eat this.” He spat on the ground, then forced Ethan’s face down into the dirt. “Eat it. Now.” Ethan gagged, but Jax pressed his foot into the back of his head, forcing him to taste the dirt and spit. When he was done, Jax laughed and kicked him in the back. Ethan stumbled, losing his balance, and fell off the roof. As he plummeted, he heard Jax and his goons laughing, their voices fading as he crashed into the bushes below. Everything went black. Ethan woke up three days later in a hospital bed, his body covered in casts and bandages, his face swollen and scarred. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive— broken ribs, a fractured skull, third-degree burns on his back, and countless cuts and bruises. But Ethan didn’t feel lucky. He felt empty, then angry— a rage so intense it burned in his bones, so dark it consumed his soul. He thought about Jax’s laugh, about the pain, about the humiliation, about the way no one cared. And in that moment, Ethan Voss died. In his place was a monster— a creature driven by revenge, a slayer who would stop at nothing to make Jax and his goons pay for every drop of blood they’d spilled. He checked himself out of the hospital that night, ignoring the doctors’ warnings, and returned to Blackwood High— not as the weak, scared kid they’d tormented, but as a force of nature, a storm of blood and rage. His first target was Tyler. Ethan found him behind the school, smoking a cigarette, unaware of the danger. He snuck up behind him, grabbed a metal pipe, and swung it into the back of Tyler’s head. Tyler fell to the ground, unconscious. Ethan dragged him into the school’s abandoned basement, tying him to a chair with barbed wire— the same barbed wire Tyler had once used to whip his arms. When Tyler woke up, screaming, Ethan smiled. “Remember this?” he said, holding up the barbed wire. “You used this on me. Now it’s your turn.” He whipped Tyler’s arms, again and again, until the skin was torn to shreds, blood pouring down his arms and onto the floor. Tyler begged for mercy, just like Ethan had, but Ethan didn’t stop. He took a blowtorch, the same one Jax had used to burn his hand, and held it to Tyler’s face. “Feel that?” he said, as Tyler’s skin bubbled and burned. “That’s what boiling water feels like. That’s what pain feels like.” Tyler’s screams echoed through the basement, but Ethan didn’t care. He kept going, until Tyler was barely alive, his face disfigured, his arms broken and bloodied. Then, he left him there, tied to the chair, to die slowly. It was just the beginning. Next was Zoe. Ethan tracked her down to her cheerleading practice, where she was laughing with her friends, acting like she hadn’t helped torture a kid almost to death. He waited until practice was over, then followed her to the parking lot. He grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth with his hand, and dragged her into his car. Zoe struggled, screaming into his hand, but Ethan was too strong. He drove to an abandoned warehouse, where he tied her to a table, her arms and legs spread wide. “You loved watching me suffer,” Ethan said, his voice cold and empty. “You loved laughing as Jax carved my skin. Now you’ll feel what it’s like to be the one in pain.” He took a pocket knife— Jax’s pocket knife, which he’d stolen from Tyler— and began carving slurs into Zoe’s legs, the same slurs they’d carved into his arms. Zoe screamed, tears streaming down her face, begging for forgiveness. “Forgiveness?” Ethan laughed, a hollow sound. “You didn’t give me forgiveness. Why should I give you any?” He poured acid on her legs, watching as her skin dissolved, the smell of burning flesh filling the warehouse. Zoe’s screams turned to gurgles, and Ethan smiled. He left her there, in agony, to die alone. Now, only Jax remained. Ethan knew Jax would be looking for him— Tyler and Zoe were missing, and Jax was smart enough to know Ethan was behind it. So Ethan waited for him, at the school roof— the same place Jax had pushed him off. Jax showed up, alone, a baseball bat in his hand, his face filled with rage. “You did this,” he snarled, pointing the bat at Ethan. “You killed Tyler and Zoe.” Ethan smiled, stepping forward. “I didn’t kill them,” he said. “I made them suffer. Just like you made me suffer. Just like you made me beg for mercy.” Jax charged at him, swinging the bat, but Ethan dodged, grabbing the bat and snapping it in half. He tackled Jax to the ground, pinning him down. “Remember when you poured boiling water on me?” Ethan said, pulling a thermos from his pocket— filled with boiling water. “Feel this.” He poured it on Jax’s back, and Jax screamed, the same scream Ethan had screamed. Ethan then took the pocket knife and carved “BULLY” into Jax’s chest, deep enough to see bone. “Remember when you carved ‘FREAK’ into my arm?” he said, twisting the knife. “This is payback.” Jax begged, cried, apologized— but Ethan didn’t stop. He broke Jax’s ribs, one by one, listening to the satisfying crack of each bone. He punched Jax’s face until it was unrecognizable, until his teeth were broken and his eyes swollen shut. He dragged Jax to the edge of the roof, just like Jax had done to him. “Beg,” Ethan said, shoving Jax’s face toward the edge. “Beg for me to let you live. Beg like the dog you are.” Jax begged, his voice broken, his body shaking. But Ethan didn’t care. He remembered the way Jax had laughed, the way he’d spit on him, the way he’d pushed him off the roof. He remembered the pain, the humiliation, the loneliness. And with a smile, he pushed Jax off the roof. Jax’s scream faded as he plummeted, just like Ethan’s had. Ethan stood on the roof, looking down at Jax’s broken body, and felt a sense of peace— a cold, empty peace. The rage was gone, replaced by a quiet satisfaction. He’d gotten his revenge. He’d made them pay. The police never found Ethan. He left Blackwood High, left the town, and never looked back. He had scars— physical and emotional— that would never heal, but he didn’t care. He was free. Free from the torment, free from the pain, free from the bullies who had destroyed his life. He knew he was a monster, knew he’d done terrible things, but he didn’t regret it. Because sometimes, cruelty can only be stopped with cruelty. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to make those who hurt you suffer. And sometimes, the sweetest justice is blood-soaked and brutal. Years later, Ethan heard that Blackwood High had banned bullying, that teachers were held accountable, that students who spoke up were listened to. He smiled. Maybe his revenge had meant something. Maybe he’d stopped other kids from enduring what he’d endured. Maybe he’d turned his pain into something that mattered. But he didn’t care about that. He only cared about one thing: he’d survived. He’d fought back. He’d made the bullies pay. And that was enough. He sat in a small apartment, staring at the scars on his arm— the word “FREAK” still visible, a reminder of the pain he’d endured. But now, those scars were a badge of honor. A reminder that he’d been broken, but he’d risen from the ashes. A reminder that he was the bully slayer. That he was the one who had turned the tables, who had made cruelty pay. And if anyone ever tried to hurt him again, he’d be ready. Because once you’ve been to hell and back, once you’ve become a monster, there’s no going back. And Ethan Voss wouldn’t have it any other way. The world had been cruel to him. So he’d been cruel right back. And it felt good. It felt like justice. It felt like freedom. | The locker reeked of rotting garbage and mold, the stench burning Ethan Voss’s nostrils as he huddled in the corner, his body throbbing with fresh pain. His left arm was sliced open, the word “FREAK” carved deep into his flesh, blood dripping onto the dirty floor. His back felt like it was on fire— Jax Rainer had poured boiling water on him an hour earlier, the skin blistering and peeling off in thin, bloody strips. His ribs ached, probably broken, from the kicks Jax and his goons had delivered to his torso. “Beg,” Jax’s voice echoed from outside the locker, cruel and mocking. “Beg for me to let you out, freak. Beg like the dog you are.” Ethan bit his lip until it bleed, refusing to make a sound. He’d begged before, begged for mercy, begged for them to stop— but it only made them laugh harder, only made the torment worse. This was his life at Blackwood High— every day, a new hell, every hour, a new torment. He was the quiet kid, the scrawny one with no friends, the one no one cared about. Teachers looked the other way. Students filmed the abuse and posted it online for laughs. No one helped. No one cared. And today, he knew, would be worse than usual. Jax had been extra cruel lately, his sadism growing with every passing day. The locker door finally creaked open, and Jax stood there, flanked by his two goons— Tyler, a meathead with a permanent scowl, and Zoe, a cruel cheerleader who loved to watch Ethan suffer. Jax kicked Ethan in the ribs, and Ethan screamed, the pain searing through his body. “I said beg,” Jax snarled, pressing the blade of his pocket knife against Ethan’s throat. The cold metal made Ethan’s skin crawl. “Please,” he whispered, his voice broken. “Please stop.” Jax laughed, a loud, cruel sound. “That’s my boy,” he said, then sliced the knife across Ethan’s cheek, leaving a deep, bleeding gash. “Now, let’s have some real fun.” They dragged Ethan out of the locker, down the empty hallway, and up to the school roof. The wind was cold, biting at his exposed, injured skin. “You know what happens to freaks who don’t know their place?” Jax said, shoving Ethan to the edge of the roof. “They fall.” Ethan looked down, the ground far below, and terror filled his chest. “Please,” he begged again, tears mixing with blood on his face. “I’ll do anything. Just don’t push me.” Jax smiled, a sick, twisted smile. “Anything?” he said. “Eat this.” He spat on the ground, then forced Ethan’s face down into the dirt. “Eat it. Now.” Ethan gagged, but Jax pressed his foot into the back of his head, forcing him to taste the dirt and spit. When he was done, Jax laughed and kicked him in the back. Ethan stumbled, losing his balance, and fell off the roof. As he plummeted, he heard Jax and his goons laughing, their voices fading as he crashed into the bushes below. Everything went black. Ethan woke up three days later in a hospital bed, his body covered in casts and bandages, his face swollen and scarred. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive— broken ribs, a fractured skull, third-degree burns on his back, and countless cuts and bruises. But Ethan didn’t feel lucky. He felt empty, then angry— a rage so intense it burned in his bones, so dark it consumed his soul. He thought about Jax’s laugh, about the pain, about the humiliation, about the way no one cared. And in that moment, Ethan Voss died. In his place was a monster— a creature driven by revenge, a slayer who would stop at nothing to make Jax and his goons pay for every drop of blood they’d spilled. He checked himself out of the hospital that night, ignoring the doctors’ warnings, and returned to Blackwood High— not as the weak, scared kid they’d tormented, but as a force of nature, a storm of blood and rage. His first target was Tyler. Ethan found him behind the school, smoking a cigarette, unaware of the danger. He snuck up behind him, grabbed a metal pipe, and swung it into the back of Tyler’s head. Tyler fell to the ground, unconscious. Ethan dragged him into the school’s abandoned basement, tying him to a chair with barbed wire— the same barbed wire Tyler had once used to whip his arms. When Tyler woke up, screaming, Ethan smiled. “Remember this?” he said, holding up the barbed wire. “You used this on me. Now it’s your turn.” He whipped Tyler’s arms, again and again, until the skin was torn to shreds, blood pouring down his arms and onto the floor. Tyler begged for mercy, just like Ethan had, but Ethan didn’t stop. He took a blowtorch, the same one Jax had used to burn his hand, and held it to Tyler’s face. “Feel that?” he said, as Tyler’s skin bubbled and burned. “That’s what boiling water feels like. That’s what pain feels like.” Tyler’s screams echoed through the basement, but Ethan didn’t care. He kept going, until Tyler was barely alive, his face disfigured, his arms broken and bloodied. Then, he left him there, tied to the chair, to die slowly. It was just the beginning. Next was Zoe. Ethan tracked her down to her cheerleading practice, where she was laughing with her friends, acting like she hadn’t helped torture a kid almost to death. He waited until practice was over, then followed her to the parking lot. He grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth with his hand, and dragged her into his car. Zoe struggled, screaming into his hand, but Ethan was too strong. He drove to an abandoned warehouse, where he tied her to a table, her arms and legs spread wide. “You loved watching me suffer,” Ethan said, his voice cold and empty. “You loved laughing as Jax carved my skin. Now you’ll feel what it’s like to be the one in pain.” He took a pocket knife— Jax’s pocket knife, which he’d stolen from Tyler— and began carving slurs into Zoe’s legs, the same slurs they’d carved into his arms. Zoe screamed, tears streaming down her face, begging for forgiveness. “Forgiveness?” Ethan laughed, a hollow sound. “You didn’t give me forgiveness. Why should I give you any?” He poured acid on her legs, watching as her skin dissolved, the smell of burning flesh filling the warehouse. Zoe’s screams turned to gurgles, and Ethan smiled. He left her there, in agony, to die alone. Now, only Jax remained. Ethan knew Jax would be looking for him— Tyler and Zoe were missing, and Jax was smart enough to know Ethan was behind it. So Ethan waited for him, at the school roof— the same place Jax had pushed him off. Jax showed up, alone, a baseball bat in his hand, his face filled with rage. “You did this,” he snarled, pointing the bat at Ethan. “You killed Tyler and Zoe.” Ethan smiled, stepping forward. “I didn’t kill them,” he said. “I made them suffer. Just like you made me suffer. Just like you made me beg for mercy.” Jax charged at him, swinging the bat, but Ethan dodged, grabbing the bat and snapping it in half. He tackled Jax to the ground, pinning him down. “Remember when you poured boiling water on me?” Ethan said, pulling a thermos from his pocket— filled with boiling water. “Feel this.” He poured it on Jax’s back, and Jax screamed, the same scream Ethan had screamed. Ethan then took the pocket knife and carved “BULLY” into Jax’s chest, deep enough to see bone. “Remember when you carved ‘FREAK’ into my arm?” he said, twisting the knife. “This is payback.” Jax begged, cried, apologized— but Ethan didn’t stop. He broke Jax’s ribs, one by one, listening to the satisfying crack of each bone. He punched Jax’s face until it was unrecognizable, until his teeth were broken and his eyes swollen shut. He dragged Jax to the edge of the roof, just like Jax had done to him. “Beg,” Ethan said, shoving Jax’s face toward the edge. “Beg for me to let you live. Beg like the dog you are.” Jax begged, his voice broken, his body shaking. But Ethan didn’t care. He remembered the way Jax had laughed, the way he’d spit on him, the way he’d pushed him off the roof. He remembered the pain, the humiliation, the loneliness. And with a smile, he pushed Jax off the roof. Jax’s scream faded as he plummeted, just like Ethan’s had. Ethan stood on the roof, looking down at Jax’s broken body, and felt a sense of peace— a cold, empty peace. The rage was gone, replaced by a quiet satisfaction. He’d gotten his revenge. He’d made them pay. The police never found Ethan. He left Blackwood High, left the town, and never looked back. He had scars— physical and emotional— that would never heal, but he didn’t care. He was free. Free from the torment, free from the pain, free from the bullies who had destroyed his life. He knew he was a monster, knew he’d done terrible things, but he didn’t regret it. Because sometimes, cruelty can only be stopped with cruelty. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to make those who hurt you suffer. And sometimes, the sweetest justice is blood-soaked and brutal. Years later, Ethan heard that Blackwood High had banned bullying, that teachers were held accountable, that students who spoke up were listened to. He smiled. Maybe his revenge had meant something. Maybe he’d stopped other kids from enduring what he’d endured. Maybe he’d turned his pain into something that mattered. But he didn’t care about that. He only cared about one thing: he’d survived. He’d fought back. He’d made the bullies pay. And that was enough. He sat in a small apartment, staring at the scars on his arm— the word “FREAK” still visible, a reminder of the pain he’d endured. But now, those scars were a badge of honor. A reminder that he’d been broken, but he’d risen from the ashes. A reminder that he was the bully slayer. That he was the one who had turned the tables, who had made cruelty pay. And if anyone ever tried to hurt him again, he’d be ready. Because once you’ve been to hell and back, once you’ve become a monster, there’s no going back. And Ethan Voss wouldn’t have it any other way. The world had been cruel to him. So he’d been cruel right back. And it felt good. It felt like justice. It felt like freedom. | The locker reeked of rotting garbage and mold, the stench burning Ethan Voss’s nostrils as he huddled in the corner, his body throbbing with fresh pain. His left arm was sliced open, the word “FREAK” carved deep into his flesh, blood dripping onto the dirty floor. His back felt like it was on fire— Jax Rainer had poured boiling water on him an hour earlier, the skin blistering and peeling off in thin, bloody strips. His ribs ached, probably broken, from the kicks Jax and his goons had delivered to his torso. “Beg,” Jax’s voice echoed from outside the locker, cruel and mocking. “Beg for me to let you out, freak. Beg like the dog you are.” Ethan bit his lip until it bleed, refusing to make a sound. He’d begged before, begged for mercy, begged for them to stop— but it only made them laugh harder, only made the torment worse. This was his life at Blackwood High— every day, a new hell, every hour, a new torment. He was the quiet kid, the scrawny one with no friends, the one no one cared about. Teachers looked the other way. Students filmed the abuse and posted it online for laughs. No one helped. No one cared. And today, he knew, would be worse than usual. Jax had been extra cruel lately, his sadism growing with every passing day. The locker door finally creaked open, and Jax stood there, flanked by his two goons— Tyler, a meathead with a permanent scowl, and Zoe, a cruel cheerleader who loved to watch Ethan suffer. Jax kicked Ethan in the ribs, and Ethan screamed, the pain searing through his body. “I said beg,” Jax snarled, pressing the blade of his pocket knife against Ethan’s throat. The cold metal made Ethan’s skin crawl. “Please,” he whispered, his voice broken. “Please stop.” Jax laughed, a loud, cruel sound. “That’s my boy,” he said, then sliced the knife across Ethan’s cheek, leaving a deep, bleeding gash. “Now, let’s have some real fun.” They dragged Ethan out of the locker, down the empty hallway, and up to the school roof. The wind was cold, biting at his exposed, injured skin. “You know what happens to freaks who don’t know their place?” Jax said, shoving Ethan to the edge of the roof. “They fall.” Ethan looked down, the ground far below, and terror filled his chest. “Please,” he begged again, tears mixing with blood on his face. “I’ll do anything. Just don’t push me.” Jax smiled, a sick, twisted smile. “Anything?” he said. “Eat this.” He spat on the ground, then forced Ethan’s face down into the dirt. “Eat it. Now.” Ethan gagged, but Jax pressed his foot into the back of his head, forcing him to taste the dirt and spit. When he was done, Jax laughed and kicked him in the back. Ethan stumbled, losing his balance, and fell off the roof. As he plummeted, he heard Jax and his goons laughing, their voices fading as he crashed into the bushes below. Everything went black. Ethan woke up three days later in a hospital bed, his body covered in casts and bandages, his face swollen and scarred. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive— broken ribs, a fractured skull, third-degree burns on his back, and countless cuts and bruises. But Ethan didn’t feel lucky. He felt empty, then angry— a rage so intense it burned in his bones, so dark it consumed his soul. He thought about Jax’s laugh, about the pain, about the humiliation, about the way no one cared. And in that moment, Ethan Voss died. In his place was a monster— a creature driven by revenge, a slayer who would stop at nothing to make Jax and his goons pay for every drop of blood they’d spilled. He checked himself out of the hospital that night, ignoring the doctors’ warnings, and returned to Blackwood High— not as the weak, scared kid they’d tormented, but as a force of nature, a storm of blood and rage. His first target was Tyler. Ethan found him behind the school, smoking a cigarette, unaware of the danger. He snuck up behind him, grabbed a metal pipe, and swung it into the back of Tyler’s head. Tyler fell to the ground, unconscious. Ethan dragged him into the school’s abandoned basement, tying him to a chair with barbed wire— the same barbed wire Tyler had once used to whip his arms. When Tyler woke up, screaming, Ethan smiled. “Remember this?” he said, holding up the barbed wire. “You used this on me. Now it’s your turn.” He whipped Tyler’s arms, again and again, until the skin was torn to shreds, blood pouring down his arms and onto the floor. Tyler begged for mercy, just like Ethan had, but Ethan didn’t stop. He took a blowtorch, the same one Jax had used to burn his hand, and held it to Tyler’s face. “Feel that?” he said, as Tyler’s skin bubbled and burned. “That’s what boiling water feels like. That’s what pain feels like.” Tyler’s screams echoed through the basement, but Ethan didn’t care. He kept going, until Tyler was barely alive, his face disfigured, his arms broken and bloodied. Then, he left him there, tied to the chair, to die slowly. It was just the beginning. Next was Zoe. Ethan tracked her down to her cheerleading practice, where she was laughing with her friends, acting like she hadn’t helped torture a kid almost to death. He waited until practice was over, then followed her to the parking lot. He grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth with his hand, and dragged her into his car. Zoe struggled, screaming into his hand, but Ethan was too strong. He drove to an abandoned warehouse, where he tied her to a table, her arms and legs spread wide. “You loved watching me suffer,” Ethan said, his voice cold and empty. “You loved laughing as Jax carved my skin. Now you’ll feel what it’s like to be the one in pain.” He took a pocket knife— Jax’s pocket knife, which he’d stolen from Tyler— and began carving slurs into Zoe’s legs, the same slurs they’d carved into his arms. Zoe screamed, tears streaming down her face, begging for forgiveness. “Forgiveness?” Ethan laughed, a hollow sound. “You didn’t give me forgiveness. Why should I give you any?” He poured acid on her legs, watching as her skin dissolved, the smell of burning flesh filling the warehouse. Zoe’s screams turned to gurgles, and Ethan smiled. He left her there, in agony, to die alone. Now, only Jax remained. Ethan knew Jax would be looking for him— Tyler and Zoe were missing, and Jax was smart enough to know Ethan was behind it. So Ethan waited for him, at the school roof— the same place Jax had pushed him off. Jax showed up, alone, a baseball bat in his hand, his face filled with rage. “You did this,” he snarled, pointing the bat at Ethan. “You killed Tyler and Zoe.” Ethan smiled, stepping forward. “I didn’t kill them,” he said. “I made them suffer. Just like you made me suffer. Just like you made me beg for mercy.” Jax charged at him, swinging the bat, but Ethan dodged, grabbing the bat and snapping it in half. He tackled Jax to the ground, pinning him down. “Remember when you poured boiling water on me?” Ethan said, pulling a thermos from his pocket— filled with boiling water. “Feel this.” He poured it on Jax’s back, and Jax screamed, the same scream Ethan had screamed. Ethan then took the pocket knife and carved “BULLY” into Jax’s chest, deep enough to see bone. “Remember when you carved ‘FREAK’ into my arm?” he said, twisting the knife. “This is payback.” Jax begged, cried, apologized— but Ethan didn’t stop. He broke Jax’s ribs, one by one, listening to the satisfying crack of each bone. He punched Jax’s face until it was unrecognizable, until his teeth were broken and his eyes swollen shut. He dragged Jax to the edge of the roof, just like Jax had done to him. “Beg,” Ethan said, shoving Jax’s face toward the edge. “Beg for me to let you live. Beg like the dog you are.” Jax begged, his voice broken, his body shaking. But Ethan didn’t care. He remembered the way Jax had laughed, the way he’d spit on him, the way he’d pushed him off the roof. He remembered the pain, the humiliation, the loneliness. And with a smile, he pushed Jax off the roof. Jax’s scream faded as he plummeted, just like Ethan’s had. Ethan stood on the roof, looking down at Jax’s broken body, and felt a sense of peace— a cold, empty peace. The rage was gone, replaced by a quiet satisfaction. He’d gotten his revenge. He’d made them pay. The police never found Ethan. He left Blackwood High, left the town, and never looked back. He had scars— physical and emotional— that would never heal, but he didn’t care. He was free. Free from the torment, free from the pain, free from the bullies who had destroyed his life. He knew he was a monster, knew he’d done terrible things, but he didn’t regret it. Because sometimes, cruelty can only be stopped with cruelty. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to make those who hurt you suffer. And sometimes, the sweetest justice is blood-soaked and brutal. Years later, Ethan heard that Blackwood High had banned bullying, that teachers were held accountable, that students who spoke up were listened to. He smiled. Maybe his revenge had meant something. Maybe he’d stopped other kids from enduring what he’d endured. Maybe he’d turned his pain into something that mattered. But he didn’t care about that. He only cared about one thing: he’d survived. He’d fought back. He’d made the bullies pay. And that was enough. He sat in a small apartment, staring at the scars on his arm— the word “FREAK” still visible, a reminder of the pain he’d endured. But now, those scars were a badge of honor. A reminder that he’d been broken, but he’d risen from the ashes. A reminder that he was the bully slayer. That he was the one who had turned the tables, who had made cruelty pay. And if anyone ever tried to hurt him again, he’d be ready. Because once you’ve been to hell and back, once you’ve become a monster, there’s no going back. And Ethan Voss wouldn’t have it any other way. The world had been cruel to him. So he’d been cruel right back. And it felt good. It felt like justice. It felt like freedom.
🔮WATCH MORE👉 🔥Found A Homeless Genius To Save My Company🔥 🔍 He came back for revenge… but nothing is as it seems. Ethan, once a squeegee kid saved by Richard, returns as an aerospace tycoon to avenge his benefactor. Richard’s adopted kids betrayed him, took his company, and thought they’d won—until Ethan showed up. But is Ethan’s only goal revenge? Are there hidden secrets behind the betrayal? Every episode is full of twists, every move is a chess game 🧩. Pay to binge the full drama and uncover the truth behind the revenge and betrayal! #GoodShort
🔮WATCH MORE👉 🔥Found A Homeless Genius To Save My Company🔥 🔍 He came back for revenge… but nothing is as it seems. Ethan, once a squeegee kid saved by Richard, returns as an aerospace tycoon to avenge his benefactor. Richard’s adopted kids betrayed him, took his company, and thought they’d won—until Ethan showed up. But is Ethan’s only goal revenge? Are there hidden secrets behind the betrayal? Every episode is full of twists, every move is a chess game 🧩. Pay to binge the full drama and uncover the truth behind the revenge and betrayal! #GoodShort
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ABANDONED at birth. LOCKED in a tower for 17 years. What happens when the world finally meets the MONSTER hidden inside? What happens when it turns out she's just a girl, and she's ready to find her soulmate... Listen nor for free to the thrilling DARK ROMANCE 'Thorns and Thrones', only on Pocket FM.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
I'm confused. My head is pounding, and I can barely shift my eyes behind my lids because it hurts too damn bad. The smell of mildew and piss quickly reminds me that I am still captive in my 5x5 cage underground. My piss bucket was probably knocked over again. Moaning, I shift to my side and start to open my eyes. Darkness greets me. No lights tonight mean I'm being punished. The beating I took makes me feel like I've been hit by a truck and dragged down a mountain. He shuts the lights off if I don't cry for him. The only thing that brings the warden great pleasure is seeing my tears while he takes what he wants from me, when he wants it. My pain is the only thing that apparently brings him joy. The darkness never bothered me as a wolf shifter, but when my wolf Aramana abandoned me, I lost my night vision and now the once unbothersome darkness now holds all my fears with no warning of their approach. I'm unable to stretch out unless I'm being tied down and I can't use my full shifter healing abilities without my wolf. If I'm not being raped, abused and tortured, I'm daydreaming about all the beautiful ways I can end my suffering. Some would call my longing for death suicidal ideations. I call it freedom. Salvation. The end to all my constant pain. Kidnapped years ago, at 14, I have been held captive long enough to mature as a woman and omega shifter. I don't know how long I've been locked away, but I know every day here is another day too long. "Wakey, wakey." Whispers the warden from somewhere in the dark. How long has he been here hiding, watching? I immediately jump back into the corner of my cell when I feel faint breath on the nape of my neck. "It's a shame you can't see the bumps that lurk in the night, snow." Terrified, I curled up into a ball in the middle of my cell. His breath reeks of cigarettes and booze. "You didn't cry for me. You quit screaming and now you take away my tears? Are you truly that broken little snow?" His mocking laugh echoing in the underground facility I'm kept in. "I told you I would get your voice back. Now, we'll add your tears to the list " he snarls, and I hear the unlocking of my cage door. He immediately reaches in and grabs me by the hair pulling me from my cage naked and dragging my skinned knees across the concrete floor reopening them and causing them to bleed. I don't fight. I gave up lifetimes ago. I grit my teeth refusing to make a sound. I can't remember the last time I spoke. My last words were "Please don't put me in there." He put me in the walk-in freezer naked anyway. I am lifted off the floor and immediately shoved into a wall. Cold and broken like me. Maybe he will choke me this time and go too far, ending my suffering. Maybe he will piss in my rations later and make me eat it. He's quite creative when he's denied his pleasure. "Cry for me you little bitch." He growls I’m sure flashing his fangs and placing his hand around my neck, squeezing the air from me and causing me to urinate down my leg causing him to laugh. "Beg for air and I'll go easy on you. Give me your tears and I will give you a warm meal tonight. Withold them and you starve." He reminds me. I can't remember the last time I had anything warm to eat. My food is always cold and laced when I'm allowed to eat anyway. Laced with what...I'm not sure, but I think it is the main reason I lost Aramana. Maybe this time they put too much in? I would love to find out, but I refuse to give any of these assholes my tears or words. It's all I have left. I'm mute by choice and will remain that way. If I can't talk to my wolf, I don't want to talk at all. They've taken everything from me. This is all I know. My ability to produce tears left and it's not coming back. I'm broken, alone, helpless and a vegetable rotting in a cage. There is nothing else. I am numb. Gasping for air like a fish. Limp against the wall, my vision starts to go black. I see stars in the darkness and it's oddly comforting. I can't remember the last time I saw real ones. I'm dropped to the ground like a limp noodle and immediately kicked in my right rib cage. The air leaves me and excruciating pain sets in. Yep, they’re broken again. Constant pain while breathing is one of his favorite forms of torture and the easiest to inflict. I fall to my left side on the cold, unforgiving concrete. I dare not crawl away. That will always lead to more beatings. I once lost my fingernails when I was grabbed and pulled by my ankles while trying to crawl away, clawing at the floor. I hope if I ever shift again, I have claws because my nails are still growing back in. He licks up the side of my face and the urge to vomit stomach acid is immediate. "Oh, you taste so sweet little Omega. You taste like fear, and it is delicious." He hisses by my ear causing me to flinch. "Your disobedience gets me hard, but your fear makes me want to rut you. You don't have anywhere else to be tonight, you're all mine and I have permission to use you all night as long as you're ready for the healer in the morning. You've got a big day ahead with a high paying alpha looking for an Omega in heat, so we need you looking presentable and that snow white skin ready for new bruises." He laughs the last part like he just heard a great joke. They drug me with some street drug created to put an omega in a false heat. The cramping pain is unbearable, and the hot flashes make you feel like you are being burnt alive. It's only for a day or two, but that's too long. I have no sense or ability to function after receiving the heat injection. Usually tied down, my body betrays me, always ready with slick for an alpha knot, not sated and too drugged to stay coherent. Of course, there are moments of consciousness when I realize I'm filled with alpha knots and foreign objects with fresh wounds and the smell of blood in the air, but it passes quickly. At least, I think it does. He pulls me off the ground and throws me stomach first over my cage. The cold bars bit into my thin, malnourished stomach. He kicks my heels apart with his steel toed boots, pulls my hair back ripping some out, and slams into me without notice. No sounds of a belt or zipper rustling. He was ready for this while I lay unconscious in my cage. Lurking in the dark with his damn dick out. Monster. My cage almost tips over completely with the force of his thrust. Hard and painful. He pulls out and before he can thrust again, the room is violently rocked with an apparent explosion. I'm thrown off the cage from the blast and onto the hard concrete floor. The warden lands next to me groaning with his limbs thrown over my body. He must be ready to shift because I can see his steel wolf eyes in the dark. I right myself holding my ribs and feel around for the entrance of my cage. My ears are ringing, and I smell blood with something filling my left eye no matter how many attempts I make to clear it and it is trickling onto my lip. I see faint light in a cloud of dust on the other side of the room with a shadowy figure shifting through the dust and concrete debris blasting around the area. What the hell was that? The Calm Before The Storm Thane The meeting room is full as my team, and I review tonight's mission and go over the plan with a fine-toothed comb. There's no room for error in this raid. Our informant is positive this underground holding facility currently houses the third in command of the shifter trafficking ring. They travel around, kidnapping shifter girls and women. Some families even agree to sell their daughters to these scumbags if they present as an omega wolf. Omegas are rare gifts made for an Alpha. Unfortunately, the scum of the earth sees them as a meal ticket. A shifter that's disposable after she's used up. There's no telling how long that process takes either. The mating with an Omega is said to be 100 times more pleasurable than mating with a non-omega wolf shifter. They say there's no comparison and that reason is why trafficking rings exist. Omegas become drugs to alphas that they can't get enough of. I wouldn't know personally as I refuse to assist any of my she wolves in the pack through their heats. There are too many complications that could arise from my authority as the Alpha of the Midnight Pack participating in a heat clinic. Luckily, there's enough willing and able-bodied male shifters in the pack to assist she wolves through heats. My need for vengeance on those responsible for this massive, multi city trafficking ring runs far deeper than the fact women and children are going missing. "Team Delta will approach locked and loaded first. They will be providing cover for Team Fang as they shift and tear out the throats of anything in the vicinity of the compound, securing the perimeter allowing Team Alpha to enter the compound." I strategize, moving my pieces along the large map spread out on the table. "I want a sniper in this tree providing team Alpha with cover against any wolves that may get passed the other teams. Our informant stated the first floor is all empty rooms from the recent selling of their victims to make room for new ones." Bastards. The room erupts in growls. "We were too late to stop it, but we can burn the freaking compound to ashes and kill everyone present." I growl, filling steadily with rage. "Team Fang will leave their drop bags in the woods around the perimeter and team Alpha won't shift unless necessary. We don't know what kind of doors or cages we will run into. I've brought extra C-4 just in case." My beta Cyrus explains. He's always looking for an opportunity to blow shit up it seems. "Why would they empty the facility, but keep their third in command there with their lower ranking assholes? They don't need that level of authority to sit and babysit empty rooms awaiting shipments of stolen shifters instead of checking in on other compounds or planning more kidnapping stings. It doesn't make sense." He questions and he's right. Someone that is far up in the scum underbelly of this ring will have a name. Answers. The final piece of the puzzle to find those responsible and end them slowly. We've hacked, we've tracked, we've abused, and we've tortured, but we still have no clue who the leader of this shithole ring is. "No, it doesn't, but I'm sure it will all become crystal once we're in the compound." I state matter of fact. "We will rescue anyone that could potentially be in there and we leave the shit stain alive." I growl. My eyes flash gold, my wolf Ronan pushing close to the surface thirsting for blood and revenge. "We will have one healer with team Delta and one with team Alpha." "Hopefully they won't be necessary." I state. As Alpha of the Midnight Pack of LA Plata, the largest wolf pack currently recorded, I have a duty to keep my pack safe, and I take that seriously. I'd put myself in the path of any bullet or fang for my people. Part of keeping my pack safe is hunting down these trafficking rings, rescuing girls, and reuniting them with their families or integrating them into a pack. It's a long, traumatic process. Most of the girls have been abused for months. Some are lucky enough to get rescued. Others are sold or murdered for sport when they tire of them. The thought makes me want to vomit and murder. In that order. "Let's suit up and load up." I order and we all proceed to leave to the barracks to gear up and load up. The drive to the compound is intense. I've got 40 of my elite shifters with me, but I'm still on edge. I’m careful to keep it in check and push another wave of confidence through the pack bond. No matter how many of these we do, the knowledge that my pack could be injured or worse always haunts me. They signed up for it, but it doesn't mean their lives are worth less just because they volunteered to put it on the line for their pack and others. I've been the pack alpha for six years now. I hadn’t planned on taking over as alpha 22, but my father, the previous Midnight Pack alpha willingly stepped down after what happened to our family. My parents, so overcome with grief, couldn't manage the pack. They couldn't pull themselves together to perform their duties. My parents shut down and gave up. Again, my eyes glow Gold and Ronan pushes towards the barrier, angry and snarling, he's blood thirsty and wants revenge. "No shifting Ronan you have to settle your rage so I can lead. We'll be there soon and then we'll kill them all. We'll torture the answers we need out of the bastard as slowly as we can." I push back against him. "We are a mile out. Team Fang, drop your bags and shift once we stop. Team Delta, surround the perimeter and send the snipers up. Cyrus with me." I push through the mind link and we all quickly fall into position. Team Fang immediately shifts and takes off for the compound. Team Alpha follows on foot. Even without shifting we are fast. We spend a lot of time training in the mountains with thinner air and steep inclines. The years of training there have given us an advantage in making us quicker, with more stamina and strength. Team Delta immediately opens a cover fire for us when we arrive at the compound. We're running. We're firing. Snipers are dropping the enemy continuously one after another. Black wolves of Team Fang are showing no mercy flanking enemies, over taking them and quickly ripping out their throats. Blood sprays everywhere every minute that ticks by. We're slaughtering them. Some of them are shifting and running for the mountains only to meet another sniper and more of our wolves. "Leave none alive and search them once they’re dead." I remind my team as I engage in hand-to-hand combat with my knives. I'm slicing throats one minute and the next I'm kicking, sweeping legs, and sticking my knife through the hearts of these pieces of shit. "I don't think I will ever tire of killing these assholes." Cyrus mind-links while sending a final blade by my ear and into the eye of a shifter coming up behind me, instantly dropping him. "You’re one of my best for a reason. Now let's take that blood lust inside the compound." I link back immediately met with his laughter. "What do you mean by one of? I am THE BEST." Cyrus boasts through the mind-link. "Just get your shifter ass inside." I growl, my patience for him normally thin at best. The rest of Team Alpha quickly pours into the compound shooting at a few shifter guards coming out from random areas of this building. One by one we enter, sweep and clear each room on the main level. The rooms each small with one surgical bed with straps in the middle. The rooms stink of lingering fear, sex and blood. There are blood splatters on the wall, a drain in the middle of the floor and used needles scattered all over. Immediately it registers what these rooms are. They are involuntary heat rooms. Monsters inject these girls, strap them down and take the money of any alpha or beta that wants to experience a shifter heat. "Do you hear that? I swear I heard mumbling." Cyrus mind-links. We fall out of the last room and start down a hallway. Turning the corner we are met with a vault door. "Why the hell would they have a vault here?" I question half mumbling with confusion through the mind-link. "Listen, I think he's inside. We don't know how many are in there, but I only make out one voice. Cyrus, blow the door." That's all he needed to hear to put a huge, dimpled grin on his face. If I didn't know him as my beta and stone-cold killer, I'd think he was a super model. Stepping back and away he quickly places the C4 putty around the door, inserts his wires, backs away and detonates. "Team Fang and Delta, Alpha team will gain entry into a locked underground facility. Guard the perimeter." I instruct. The vault door and surrounding concrete wall blasts away and into the guarded area. Four steps through the nonexistent door and a turn to the right I'm immediately hit with the stench of urine and feces. The smell is overwhelming, but lingering beneath it is a faint hint of lavender mixed with an overwhelming stench of fear. The faint lavender sent immediately focuses Ronan and brings him to attention. I sense one wolf shifter present that reeks of booze, smoke and body odor. I hear groaning and see a flash of silver eyes through the dust and dark, but that's not all I see. Forest Floor Ayla A tall, broad chested man approaches through the dust. He appears taller than the door frame. Cloaked by shadows, I can only see the flicker of his gold eyes, and the outline of his body cast from the light. I can hear the clunk of his boots as he steps into the underground bunker that houses me. I immediately recognize that this man is an Alpha wolf. He's extremely dominant and it's pulsing through the room causing me to involuntarily bow my head and submit my neck from the presence of his energy alone, despite not having Aramana. He smells of earth and pine. Dirt of the forest and beautiful trees. He reminds me of the freedom I once had. The ability to run through the forest, the smells of the earth and the softness of the forest floor between my toes, breeze in my hair and the sun shining on my face or warming my fur as I chased rabbits and played with my siblings. He smells comforting. He smells peaceful. He smells of home. Is he my new warden? My new master to abuse me? Maybe an Alpha rogue taking what he wants? I feel the front of my cage and start to slide backwards when the warden that was sprawled over me springs off of me straight up into the air and towards the new Alpha. He is immediately knocked out by the new Alpha throwing a right hook. I see it coming from the flicker of the stairway light and it was lightning fast. The warden had no chance at defending himself. He hits the concrete hard, a loud cracking sound echoing with a thud as he hits the unforgiving floor, then nothing. Quiet follows. Too quiet. I start breathing hard and loud as I panic and scoot back into my cage. He's killed the warden which should bring me tears of joy, shouts of elation, but instead I'm overcome with extreme anxiety and fear. My mind starts racing thoughts and it’s overwhelming. What if he is worse? What if the other shifters I smell came to hold me down? What if they want to chase and hunt me? I am hyperventilating at this point and becoming nauseated and dizzy. I can't do a false heat right now. I can’t outrun a shifter pack. I can't....I....just.....can't....*."Aramana? Aramana, can you hear me, I need you."* I push into my mind, searching, pleading, hoping to connect, but I’m met with silence. "Sshh sshh ssshhh"...."It's okay. It's okay. It’s okay.... I’m not going to hurt you. We are here to help.... I promise. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, but I always keep my promises. It's going to be okay." The new Alpha whispers to me from the dark in front of my cage. He sounds so calm and comforting. Help. A normal word that should comfort. A word I can't remember the last time it has manifested in my life. Nobody helps me. Nobody says a word about what I endure, what is done to me and nobody comforts. Especially murderous, rage filled, dominant alphas. They make false promises, and they definitely don't care about my comfort. They break you and leave you a shell of yourself each time. I feel a warm, large, calloused hand touch my lower leg and I instantly startle and flinch. The hand returns. Within seconds, I am overcome with the warmest embrace and covered with the softest fleece blanket I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I am cocooned in the middle of a bunch of warm bunnies. I want to melt into this blanket, rub it all over me, and hide away forever. Never interacting with a single shifter ever again. I notice my breathing is slowing and I am starting to feel calmer. The rough hand remains on my leg. "That's it. Slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth slowly. Again....in and out…. good girl. You are doing so good Little Wolf…. such a good girl" He whispers softly, and my body wants to melt from his comforting words of praise, but my mind knows better. A lot Alphas will try to lure you into a false sense of security before they are back handing you across the face and throwing you over a table with an audience cheering him on. Or an alpha turns you loose and gives you a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and rutted by whichever shifter that catches you. A game they used to enjoy playing. One I don't want to partake in anymore. My vision starts to blur as I squint to see in the dark and I realize now that I can hardly open my left eye. I have a strong taste of iron in my mouth, and I realize it's my own blood. I must have busted my lip and I think my head is bleeding. My chest and abdomen burn with fire every time I take a breath. Which is currently a lot. "No, no, no. Where did you go Little Wne? Stay here with me, don’t start to second guess...just...stay calm. We're not the bad guys. We are here to help. I know you are afraid. I don't blame you, but you have to stay calm. You are losing a lot of blood and you're close to unconsciousness." He quickly informs me then shuffles away from the front of my cage. I hear a second set of boots coming towards me and my heart rate kicks up. "Shhshh...no..don't panic. This is a healer. He can take the edge off your pain to help you with transport back to our pack where we will get you medical attention. You...are...safe." He grits out the last part in a low growl from his chest as the thought of me being unsafe difficult for him to handle. A softer warm hand settles on my shin and a sudden wave of warmth travels up from my toes and creeps slowly over my entire body. The most amazing warmth and peace I have ever felt settles in me, setting my veins on fire and I start to feel a slight burning over my forehead and ribs. Not painful, but not pleasant either. The healing force at work in my body. A calloused hand settles on my shoulder through my cage bars. I jump again. The smell of pine invading my senses and creating a comforting presence within me. I don't want comfort. I don't want peace and warmth. It's foreign and full of lies. I can't trust it. I feel the swelling from my eye receding, the pain subsides. My ribs are tender but are no longer radiating excruciating pain with every breath I take. The peace radiating through me brings a slight smile to my face. The feeling itself weird. I can't remember the last time I smiled or enjoyed any healing because healing brings fresh beatings. A quick pinch to the back of my arm causes me to jerk away. An injection. I should’ve known this was coming. They just want a heat and probably get off from pretending to be the hero only to turn into a villain. Maybe they prefer Stockholm syndrome in their captives. Grooming the women to feel safe while being the threat. I start to feel dizzy, and everything starts to sound muffled and warped. My eyes begin to get heavy, rolling into the back of my head. My head begins rolling on my shoulders. I start shaking "no" repeatedly in what feels like slow motion. My head slumps firmly into my cage wall. My eyes closed, too heavy to open and the sounds ending.
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I'm a nephrologist, and last month a patient of mine canceled his dialysis planning consultation. Not because he gave up. Because of something that happened during his follow-up bloodwork that I have never seen in 19 years of practice. I've been treating kidney disease for 19 years. I've seen every stage of CKD, every level of nephron damage, every pattern of decline. I can tell within thirty seconds of looking at someone's labs what trajectory they're on. Last month, I couldn't. A patient came in expecting the worst. His creatinine had been climbing for three years. His eGFR six months ago was 41 — stage 3, borderline stage 4. He was preparing for the conversation about dialysis planning. I pulled up his new results. And I just stopped. His eGFR had climbed from 41 to 68. His creatinine had dropped from 2.1 to 1.2. His BUN — his blood urea nitrogen, the waste product healthy kidneys clear — had normalized for the first time in four years. His urine protein had dropped so significantly his dipstick was almost clean. I looked at him. "What have you been doing?" "Nothing crazy. Just something I read about online." I didn't believe him. "No new medication? No clinical trial? No radical dietary intervention?" "Nothing like that. Just one thing I've been taking for about four months." I pulled up his previous labs and compared them side by side. His kidney function had recovered to a level I'd last seen in his chart three years ago. His filtration markers were moving in a direction I tell every CKD patient is essentially impossible without aggressive pharmaceutical intervention. I sat back. "I'm going to be honest with you. I don't think we need to discuss dialysis planning anymore." He looked confused. "But my kidneys—" "Your kidneys are functioning better than they were three years ago." Long pause. "So what do I do now?" "Keep doing whatever you're doing. Because it's working better than anything I was about to prescribe." He walked out. And I spent the rest of the week wondering what he knew that I didn't. --- Here's what bothers me. I've been in nephrology my entire adult career. I know every treatment, every drug, every intervention that's supposed to work. And I see the same thing in my office every single day. Men and women in their 40s and 50s with declining kidney function. That persistent foam in the toilet every morning that nobody talks about at their appointment. The dull, deep ache on one or both sides of the lower back — not muscle soreness, something heavier — that shows up for no reason and won't leave. The puffiness in the ankles and face that gets worse as the day goes on. And the exhaustion. Completely drained by 2pm no matter how much sleep they got. That crushing fatigue that coffee can't touch. That heaviness in the body that never fully lifts. That's what I see all day long. People who are slowly losing kidney function no matter how many adjustments we make. And I help them. Temporarily. I adjust their ACE inhibitors. Titrate their diuretics. Monitor their blood pressure medications. Then they come back six months later with an eGFR that's dropped another four points. Because medication manages the decline. It doesn't stop what's destroying the nephrons. I've known about the mechanism for years. The oxidative assault. The free radical damage accumulating inside kidney cells faster than the body can neutralize it. I'd never seen someone who had actually figured out how to stop it. Until last month. --- I called him that evening. "I know this is unusual, but I can't stop thinking about your labs. What are you actually taking?" He didn't hesitate. "Something called Clarix Astaxanthin." We talked for forty minutes. He told me he'd spent years trying everything he could find. Drinking three liters of water a day even as his kidneys struggled to drain it. Strict low-protein diet for six months — the kind that makes every meal feel like a punishment. Cranberry supplements. NAC. Nettle leaf tea every morning. His wife had him on the baking soda protocol from a kidney forum. He'd cut sodium down to almost nothing. Walked two miles every morning even when he was so exhausted he wanted to stop halfway. His eGFR kept dropping. 49. 45. 43. 41. He said he was about to accept that dialysis was the next chapter. But four months ago, something changed. He told me he'd stopped researching treatments and started researching the mechanism. Not what to take — why his kidneys were actually failing. And what he found changed everything. --- He learned that kidney disease isn't really a kidney problem. It's an oxidative stress problem happening inside the cells themselves. His nephrons — the million tiny filters inside his kidneys cleaning his blood around the clock — were under constant attack from free radicals. Generated every day by stress, processed food, medications, blood pressure spikes, blood sugar fluctuations. These free radicals penetrate the walls of the nephron cells and destroy them from the inside. The filter walls crack. Protein leaks into the urine — that's the foam. Inflammation kicks in. Kidney tissue swells. Blood flow tightens. Waste backs up because the filters can't clear it fast enough. And here's the part that stopped me. He said: every antioxidant I'd tried was working in my bloodstream. But the damage isn't happening in my bloodstream. It's happening inside the cells. And there's a membrane between your bloodstream and the inside of your nephron cells. Most compounds can't cross it. Vitamin C is water-soluble — it flushes out before it reaches kidney tissue. Vitamin E sits in one layer of the membrane — it can't protect both sides. CoQ10 molecules are too large to penetrate deeply into nephron cells. NAC raises glutathione — but glutathione can't cross the membrane either. Everything he'd tried was standing outside the building while the fire burned inside. "So what does Clarix actually do differently?" I asked. He explained the molecular structure of astaxanthin — and I'll admit, as a nephrologist, I hadn't focused on this compound before. Astaxanthin is polar on both ends and nonpolar in the middle. That unique structure — found in no other antioxidant in nature — allows it to physically embed across the entire cell membrane. Anchored on the outside and the inside simultaneously. It doesn't sit in your bloodstream hoping something diffuses in. It gets through the membrane wall. Into the nephron cell itself. Where it neutralizes free radicals at the actual source of damage. 6,000 times more powerful than Vitamin C at neutralizing free radicals. 550 times stronger than Vitamin E. And it doesn't stop at the membrane. It penetrates into the mitochondria — the energy source keeping your kidney cells alive and filtering. When the mitochondria are shielded, the nephron cell produces energy again. The filter works. Waste clears. Inflammation drops. Blood pressure stabilizes. Your kidneys start doing what they were built to do. "That's what I'd been missing," he said. "I wasn't protecting my nephrons. I was trying to protect them from the outside. The damage was always on the inside." I asked him what made him trust Clarix specifically over any other astaxanthin product. He said three things had to be exactly right — and most products got all three wrong. Source. 95% of astaxanthin on the market is synthetic — manufactured from petrochemicals. Different molecular structure. The body doesn't absorb it the same way, and the cellular penetration doesn't work the same way. Clarix uses 100% ocean-sourced microalgae astaxanthin — the exact natural form used in the clinical research on kidney tissue. Dose. Most brands give you 4–6mg. That's not enough to saturate nephron tissue at therapeutic levels. Clinical research uses 12mg — the threshold where the compound actually reaches inside your kidney cells in meaningful concentrations. Clarix delivers the full 12mg clinical dose. Every softgel. Delivery. Astaxanthin is fat-soluble. A powder capsule, a gummy, a dry tablet — none of them can carry it into your bloodstream. It needs to be suspended in oil inside a lipid-based softgel to cross from your gut into circulation and reach your kidney cells. Wrong source, wrong dose, wrong delivery — and you've spent money on something your body processes and discards before it reaches the problem. Clarix gets all three right. "That's it?" I asked. "One softgel a day with a meal," he said. "That's it." --- I ordered a bag that night. Not for a patient. For myself. I'm 52 and my own kidney markers had been quietly trending in a direction I recognized from my patients' charts. Nothing alarming. My GFR was 74 — above the threshold. But the trajectory wasn't moving the right way. I follow the protocols I give patients. I monitor my sodium. I stay hydrated. I exercise. My numbers were stable. Not improving. Week one: I had more energy past 2pm. Subtle, but real. Week three: the puffiness I'd been attributing to long days started easing. Week five: I woke up actually feeling rested. Week eight: I ran my own labs. My creatinine had dropped. My eGFR had climbed for the first time in two years. A colleague stopped me in the corridor. Said I looked different. Less tired. She was right. My kidneys had regained something I hadn't realized I'd been slowly losing. Not from a new medication. Not from a stricter diet. From finally sending the right compound through the cell membrane wall — to where the damage was actually happening. --- If you have foam in the toilet every morning that won't go away. If you feel that dull, deep ache in your lower back that shows up for no reason. If you're exhausted by 2pm no matter how much sleep you got. If your eGFR keeps dropping despite doing everything your doctor tells you. Your nephrons aren't failing because you haven't tried hard enough. They're failing because oxidative stress is burning them from the inside — and everything you've tried has been standing outside the wall. Here's exactly what makes Clarix Astaxanthin different from everything else in your medicine cabinet. 🔬 Full 12mg clinical dose — the exact threshold used in kidney research where nephron tissue reaches therapeutic saturation. Not the 4–6mg versions that never reach your cells at meaningful levels. 🌊 100% ocean-sourced microalgae astaxanthin — the natural molecular form your body actually absorbs. Not synthetic petrochemical versions with a different structure that your cells process differently. 💧 Oil-based lipid softgel — the only delivery format that carries astaxanthin through your gut lining, into your bloodstream, and through the cell membrane wall to where the fire is actually burning. 🛡️ Mitochondrial penetration — it doesn't just reach the nephron cell. It gets into the mitochondria. Shielding the power source your kidney filters need to survive. ✅ Third-party tested. Non-GMO. No fillers. No artificial additives. Gluten-free. Made in certified US facilities. 40,000+ customers. Rated 4.9 out of 5. I'm a nephrologist. I've spent 19 years helping people manage kidney decline. I prescribe medications that slow the damage. But I can't stop oxidative stress from inside a nephron cell using anything in my prescription pad. That has to come from within. This is what's working for the patient who canceled his dialysis consultation. And for me. Clarix Astaxanthin. 90-day money-back guarantee. Your eGFR stabilizes, your symptoms ease, your energy returns — or every penny comes back. No questions. Link below. https://try.justjennybeauty.com/Clarix-astaxanthin
I'm a nephrologist, and last month a patient of mine canceled his dialysis planning consultation. Not because he gave up. Because of something that happened during his follow-up bloodwork that I have never seen in 19 years of practice. I've been treating kidney disease for 19 years. I've seen every stage of CKD, every level of nephron damage, every pattern of decline. I can tell within thirty seconds of looking at someone's labs what trajectory they're on. Last month, I couldn't. A patient came in expecting the worst. His creatinine had been climbing for three years. His eGFR six months ago was 41 — stage 3, borderline stage 4. He was preparing for the conversation about dialysis planning. I pulled up his new results. And I just stopped. His eGFR had climbed from 41 to 68. His creatinine had dropped from 2.1 to 1.2. His BUN — his blood urea nitrogen, the waste product healthy kidneys clear — had normalized for the first time in four years. His urine protein had dropped so significantly his dipstick was almost clean. I looked at him. "What have you been doing?" "Nothing crazy. Just something I read about online." I didn't believe him. "No new medication? No clinical trial? No radical dietary intervention?" "Nothing like that. Just one thing I've been taking for about four months." I pulled up his previous labs and compared them side by side. His kidney function had recovered to a level I'd last seen in his chart three years ago. His filtration markers were moving in a direction I tell every CKD patient is essentially impossible without aggressive pharmaceutical intervention. I sat back. "I'm going to be honest with you. I don't think we need to discuss dialysis planning anymore." He looked confused. "But my kidneys—" "Your kidneys are functioning better than they were three years ago." Long pause. "So what do I do now?" "Keep doing whatever you're doing. Because it's working better than anything I was about to prescribe." He walked out. And I spent the rest of the week wondering what he knew that I didn't. --- Here's what bothers me. I've been in nephrology my entire adult career. I know every treatment, every drug, every intervention that's supposed to work. And I see the same thing in my office every single day. Men and women in their 40s and 50s with declining kidney function. That persistent foam in the toilet every morning that nobody talks about at their appointment. The dull, deep ache on one or both sides of the lower back — not muscle soreness, something heavier — that shows up for no reason and won't leave. The puffiness in the ankles and face that gets worse as the day goes on. And the exhaustion. Completely drained by 2pm no matter how much sleep they got. That crushing fatigue that coffee can't touch. That heaviness in the body that never fully lifts. That's what I see all day long. People who are slowly losing kidney function no matter how many adjustments we make. And I help them. Temporarily. I adjust their ACE inhibitors. Titrate their diuretics. Monitor their blood pressure medications. Then they come back six months later with an eGFR that's dropped another four points. Because medication manages the decline. It doesn't stop what's destroying the nephrons. I've known about the mechanism for years. The oxidative assault. The free radical damage accumulating inside kidney cells faster than the body can neutralize it. I'd never seen someone who had actually figured out how to stop it. Until last month. --- I called him that evening. "I know this is unusual, but I can't stop thinking about your labs. What are you actually taking?" He didn't hesitate. "Something called Clarix Astaxanthin." We talked for forty minutes. He told me he'd spent years trying everything he could find. Drinking three liters of water a day even as his kidneys struggled to drain it. Strict low-protein diet for six months — the kind that makes every meal feel like a punishment. Cranberry supplements. NAC. Nettle leaf tea every morning. His wife had him on the baking soda protocol from a kidney forum. He'd cut sodium down to almost nothing. Walked two miles every morning even when he was so exhausted he wanted to stop halfway. His eGFR kept dropping. 49. 45. 43. 41. He said he was about to accept that dialysis was the next chapter. But four months ago, something changed. He told me he'd stopped researching treatments and started researching the mechanism. Not what to take — why his kidneys were actually failing. And what he found changed everything. --- He learned that kidney disease isn't really a kidney problem. It's an oxidative stress problem happening inside the cells themselves. His nephrons — the million tiny filters inside his kidneys cleaning his blood around the clock — were under constant attack from free radicals. Generated every day by stress, processed food, medications, blood pressure spikes, blood sugar fluctuations. These free radicals penetrate the walls of the nephron cells and destroy them from the inside. The filter walls crack. Protein leaks into the urine — that's the foam. Inflammation kicks in. Kidney tissue swells. Blood flow tightens. Waste backs up because the filters can't clear it fast enough. And here's the part that stopped me. He said: every antioxidant I'd tried was working in my bloodstream. But the damage isn't happening in my bloodstream. It's happening inside the cells. And there's a membrane between your bloodstream and the inside of your nephron cells. Most compounds can't cross it. Vitamin C is water-soluble — it flushes out before it reaches kidney tissue. Vitamin E sits in one layer of the membrane — it can't protect both sides. CoQ10 molecules are too large to penetrate deeply into nephron cells. NAC raises glutathione — but glutathione can't cross the membrane either. Everything he'd tried was standing outside the building while the fire burned inside. "So what does Clarix actually do differently?" I asked. He explained the molecular structure of astaxanthin — and I'll admit, as a nephrologist, I hadn't focused on this compound before. Astaxanthin is polar on both ends and nonpolar in the middle. That unique structure — found in no other antioxidant in nature — allows it to physically embed across the entire cell membrane. Anchored on the outside and the inside simultaneously. It doesn't sit in your bloodstream hoping something diffuses in. It gets through the membrane wall. Into the nephron cell itself. Where it neutralizes free radicals at the actual source of damage. 6,000 times more powerful than Vitamin C at neutralizing free radicals. 550 times stronger than Vitamin E. And it doesn't stop at the membrane. It penetrates into the mitochondria — the energy source keeping your kidney cells alive and filtering. When the mitochondria are shielded, the nephron cell produces energy again. The filter works. Waste clears. Inflammation drops. Blood pressure stabilizes. Your kidneys start doing what they were built to do. "That's what I'd been missing," he said. "I wasn't protecting my nephrons. I was trying to protect them from the outside. The damage was always on the inside." I asked him what made him trust Clarix specifically over any other astaxanthin product. He said three things had to be exactly right — and most products got all three wrong. Source. 95% of astaxanthin on the market is synthetic — manufactured from petrochemicals. Different molecular structure. The body doesn't absorb it the same way, and the cellular penetration doesn't work the same way. Clarix uses 100% ocean-sourced microalgae astaxanthin — the exact natural form used in the clinical research on kidney tissue. Dose. Most brands give you 4–6mg. That's not enough to saturate nephron tissue at therapeutic levels. Clinical research uses 12mg — the threshold where the compound actually reaches inside your kidney cells in meaningful concentrations. Clarix delivers the full 12mg clinical dose. Every softgel. Delivery. Astaxanthin is fat-soluble. A powder capsule, a gummy, a dry tablet — none of them can carry it into your bloodstream. It needs to be suspended in oil inside a lipid-based softgel to cross from your gut into circulation and reach your kidney cells. Wrong source, wrong dose, wrong delivery — and you've spent money on something your body processes and discards before it reaches the problem. Clarix gets all three right. "That's it?" I asked. "One softgel a day with a meal," he said. "That's it." --- I ordered a bag that night. Not for a patient. For myself. I'm 52 and my own kidney markers had been quietly trending in a direction I recognized from my patients' charts. Nothing alarming. My GFR was 74 — above the threshold. But the trajectory wasn't moving the right way. I follow the protocols I give patients. I monitor my sodium. I stay hydrated. I exercise. My numbers were stable. Not improving. Week one: I had more energy past 2pm. Subtle, but real. Week three: the puffiness I'd been attributing to long days started easing. Week five: I woke up actually feeling rested. Week eight: I ran my own labs. My creatinine had dropped. My eGFR had climbed for the first time in two years. A colleague stopped me in the corridor. Said I looked different. Less tired. She was right. My kidneys had regained something I hadn't realized I'd been slowly losing. Not from a new medication. Not from a stricter diet. From finally sending the right compound through the cell membrane wall — to where the damage was actually happening. --- If you have foam in the toilet every morning that won't go away. If you feel that dull, deep ache in your lower back that shows up for no reason. If you're exhausted by 2pm no matter how much sleep you got. If your eGFR keeps dropping despite doing everything your doctor tells you. Your nephrons aren't failing because you haven't tried hard enough. They're failing because oxidative stress is burning them from the inside — and everything you've tried has been standing outside the wall. Here's exactly what makes Clarix Astaxanthin different from everything else in your medicine cabinet. 🔬 Full 12mg clinical dose — the exact threshold used in kidney research where nephron tissue reaches therapeutic saturation. Not the 4–6mg versions that never reach your cells at meaningful levels. 🌊 100% ocean-sourced microalgae astaxanthin — the natural molecular form your body actually absorbs. Not synthetic petrochemical versions with a different structure that your cells process differently. 💧 Oil-based lipid softgel — the only delivery format that carries astaxanthin through your gut lining, into your bloodstream, and through the cell membrane wall to where the fire is actually burning. 🛡️ Mitochondrial penetration — it doesn't just reach the nephron cell. It gets into the mitochondria. Shielding the power source your kidney filters need to survive. ✅ Third-party tested. Non-GMO. No fillers. No artificial additives. Gluten-free. Made in certified US facilities. 40,000+ customers. Rated 4.9 out of 5. I'm a nephrologist. I've spent 19 years helping people manage kidney decline. I prescribe medications that slow the damage. But I can't stop oxidative stress from inside a nephron cell using anything in my prescription pad. That has to come from within. This is what's working for the patient who canceled his dialysis consultation. And for me. Clarix Astaxanthin. 90-day money-back guarantee. Your eGFR stabilizes, your symptoms ease, your energy returns — or every penny comes back. No questions. Link below. https://try.justjennybeauty.com/Clarix-astaxanthin
I'm a nephrologist, and last month a patient of mine canceled his dialysis planning consultation. Not because he gave up. Because of something that happened during his follow-up bloodwork that I have never seen in 19 years of practice. I've been treating kidney disease for 19 years. I've seen every stage of CKD, every level of nephron damage, every pattern of decline. I can tell within thirty seconds of looking at someone's labs what trajectory they're on. Last month, I couldn't. A patient came in expecting the worst. His creatinine had been climbing for three years. His eGFR six months ago was 41 — stage 3, borderline stage 4. He was preparing for the conversation about dialysis planning. I pulled up his new results. And I just stopped. His eGFR had climbed from 41 to 68. His creatinine had dropped from 2.1 to 1.2. His BUN — his blood urea nitrogen, the waste product healthy kidneys clear — had normalized for the first time in four years. His urine protein had dropped so significantly his dipstick was almost clean. I looked at him. "What have you been doing?" "Nothing crazy. Just something I read about online." I didn't believe him. "No new medication? No clinical trial? No radical dietary intervention?" "Nothing like that. Just one thing I've been taking for about four months." I pulled up his previous labs and compared them side by side. His kidney function had recovered to a level I'd last seen in his chart three years ago. His filtration markers were moving in a direction I tell every CKD patient is essentially impossible without aggressive pharmaceutical intervention. I sat back. "I'm going to be honest with you. I don't think we need to discuss dialysis planning anymore." He looked confused. "But my kidneys—" "Your kidneys are functioning better than they were three years ago." Long pause. "So what do I do now?" "Keep doing whatever you're doing. Because it's working better than anything I was about to prescribe." He walked out. And I spent the rest of the week wondering what he knew that I didn't. --- Here's what bothers me. I've been in nephrology my entire adult career. I know every treatment, every drug, every intervention that's supposed to work. And I see the same thing in my office every single day. Men and women in their 40s and 50s with declining kidney function. That persistent foam in the toilet every morning that nobody talks about at their appointment. The dull, deep ache on one or both sides of the lower back — not muscle soreness, something heavier — that shows up for no reason and won't leave. The puffiness in the ankles and face that gets worse as the day goes on. And the exhaustion. Completely drained by 2pm no matter how much sleep they got. That crushing fatigue that coffee can't touch. That heaviness in the body that never fully lifts. That's what I see all day long. People who are slowly losing kidney function no matter how many adjustments we make. And I help them. Temporarily. I adjust their ACE inhibitors. Titrate their diuretics. Monitor their blood pressure medications. Then they come back six months later with an eGFR that's dropped another four points. Because medication manages the decline. It doesn't stop what's destroying the nephrons. I've known about the mechanism for years. The oxidative assault. The free radical damage accumulating inside kidney cells faster than the body can neutralize it. I'd never seen someone who had actually figured out how to stop it. Until last month. --- I called him that evening. "I know this is unusual, but I can't stop thinking about your labs. What are you actually taking?" He didn't hesitate. "Something called Clarix Astaxanthin." We talked for forty minutes. He told me he'd spent years trying everything he could find. Drinking three liters of water a day even as his kidneys struggled to drain it. Strict low-protein diet for six months — the kind that makes every meal feel like a punishment. Cranberry supplements. NAC. Nettle leaf tea every morning. His wife had him on the baking soda protocol from a kidney forum. He'd cut sodium down to almost nothing. Walked two miles every morning even when he was so exhausted he wanted to stop halfway. His eGFR kept dropping. 49. 45. 43. 41. He said he was about to accept that dialysis was the next chapter. But four months ago, something changed. He told me he'd stopped researching treatments and started researching the mechanism. Not what to take — why his kidneys were actually failing. And what he found changed everything. --- He learned that kidney disease isn't really a kidney problem. It's an oxidative stress problem happening inside the cells themselves. His nephrons — the million tiny filters inside his kidneys cleaning his blood around the clock — were under constant attack from free radicals. Generated every day by stress, processed food, medications, blood pressure spikes, blood sugar fluctuations. These free radicals penetrate the walls of the nephron cells and destroy them from the inside. The filter walls crack. Protein leaks into the urine — that's the foam. Inflammation kicks in. Kidney tissue swells. Blood flow tightens. Waste backs up because the filters can't clear it fast enough. And here's the part that stopped me. He said: every antioxidant I'd tried was working in my bloodstream. But the damage isn't happening in my bloodstream. It's happening inside the cells. And there's a membrane between your bloodstream and the inside of your nephron cells. Most compounds can't cross it. Vitamin C is water-soluble — it flushes out before it reaches kidney tissue. Vitamin E sits in one layer of the membrane — it can't protect both sides. CoQ10 molecules are too large to penetrate deeply into nephron cells. NAC raises glutathione — but glutathione can't cross the membrane either. Everything he'd tried was standing outside the building while the fire burned inside. "So what does Clarix actually do differently?" I asked. He explained the molecular structure of astaxanthin — and I'll admit, as a nephrologist, I hadn't focused on this compound before. Astaxanthin is polar on both ends and nonpolar in the middle. That unique structure — found in no other antioxidant in nature — allows it to physically embed across the entire cell membrane. Anchored on the outside and the inside simultaneously. It doesn't sit in your bloodstream hoping something diffuses in. It gets through the membrane wall. Into the nephron cell itself. Where it neutralizes free radicals at the actual source of damage. 6,000 times more powerful than Vitamin C at neutralizing free radicals. 550 times stronger than Vitamin E. And it doesn't stop at the membrane. It penetrates into the mitochondria — the energy source keeping your kidney cells alive and filtering. When the mitochondria are shielded, the nephron cell produces energy again. The filter works. Waste clears. Inflammation drops. Blood pressure stabilizes. Your kidneys start doing what they were built to do. "That's what I'd been missing," he said. "I wasn't protecting my nephrons. I was trying to protect them from the outside. The damage was always on the inside." I asked him what made him trust Clarix specifically over any other astaxanthin product. He said three things had to be exactly right — and most products got all three wrong. Source. 95% of astaxanthin on the market is synthetic — manufactured from petrochemicals. Different molecular structure. The body doesn't absorb it the same way, and the cellular penetration doesn't work the same way. Clarix uses 100% ocean-sourced microalgae astaxanthin — the exact natural form used in the clinical research on kidney tissue. Dose. Most brands give you 4–6mg. That's not enough to saturate nephron tissue at therapeutic levels. Clinical research uses 12mg — the threshold where the compound actually reaches inside your kidney cells in meaningful concentrations. Clarix delivers the full 12mg clinical dose. Every softgel. Delivery. Astaxanthin is fat-soluble. A powder capsule, a gummy, a dry tablet — none of them can carry it into your bloodstream. It needs to be suspended in oil inside a lipid-based softgel to cross from your gut into circulation and reach your kidney cells. Wrong source, wrong dose, wrong delivery — and you've spent money on something your body processes and discards before it reaches the problem. Clarix gets all three right. "That's it?" I asked. "One softgel a day with a meal," he said. "That's it." --- I ordered a bag that night. Not for a patient. For myself. I'm 52 and my own kidney markers had been quietly trending in a direction I recognized from my patients' charts. Nothing alarming. My GFR was 74 — above the threshold. But the trajectory wasn't moving the right way. I follow the protocols I give patients. I monitor my sodium. I stay hydrated. I exercise. My numbers were stable. Not improving. Week one: I had more energy past 2pm. Subtle, but real. Week three: the puffiness I'd been attributing to long days started easing. Week five: I woke up actually feeling rested. Week eight: I ran my own labs. My creatinine had dropped. My eGFR had climbed for the first time in two years. A colleague stopped me in the corridor. Said I looked different. Less tired. She was right. My kidneys had regained something I hadn't realized I'd been slowly losing. Not from a new medication. Not from a stricter diet. From finally sending the right compound through the cell membrane wall — to where the damage was actually happening. --- If you have foam in the toilet every morning that won't go away. If you feel that dull, deep ache in your lower back that shows up for no reason. 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I was halfway through washing the lunch dishes. Water running. Foam everywhere. My hands already wrinkled and raw from soap. Then— the squealing hit. High-pitched. Shrill. Like nails dragged across my brain. I didn’t even bother looking up. Alpha and Luna’s three precious daughters were at it again. “Oh my Goddess, did you see him?” Jewel shrieked. “He’s so handsome. I hope he’s my mate!” She’d turned eighteen a few months ago. Since then, her entire personality had become one thing: Find. A. Mate. “If I wasn’t already happily mated,” Tracy purred, “I’d be trying to get him alone and have my way with him.” She said it like it was cute. Because in this pack, girls like her could say anything. Girls like me—omegas—didn’t get to say no. I scrubbed harder. Tracy wasn’t even the worst part. Her mate was. Dexter. Future Alpha. His wandering eyes landed on me more times than I cared to count. Like I was something cheap he could reach for whenever he wanted. “Maybe Alpha Josh will turn out to be my mate when I turn eighteen,” the youngest, Emma, chirped. I scoffed quietly and kept washing. They were obsessed with boys. Obsessed with mates. Obsessed with being chosen. I had a mate too. Every wolf did. I just hoped mine came later. Because a mate would ruin me. He would soften me. Distract me. Make me forget why I’m still alive. That’s when my wolf spoke. Rose’s voice slid through my mind, sharp and urgent. “We have to find him.” My fingers froze. Suds slid down my wrist. “Not this again,” I muttered internally. “Why are you so obsessed?” “Because he’s the key.” Key. The word punched a hole straight through my chest. “Key to what?” I snapped back. “And don’t give me another riddle.” Rose paused. Then—finally—she dropped the first real clue she’d ever given me. “If you want to take back what’s ours… we need his pack.” My eyes widened. That was new. “So…” My throat went tight. “He’s an Alpha?” Silence. Rose shut down instantly. Like she hadn’t said anything at all. I wasn’t shocked. I’m supposed to be Queen one day. My mate being anything less than an Alpha would be strange. But the problem wasn’t who he was. The problem was who I was right now. I was an omega in the Opal Sun Pack. A basement girl. A dish-washer. A servant. A wolfless omega—at least that’s what they believed. For ten years. Because when I was eight— I watched my parents get murdered right in front of me. Blood. Screams. Tearing flesh. I didn’t save them. I just survived. Survived so I could take back what was mine. Jackson. My father’s Beta. The man who used to kneel at my father’s feet— and then climbed onto the throne with his hands still stained. Every night since, the same nightmare hunted me. Ten years without real sleep. Ten years of darkness behind my eyes. Ten years of pretending to be small. Mate bonds were the sweetest poison. Rose whimpered softly in my head. She wanted him. Wanted him badly. And part of me wanted it too. A hand at my back. Someone on my side. But I couldn’t afford it. Not yet. First I had to live. First I had to win. “Oh, Betty~” A sugary voice drifted behind me. My spine went rigid. Luna Jenny. I turned immediately and bared my neck. Submission. Humiliation. I hated the posture. Hated the way it trained my body to obey. “Once you’re done with those dishes,” she sang, “go freshen up for dinner service. We have a very important guest tonight, and I want everything perfect.” “Yes, Luna,” I answered in my meek omega voice. Luna Jenny wasn’t cruel. She was beautiful—honey-blonde hair, light brown eyes, a smile like sunlight. But she’d raised her daughters like princesses. And the rest of us like tools. I dried my hands and headed downstairs. Basement level. Omega quarters. We each had our own rooms, but we shared a communal bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror and pulled my long black hair into a sleek ponytail. Ice-blue eyes stared back at me—tired, shadowed, rimmed with dark circles. Ten years. Ten years since I’d had one decent night without the nightmares. I changed into a simple black dress. No jewelry. No sparkle. Being unnoticed was my safest weapon. Then I went back upstairs to help the kitchen. They were cooking everything. The finest china. Dishes fit for royalty. Whoever Alpha Josh was, he mattered enough for them to go all out. “Dinner will start soon, Betty,” Clova told me, handing me a silver tray. “Take the champagne and start serving the guests before they sit.” Clova was head omega. Kind. Twenty years in the packhouse. She’d learned the same lesson we all had: Don’t ask why. I nodded and took the tray. As I approached the dining room door, Rose started to lose it. She jumped around in my head, tail wagging so hard I felt pressure behind my eyes. The excitement was dangerous. I needed her to stop before she blew our cover. Rose had hidden for ten years. Everyone believed I was wolfless. To keep her secret, she suppressed herself. The only time she ever surfaced fully was when we trained alone in the forest. “Rose,” I snapped silently, “what is going on? Settle down before you show.” “I know,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry.” That was all. No explanation. Of course. Rose always kept secrets until she decided it was “time.” I clenched my jaw. “Push it down,” I ordered. “Now.” She forced herself calmer. The excitement still hummed under my skin—hot and restless— but she held it back. I pushed through the door. The dining room glowed warm and bright. Laughter. Glass clinks. Expensive perfume. Beta and Gamma families gathered. The Alpha family stood in a circle, talking like they owned the world. I lifted the tray and put on my practiced smile. “Champagne?” “Champagne?” I moved around the room, careful. No eye contact. No attention. No mistakes. But the closer I got to Alpha Frank— the more Rose jittered. My temples throbbed. I was two seconds from telling her to calm the hell down before she ruined everything. Ten years. Ten years we’d convinced them I was nothing. I refused to let today be the day it all collapsed. I handed Alpha Frank his glass. He took it without looking at me. Then I turned to the man standing on his right. The guest of honor. Alpha Josh. I lifted a glass toward him. “Sir, would you—” I looked up. And the world stopped. Silver eyes. Moonlight-sharp. Rimmed with thick lashes that would make any girl jealous. My heart skipped. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Light stubble, a razor-cut jaw, full lips turned down in confusion—like he was staring at something impossible. He didn’t take the glass. He just… looked at me. And I drowned. Those silver eyes locked onto mine like my life depended on it. Like they were pulling something out of my soul. Rose went wild again. Joy. Hunger. Possession. I felt her clawing at my ribs. I almost lost it. Then someone cleared their throat behind me. A warning. A reminder of who I was supposed to be. I dropped my gaze instantly. My meek omega voice snapped back into place. “Sir… would you like a glass of champagne?” He still didn’t speak. He took the glass. His fingers brushed mine—barely. And a shock of tingles lit up at my fingertips, rushed up my arm, and slid down my spine. I jerked back like I’d been burned. Without another word, I turned and walked fast—too fast—back toward the kitchen. My heart was trying to break out of my chest. I shut the door and pressed my back against it, breathing hard. In. Out. In. I was just starting to calm down— when Rose dropped the bomb. “So,” she purred in my mind, tail practically wagging through my skull. “What did you think of our mate?” JOSH I didn’t want to come to Opal Sun today. Not even a little. But being Head Alpha means you don’t get to stay comfortable. You don’t get to ignore a pack that needs you—especially when their Alpha is about to step down. Alpha Frank isn’t a bad leader. He’s just… scared. Scared of handing his pack to the wrong man. And I can’t blame him. I met Tracy’s mate, Dexter, earlier. The moment I shook his hand, my instincts crawled. Wrong. Greedy. The kind of male who smiles while planning how to take more than he’s owed. Frank doesn’t have sons. So his “only option” is the male who gives me a bad feeling. That alone is enough to make me want to finish this visit fast and leave. And I know what Frank is hoping. He’s hoping the Goddess will be generous. He’s hoping his middle daughter, Jewel, will be my mate. I can feel it in the way he watches me. In the way he keeps nudging her closer. Thankfully, the Goddess has other plans. Because at twenty-five, I still haven’t met the one woman made for me. Storm whimpers in my head at the thought. He hates the empty space where she should be. “Trust me,” I tell him silently. “I want her too.” The formal dining room is full. Alpha family. Beta and Gamma families. Polite laughter. Small talk. Waiting for dinner. I’m pretending to listen to Frank and Beta Terrence tell some story I don’t care about. All I can think is— After dinner, I’ll pull Frank aside. We’ll talk business. I’ll solve what I can. And I’ll go home. That’s the plan. Then it happens. A shiver slides up my spine. Not cold. Presence. Strong enough to make Storm’s head lift inside me. I turn. And my world narrows to one thing. Ice-blue eyes. Stunning. Clear. Lethal. For a second, the room disappears. It’s just her. A girl holding a champagne tray like she’s trying not to exist. Hair the color of night, pulled back tight. Long lashes as dark as her hair. A heart-shaped face. High cheekbones. Full lips. Skin like cream. She isn’t dressed like the others. Simple black dress. Plain heels. Omega. Servant. The kind of girl this room looks through. Except I can’t look through her. I can’t look away. Storm shifts inside me, unsettled. The sound of Alpha Frank clearing his throat snaps the spell. I realize everyone is watching me watching her. As if she is the one who did something wrong. Her voice is soft when she asks, “Sir, would you like a glass of champagne?” I take it. But I don’t just take it. My fingers graze hers. Barely. A brush. And heat sparks across my hand like a live wire. My breath catches hard enough to hurt. She tenses too. Like she felt it. Like her body understood something her mind refused to say. Then she turns on her heel and walks away fast. Too fast. Like she’s running from the thing she just triggered. I stare after her until the door swings closed behind her. Storm’s voice is rough in my mind. Confused. “Josh…” “Is she ours?” I ask him. Storm hesitates. “I don’t know,” he admits, miserable. “I didn’t sense a wolf.” My chest tightens. Wolfless. Omega. An impossible pairing for a Head Alpha. And she looked young—around eighteen. If she hasn’t surfaced by now… She might never. I tell myself to let it go. I tell myself she isn’t mine. But her eyes stay burned behind my eyelids. Every time I blink, I see that ice-blue stare. Frank chuckles awkwardly, eager to smooth the moment. “Sorry about that, Alpha Josh. Betty is one of our more awkward omegas, considering she doesn’t have a wolf.” Betty. A name that doesn’t fit her face. It sounds small. And it makes something in me go still. “Has she never had one,” I ask carefully, “or did something happen to it?” I shouldn’t ask. I know I shouldn’t. Because questions are interest. And interest turns into attention. And attention turns into… complications. But the words are already out. Frank answers like it’s nothing. “As far as we know, she’s never had one. She came here about ten years ago—no parents. Said they were killed in a rogue attack. She had nowhere else to go. We took her in until her wolf surfaced… but it never did. So we let her stay. She’s worked the packhouse ever since.” Ten years. No parents. Rogue attack. Basement life. Service work. A girl with eyes like a queen, living like a shadow. My jaw tightens. I nod once—too neutral. Too controlled. I don’t want anyone to see I care. Because the second they think I care, they’ll start using it. Dinner starts. I force myself through it. Smiles. Polite conversation. Boring food I don’t taste. And Betty doesn’t come back. Not once. No flash of black hair. No ice-blue eyes. Nothing. Storm is restless. So am I. By the time dinner ends, my plan has changed without me agreeing to it. I should meet with Frank tonight. I should finish this and leave. But I can’t leave. Not yet. Not with that girl lodged under my skin like a thorn. So I make an excuse. “Let’s meet tomorrow morning,” I tell Frank. “We’ll need the whole day for discussions.” He looks relieved. Grateful. He offers rooms for me and the warriors I brought. And of course— Jewel is the one who shows us. She walks too close. Talks too softly. She knows what her father wants. “Here is your room, Alpha,” she purrs. “Mine is on the next floor if you need anything.” That tone. I’ve heard it a hundred times. Female ambition disguised as sweetness. Before tonight, maybe I would’ve noticed she was pretty. Strawberry-blonde hair. Green eyes. Curves in all the right places. Tonight, she’s just… noise. “Thank you,” I say flatly. “I’ll retire for the night.” I open my door. I don’t look back. And when she lingers in the hall, I shut the door in her face. Hard. Clear. Final. Because I’m not interested. Not in her. Not in anyone— when all I can see is ice-blue eyes and black hair and a hand that sparked when mine touched it. I toss my duffel onto a chair. The room is plain. Clean. Temporary. It should be easy to sleep here. It isn’t. I shower, hoping hot water will burn the restlessness out of my bones. It doesn’t. I lie down. Storm paces inside me. My mind keeps dragging me back to the dining room door. To the way she ran. To the way her body tensed like she recognized something. I try to force my eyes shut. Minutes pass. An hour. Nothing. Finally I give up. I pull on sweatpants and head downstairs. Outside. Air. The moment I step into the open night, my chest loosens. Rain falls light and steady. The forest smells clean. Alive. I breathe in, deep. Better. Less trapped. Storm pushes forward—restless, demanding. I break into a run toward the treeline. And when I reach it, I strip off my clothes and let Storm take over. Bones shift. Fur ripples. The world expands. We run. Fast. Hard. Rain slicking our coat. Mud under paws. Trees blurring past. Then— a scent cuts through everything. The most incredible thing I’ve ever smelled. Forest after fresh rain. And something sweeter under it. Honey. Warm. Addictive. It hits my bloodstream like poison and medicine at the same time. My mouth floods. Storm growls low in my chest—hungry, possessive, certain. Our paws change direction without thought. Our body chooses. “I think I smell our mate,” Storm says. And my heart, even in a wolf’s chest, slams once— like a door locking. BETTY / ISABELLE Rain hit my skin like cold fingers. It helped me breathe. The forest was unusually quiet—every little creature tucked away from the downpour. No chirps. No rustling. Just water and my pulse. In. Out. The air tasted like wet earth and pine. Each inhale loosened the fist around my chest. Because if I stayed inside that packhouse one more second— I would’ve cracked. The moment Rose said the words—our mate—panic slammed into me like a wall. My lungs tightened. The ceiling felt lower. The hallways felt narrower. And the worst part? He was right there. A room away. Alpha Josh. My mate. The thing I’m not ready for. So I lied. “I’m not feeling well,” I told the other omegas. Then I ran. Out the back. Past the stairs. Past the rules. Past the eyes that always watched. Straight into the rain. Straight into the only place that didn’t feel like a cage. Goddess. Why me? “I’m sorry,” Rose whispered for what had to be the millionth time. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that.” “It’s fine,” I forced out. “I would’ve found out eventually.” I didn’t have the energy to soften it. Normally I would’ve soothed her. Normally I would’ve held her guilt like it was mine. But right now my insides were shaking. I never imagined I’d meet him here. Not while I was trapped in this life. Not while I was still wearing the mask. Because that’s what I am in Opal Sun. A nobody. A wolfless omega. A girl who keeps her head down and her mouth shut. And the only good thing—the only thing—was this: He didn’t recognize me. Not as his mate. Not as anything. He looked at me like I was strange. Like I was… nothing. It should’ve hurt. Instead it felt like relief. Because if he had recognized me— If the bond had snapped tight— I might have lost control right there in front of everyone. And I cannot lose control. Not once. Not now. My life is one long storm. But sitting in the rain makes my thoughts sharpen. Clearer. Colder. It reminds me who I am. And who I’m pretending to be. I’m eighteen. A shifter princess hiding in a random pack like a stain no one wants to notice. I have been hiding my entire life. From the moment Rose and I were born, my parents hid us from the world. No announcement. No celebration. No “heir is born” feast. Only secrecy. Because there were people who would’ve used us the second they knew we existed. And they were right to be afraid. Rose and I were… special. Born under a full moon. In the middle of a rainstorm. The Goddess came to my parents herself. And she named me. The Luna of Rain. The Queen of Storms. No one else had powers like ours. Rain. Sleet. Snow. Lightning. Wind. Beautiful. Deadly. And “deadly” is exactly why we were hidden. Because power is never safe. Power is bait. Ten years ago, I went from a palace to nothing in minutes. One moment: my royal parents alive, training me to rule. The next: blood and screaming and a world ripped open. All because of one traitor with a hungry heart. Jackson. A man who wanted what was never meant to be his. My throne. My kingdom. My mother. My father. They died. And I lived. And the guilt sits in my throat like a stone. I will not stop. I will not “move on.” I will not let their deaths be for nothing. I will take back what was stolen. I will make them proud. That is the point. That is the only point. So where does a mate fit into a life like mine? He doesn’t. He’s a complication. A weakness. A leash. Because Jackson and his rogues won’t stop until I’m gone. And they won’t just come for me. They will come for anyone I love. Anyone I hesitate for. Anyone I would trade my safety to protect. And there is no weakness bigger than a mate. The bond turns you soft in places you can’t afford softness. It makes you care when caring can get you killed. I feel my mind trying to drag me under. Dark thoughts pulling at my ankles. Grief opening its mouth. It would be so easy to sink. So easy to let the cold swallow me whole. But I don’t. I can’t. Not after everything. Not when I’ve already survived ten years of pretending. Rose is quiet now, curled small inside me. Still guilty. Still wanting him. I can feel it. That ache. That longing. But longing doesn’t get us a throne back. Longing doesn’t kill Jackson. Longing doesn’t keep us alive. I lift my face to the rain and let it wash over my lashes. Let it sting. Let it wake me up. Because this is my reality: My mate exists. And he is powerful. And he is close. And if I’m not careful— he won’t just find me. He’ll claim me. And the moment that happens… my life stops being mine. So I breathe. I steady. I harden. I don’t get to fall apart. I don’t get to be a girl who wants. I have to be a queen who takes. And I will. I will keep fighting. No matter what the Goddess threw in my path. No matter who she tied to my soul. I will keep fighting. BETTY / ISABELLE I push myself off the ground. My fingers flick. The rain over the clearing… stops. Silence drops with it. I can’t sit here and drown in my own head. Self-loathing won’t save me. Training will. Anything but thinking about Alpha Josh. “Let’s train, Rose.” Rose hesitates. Cautious. Always cautious when we’re exposed. “Are you sure? You know it takes concentration.” “I’m sure.” I listen first. Head tilted. Breathing slow. No footsteps. No voices. No чуж—no strangers. Just the forest and the steady drip of water off leaves. Then I call her forward. Rose surges up through me like warmth. Bones shift. Fur spills across skin. In a heartbeat I’m on all fours, paws sinking into damp earth. Sapphire-blue. Glowing under moonlight. Our fur catches silver when the moon hits it—like raindrops trapped in it, blessed and cruel at the same time. When we run, that silver turns into something else. A storm. “What do you want to train?” Rose asks, tail flicking. “I’ve been wanting to try summoning a mini tornado.” I huff a laugh through my nose. “Ambitious.” “It’ll take a lot,” she admits. “But we can do it.” We can. We’ve been learning control since I was a child. In the beginning my emotions ruled the sky— I cried, it rained. I panicked, lightning snapped. By five, I could summon rain with a flick instead of a breakdown. Control wasn’t a gift. It was survival. Tonight the moon is high and bright, the clouds thin. A perfect night to pull strength straight from it. I brace. Paws digging in. I focus on wind— and Rose freezes. “I hear someone.” My blood turns cold. Rose lifts her nose. And then it hits me. A scent. So intoxicating it steals my breath. Forest after thunder. Wet earth and crushed pine— and pure male musk underneath. Heavy. Hot. Possessive. My mouth waters. My body leans toward it before I decide to move. I want to run. I want to bury my face in that scent until I forget my own name. Rose panics in my skull. “It’s our mate,” she snaps. “If we can smell him, he can smell us.” My pulse spikes. Too close. Too soon. Rose is already moving us—fast, urgent. “I’m shifting back. You—summon rain. Now. Wash us.” Less than a second later, I’m back on two feet. Hands shaking as I drag my clothes on. The scent is stronger now. Closer. He’s coming. I force the sky to obey. Rain slams down in sheets. Cold and hard, drenching me instantly—soaking my dress, plastering fabric to skin. It should feel miserable. It doesn’t. Rain is my safe place. Rain is the one thing that’s always listened to me. Rose retreats deep, deep inside. Gone. Hidden. Wolfless. A lie that’s kept me alive for ten years. I grit my teeth as water runs down my throat. “I thought you wanted him to know,” I snap inside my head. “You’ve been begging for him for years.” “The time isn’t right,” Rose answers, clipped. Of course. Always on her schedule. “Why can I smell him now,” I hiss, “but not earlier in the dining room?” “I blocked his mate scent,” she says. “So you wouldn’t freak out and run before you even got to look at him.” I roll my eyes, but my heart is hammering. Because she’s right. If I’d smelled him in that room— I would’ve shattered. The rain pounds harder, washing the clearing clean. Washing me clean. Washing her clean. But the scent… That scent still clings to the air like a promise. Then the bushes across from me move. A shape steps out of the dark. A wolf. Massive. Gray—deep charcoal, like storm clouds stacked thick in the sky. He fills the clearing with presence alone. My breath catches. I should look afraid. I don’t. I’m too busy staring at him like my body recognizes him before my mind dares to. He’s huge. Not quite as big as my father’s wolf was—midnight-black, terrifying— but close. And something about him is… inevitable. He turns. Walks back into the trees. For a heartbeat, disappointment pinches my chest. Why is he leaving— Then he returns. Human this time. Sweatpants. No shirt. Rain glosses him like oil. And my brain forgets how to function. Rose’s voice pops up like a wicked little devil from deep inside me. “Damn,” she breathes. “Our mate is hot.” I should scoff. I can’t. Because—fuck—she’s right. He’s carved. Hard muscle in all the right places. An eight-pack that flexes when he moves. Rain drops tracking down his chest, caught in the lines of tattoo ink that runs over his arms and across his torso. The water slides down— over his stomach— and disappears beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Right above that sharp V that makes my mouth go dry. “Holy shit,” I whisper. Not to Rose. To the universe. To the Goddess who thought it was funny to hand me a temptation shaped like a man. His dark hair is shorter on the sides, longer on top, wet and falling forward. It shadows his eyes. Silver eyes. Those same silver eyes. And he’s looking at me now. Not politely. Not casually. Like he’s measuring me. Like he’s already decided I’m interesting. His mouth curves—slow, knowing. A smirk. He caught me staring. And I know—because I can feel it—he’s doing the same thing to me. His gaze drags. Down my soaked dress. The fabric clinging to my ribs. My waist. My thighs. Rain makes my clothes a second skin. And his eyes don’t look away from it. “Out here alone?” he asks. His voice is deep. Low. It hits my spine like a touch. “Don’t you know the forest can be dangerous at night?” The words sound like a warning. The tone sounds like a claim. I lift my chin and give him a smile I don’t fully feel. “Don’t worry,” I say. “I can take care of myself.” His smirk deepens. “Is that right?” He takes a few slow steps closer. Not rushed. Not aggressive. Worse. Controlled. Like he knows I’ll stay still and let him close the distance. I force my hands to my hips. Cock my hip out like I’m not one breath away from losing my mind. “Well,” I say lightly, “I could… until the big bad wolf showed up.” I let my gaze flick down his body once, openly this time. If he’s going to stare, I will too. Then I tilt my head. “The real question is—what are you doing out here?” His eyes flash. For a split second, they glow—silver turning brighter. His wolf is right there under his skin. Watching. Listening. Owning. “I smelled something,” he says. His voice drops even lower. “It pulled me out here.” He looks around the clearing. Sharp. Searching. “And then…” His gaze snaps back to me. “…it disappeared.” A chill runs through me despite the rain. He smelled Rose. He smelled us. He smelled the bond before I washed it away. And the way he’s looking at me now— he doesn’t believe it simply “disappeared.” He believes it’s hiding. My throat tightens. Any normal girl would blurt it out. I’m your mate. Any normal girl would crave the relief of saying it. But my life isn’t normal. My life is a trap with teeth. Jackson and his rogues are still out there. Still hunting. Still waiting for one mistake. And a mate is the biggest weakness a girl like me can have. A bond is a leash someone else can grab. A mate is a target painted in blood. So I keep my face smooth. Keep my smile lazy. Keep my voice teasing. “Maybe you just imagined it,” I say. His eyes narrow slightly. Not amused. Interested. Predatory. “Maybe,” he murmurs. Another step. Closer. Rain sliding down his jaw. Down his throat. He stops just far enough away that he isn’t touching me— but close enough I can feel his heat through the cold air. Close enough that my body leans forward like it wants the contact. The bond tugs. A slow, aching pull right behind my ribs. He inhales. Once. Deep. Like he’s tasting me. Like he’s committing my scent to memory. And my stomach flips, because I realize— I might have washed away Rose. But I can’t wash away me. Not completely. Not from him. His gaze locks on mine. Silver on ice-blue. His smirk fades into something darker. Quieter. Dangerous. “You’re not from Opal Sun,” he says softly. Not a question. A statement. My pulse stutters. I force a laugh. “And what makes you think that?” His eyes drop to my throat. To the place a mark would go. Then back up. “Because you’re standing in my forest in the rain,” he says, voice like velvet over steel. “And you’re not afraid.” My skin prickles. I should deny harder. I should back away. I don’t. I tell myself I’m only here for a moment. That he’ll leave tomorrow after his meeting with Frank. That fate will put distance between us again. That I can have a little fun and then disappear. That’s what I tell myself. But Storms don’t ask permission before they hit. And neither do mates. I lift my chin and hold his stare. “Maybe I just like the rain,” I say. His mouth twitches—almost a smile. Almost. Then his eyes sharpen again. And the way he looks at me makes my body ache in a way that feels brand new and far too old at the same time. He leans in just slightly. Not touching. Not yet. But close enough that his words brush my lips like a threat. “You’re hiding something,” he murmurs. My breath catches. Rain pounds around us. My soaked dress clings tighter. And my wolf—buried deep—shifts once in panic. Because I feel it. The bond pulling. The truth pushing up. And the terrifying part is— I’m not sure I’m the one in control anymore. BETTY / ISABELLE I should’ve run. The moment I realized he’d followed the scent into the forest, I should’ve vanished into the rain and never looked back. But the bond doesn’t care what I should do. It pulls. It aches. It drags my attention to him like a hook in my ribs. I can still taste his scent on the back of my tongue—storm-wet earth and male heat. And the worst part? It’s gone for him. Rose washed it away. So now he’s here with questions. And I’m here with a secret that could get us killed. He stands in front of me like the night made him. Head Alpha. All muscle and dominance and silver eyes that don’t blink enough. Rain beads on his bare chest and slides down the ink on his skin. It drips from his hair. From his jaw. From the lines of his body I should not be staring at. I am staring anyway. Because my body is a traitor. Because he’s mine—even if I refuse to say it out loud. “Storm,” I hear him think it more than say it. “Could she be hiding her wolf?” Rose answers from deep inside me like she’s biting her own tongue. Impossible. Good. Let him believe that. Let him believe I’m just Betty. Just an awkward, wolfless omega in a black dress. Just a girl the pack looks through. I can wear that lie. I’ve worn worse. He takes a slow step closer. Not rushed. Controlled. Predatory in the quiet way that makes you realize you’re being cornered and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Rain makes my dress cling to me. I feel his gaze catch on it. Track it. Drag down my body like a hand. I hate that heat pools low in my stomach. I hate that my nipples tighten from cold and from him. I keep my face blank. I keep my voice light. He doesn’t. His eyes flick over my throat—like he’s picturing where a mark would go. Then he speaks. “Since I told you why I’m out here,” he says, low, “it’s your turn.” Not a request. A turn. A rule. A man used to being obeyed. I lift my chin. Give him a shrug like I don’t feel the pressure in the air. “Training.” One word. A hook. His brows lift, just slightly. “Training.” He repeats it like he doesn’t believe I’m allowed to own that word. Then his mouth hardens. “I wasn’t aware omegas were allowed to train in this pack.” Omega. He says it casually. Like it’s a fact. Like it’s a label I should accept. Something sharp slices through me—fast and familiar. The basement. The bared necks. The eyes that judge. The rules that press you down until you forget you can stand. For one second, sadness flashes over my face before I can stop it. Then I crush it. I replace it with something harder. Defiant. “They aren’t,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to defend myself.” I step into my own space. “I wasn’t kidding. I can take care of myself.” His gaze changes. The meek omega from the dining room disappears in his mind. He’s looking at the girl underneath. And it turns him on. I can smell it in the subtle shift of his scent. Approval. Interest. Heat. He cracks his neck slowly, like he’s settling into a fight. “All right,” he says. Then, darker— “Show me.” My heart thuds once. Not fear. Anticipation. I’ve been careful for ten years. Always smaller. Always softer. Always invisible. And now my mate is standing in front of me, telling me to prove myself. I should refuse. I should run. Instead, my mouth curves. Just a little. Like this is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. He doesn’t understand who he’s challenging. He doesn’t understand what I am. Good. Let him underestimate me. I don’t even take a stance. I just stand there. Waiting. Letting him decide to be the first one to cross the line. He moves. Fast. Alpha-fast. A blur in the rain. His fist shoots toward my shoulder—light enough not to injure, quick enough to land. I step aside. Barely. His knuckles cut air. I hear his breath hitch. I let my smile sharpen. “Is that the best you’ve got, Alpha?” Mischief flashes in his eyes. Then it turns into focus. Predator focus. He reaches for me—hands going for my shoulders. I slip away again. Blink-fast. He misses. He tries again. Miss. Again. Miss. His frustration builds in the space between us like thunder. He starts throwing punches, kicks—faster, harder, explainable only by strength. I don’t hit back. Not once. I let him chase. Let him test. Let him think he’s getting closer. Because I’m watching him too. Measuring. Learning. And because part of me likes the way he looks when he’s hungry. Then he finally catches me. A sudden snake of movement. His hand shoots out and closes around my throat. Not crushing. Not enough to block air. Just enough to remind me who has the power here. Just enough to say: Mine. My body goes still. Not because I’m scared. Because the second his skin touches mine— electricity explodes. A rush of tingles slams through my neck, across my collarbones, down my spine. My breath breaks. His breath breaks too. His eyes widen like he felt it—felt it the way I did. For a second, the forest disappears. Rain. Trees. Night. None of it exists. It’s just his hand on my throat. And the bond screaming under my skin. Rose stirs deep inside me, panicked. Don’t— But it’s too late. Storm snarls inside him. I hear it in the way his chest expands, in the way his pupils sharpen. His eyes flash brighter silver. And then— the scent hits me. His arousal. Raw. Male. Immediate. It rolls off him like heat. And my own body answers it before my brain can. A deep ache blooms low in my belly. My thighs tense. My nipples harden painfully under wet fabric. I hate myself for it. I love myself for it. Because it means the bond isn’t one-sided. Because it means he’s losing control too. He growls out loud. Not words. A sound. Claiming. His grip tightens a fraction— and I feel the exact moment his restraint snaps. He leans in. Toward my mouth. Toward my lips. Toward the place he can ruin me with one touch. I can see it in his face. He isn’t thinking. He’s taking. I move. Fast. Sharp. I drop my arms, twist, and rip free. If he’d been in his right mind, he’d have held me. But he’s not. He’s distracted by my scent, my taste, my reaction—by the bond pulling him forward like gravity. So he loses me. For one breath. And that breath saves my entire life. I stumble back. Rain slapping my cheeks. Heart hammering. He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear dirty thoughts. Like he’s trying to grab control with both hands. I watch him do it. And for the first time, I realize something that should terrify me. He’s strong. But he’s not immune. Not to me. Not to this. He comes for me again. Hands reaching. I slip away. Again. Again. Again. He’s fast. I’m faster. Lightning. A ghost. And still—he doesn’t stop. Because he’s an Alpha. Because he’s used to winning. Because something in him has already decided I belong to him—even if his mind refuses to say the word mate. We circle, breath fogging in the rain. Then I see it. The smallest mistake. His weight shifts wrong for half a second. And I take it. I dodge his strike. Grab his arm. Twist. Step in. Use his momentum. And throw him over my shoulder. Hard. He hits the ground with a wet thud that shakes the clearing. For a heartbeat, everything is silent. Then I lean over him, rain sliding down my face like tears I don’t have time to cry. My eyes sparkle. Not fear. Joy. “Oops,” I giggle. “Hope I didn’t hurt you.” His stare is shocked. Breath rough. “How the fuck…?” he rasps. I tilt my head. “Don’t feel bad. People always doubt the little wolfless omega.” I let my smile widen. “If it makes you feel better… I knew you weren’t giving me your all.” I offer him my hand. He takes it. And the second our skin meets— the tingles strike again. We both freeze. Because now we both know. This isn’t random. This isn’t nothing. This is something that keeps happening no matter how many rules we hide behind. He stands, still staring at me like I just rewrote the laws of his world. “Well,” he mutters, voice rough, “you had no problem making me eat my words for calling you an omega.” I shrug. Casual. Like I didn’t just flip the Head Alpha like a rag doll. “It’s no big deal,” I say. “That’s what I am.” His jaw tightens. He doesn’t like that answer. Not because it’s untrue. Because it makes me sound small. And he’s starting to realize I’m not. He watches me for a long beat. Then his gaze goes distant—glazed like he’s talking to something inside himself. To Storm. I can tell. Because I’ve done the same thing with Rose. I can’t help myself. I tease him. “Is the big bad alpha wolf scolding you for getting your ass kicked by a little omega?” His laugh bursts out—warm, surprised. “Actually,” he says, “he keeps raving about how amazing you are.” Something bright sparks in my chest. I shouldn’t like that. I do. My mouth opens before my brain catches up. “Can you bring him out?” I ask, honest for half a second. “I never really get to associate with other wolves.” The second the words leave me— I remember where I am. Who I am. What I’m supposed to be. My body reacts before my mind even finishes the thought. My eyes drop. My neck tilts automatically. Submission. Habit. Training. A reflex burned into me by ten years of survival. “I’m sorry, Alpha Josh,” I whisper. “I forgot my manners. I shouldn’t have thrown you, or spoken to you that way. Please forgive me.” The silence that follows is suffocating. Because I can feel his shock. I can feel his anger—not at me. At the fact that I even know how to do that. At the fact that someone taught my body to apologize for existing. I hate myself in that moment. Hate the way my spine knows how to fold. Hate the way the word Alpha still has claws in my throat. Then he moves. One step. Two. Close enough that his heat smothers the cold rain. His finger slides under my chin. Lifts. Forces my face up. Forces my eyes to meet his. The tingles flare again—faint but undeniable. His voice drops. Not gentle. Controlled. Commanding. “Don’t ever look down,” he says. A beat. “Not at me.” My pulse stutters. He holds my chin like I’m something he owns. Like he’s rewriting my instincts by force. “I suggested sparring,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “You were a breath of fresh air tonight.” My throat tightens. He keeps going, each word tightening the invisible collar. “Every day people treat me like Head Alpha.” “Every day they fear me.” “Tonight you didn’t.” His thumb feels like fire against my skin. “So you don’t apologize,” he says. “You don’t submit.” “Not because you’re allowed.” His eyes sharpen. “Because I said so.” My breath leaves me in a shaky exhale. “Understood?” The question isn’t a question. It’s a leash. I swallow hard. “Yes… Alpha Josh.” The way his name tastes on my tongue is dangerous. It makes his eyes darken. It makes his scent spike—hotter, thicker. It makes my body betray me all over again. And I see it happen. I see the exact moment the image hits him— me on my back, rain on skin, his mouth at my throat, my voice breaking on his name. His pupils blow wider. His jaw clenches. He leans in. Slow. Like he’s fighting himself and losing. I can’t help it. My eyes flutter closed. My lips part. My body tilts toward him like it’s been waiting for permission. Rose screams inside me. No— But my skin is already humming. His breath brushes my mouth. His hand tightens under my chin. And Storm’s growl rolls through him so deep it vibrates my bones. He’s about to kiss me. About to claim me. About to ruin everything I’ve built— And I realize, with a cold, sinking certainty: I can hide my wolf. I can hide my crown. But I can’t hide the way my body answers him. Not anymore. Not when he’s this close. Not when the bond is pulling so hard it hurts. And the scariest part is— I don’t know if I can stop myself this time.
I was halfway through washing the lunch dishes. Water running. Foam everywhere. My hands already wrinkled and raw from soap. Then— the squealing hit. High-pitched. Shrill. Like nails dragged across my brain. I didn’t even bother looking up. Alpha and Luna’s three precious daughters were at it again. “Oh my Goddess, did you see him?” Jewel shrieked. “He’s so handsome. I hope he’s my mate!” She’d turned eighteen a few months ago. Since then, her entire personality had become one thing: Find. A. Mate. “If I wasn’t already happily mated,” Tracy purred, “I’d be trying to get him alone and have my way with him.” She said it like it was cute. Because in this pack, girls like her could say anything. Girls like me—omegas—didn’t get to say no. I scrubbed harder. Tracy wasn’t even the worst part. Her mate was. Dexter. Future Alpha. His wandering eyes landed on me more times than I cared to count. Like I was something cheap he could reach for whenever he wanted. “Maybe Alpha Josh will turn out to be my mate when I turn eighteen,” the youngest, Emma, chirped. I scoffed quietly and kept washing. They were obsessed with boys. Obsessed with mates. Obsessed with being chosen. I had a mate too. Every wolf did. I just hoped mine came later. Because a mate would ruin me. He would soften me. Distract me. Make me forget why I’m still alive. That’s when my wolf spoke. Rose’s voice slid through my mind, sharp and urgent. “We have to find him.” My fingers froze. Suds slid down my wrist. “Not this again,” I muttered internally. “Why are you so obsessed?” “Because he’s the key.” Key. The word punched a hole straight through my chest. “Key to what?” I snapped back. “And don’t give me another riddle.” Rose paused. Then—finally—she dropped the first real clue she’d ever given me. “If you want to take back what’s ours… we need his pack.” My eyes widened. That was new. “So…” My throat went tight. “He’s an Alpha?” Silence. Rose shut down instantly. Like she hadn’t said anything at all. I wasn’t shocked. I’m supposed to be Queen one day. My mate being anything less than an Alpha would be strange. But the problem wasn’t who he was. The problem was who I was right now. I was an omega in the Opal Sun Pack. A basement girl. A dish-washer. A servant. A wolfless omega—at least that’s what they believed. For ten years. Because when I was eight— I watched my parents get murdered right in front of me. Blood. Screams. Tearing flesh. I didn’t save them. I just survived. Survived so I could take back what was mine. Jackson. My father’s Beta. The man who used to kneel at my father’s feet— and then climbed onto the throne with his hands still stained. Every night since, the same nightmare hunted me. Ten years without real sleep. Ten years of darkness behind my eyes. Ten years of pretending to be small. Mate bonds were the sweetest poison. Rose whimpered softly in my head. She wanted him. Wanted him badly. And part of me wanted it too. A hand at my back. Someone on my side. But I couldn’t afford it. Not yet. First I had to live. First I had to win. “Oh, Betty~” A sugary voice drifted behind me. My spine went rigid. Luna Jenny. I turned immediately and bared my neck. Submission. Humiliation. I hated the posture. Hated the way it trained my body to obey. “Once you’re done with those dishes,” she sang, “go freshen up for dinner service. We have a very important guest tonight, and I want everything perfect.” “Yes, Luna,” I answered in my meek omega voice. Luna Jenny wasn’t cruel. She was beautiful—honey-blonde hair, light brown eyes, a smile like sunlight. But she’d raised her daughters like princesses. And the rest of us like tools. I dried my hands and headed downstairs. Basement level. Omega quarters. We each had our own rooms, but we shared a communal bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror and pulled my long black hair into a sleek ponytail. Ice-blue eyes stared back at me—tired, shadowed, rimmed with dark circles. Ten years. Ten years since I’d had one decent night without the nightmares. I changed into a simple black dress. No jewelry. No sparkle. Being unnoticed was my safest weapon. Then I went back upstairs to help the kitchen. They were cooking everything. The finest china. Dishes fit for royalty. Whoever Alpha Josh was, he mattered enough for them to go all out. “Dinner will start soon, Betty,” Clova told me, handing me a silver tray. “Take the champagne and start serving the guests before they sit.” Clova was head omega. Kind. Twenty years in the packhouse. She’d learned the same lesson we all had: Don’t ask why. I nodded and took the tray. As I approached the dining room door, Rose started to lose it. She jumped around in my head, tail wagging so hard I felt pressure behind my eyes. The excitement was dangerous. I needed her to stop before she blew our cover. Rose had hidden for ten years. Everyone believed I was wolfless. To keep her secret, she suppressed herself. The only time she ever surfaced fully was when we trained alone in the forest. “Rose,” I snapped silently, “what is going on? Settle down before you show.” “I know,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry.” That was all. No explanation. Of course. Rose always kept secrets until she decided it was “time.” I clenched my jaw. “Push it down,” I ordered. “Now.” She forced herself calmer. The excitement still hummed under my skin—hot and restless— but she held it back. I pushed through the door. The dining room glowed warm and bright. Laughter. Glass clinks. Expensive perfume. Beta and Gamma families gathered. The Alpha family stood in a circle, talking like they owned the world. I lifted the tray and put on my practiced smile. “Champagne?” “Champagne?” I moved around the room, careful. No eye contact. No attention. No mistakes. But the closer I got to Alpha Frank— the more Rose jittered. My temples throbbed. I was two seconds from telling her to calm the hell down before she ruined everything. Ten years. Ten years we’d convinced them I was nothing. I refused to let today be the day it all collapsed. I handed Alpha Frank his glass. He took it without looking at me. Then I turned to the man standing on his right. The guest of honor. Alpha Josh. I lifted a glass toward him. “Sir, would you—” I looked up. And the world stopped. Silver eyes. Moonlight-sharp. Rimmed with thick lashes that would make any girl jealous. My heart skipped. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Light stubble, a razor-cut jaw, full lips turned down in confusion—like he was staring at something impossible. He didn’t take the glass. He just… looked at me. And I drowned. Those silver eyes locked onto mine like my life depended on it. Like they were pulling something out of my soul. Rose went wild again. Joy. Hunger. Possession. I felt her clawing at my ribs. I almost lost it. Then someone cleared their throat behind me. A warning. A reminder of who I was supposed to be. I dropped my gaze instantly. My meek omega voice snapped back into place. “Sir… would you like a glass of champagne?” He still didn’t speak. He took the glass. His fingers brushed mine—barely. And a shock of tingles lit up at my fingertips, rushed up my arm, and slid down my spine. I jerked back like I’d been burned. Without another word, I turned and walked fast—too fast—back toward the kitchen. My heart was trying to break out of my chest. I shut the door and pressed my back against it, breathing hard. In. Out. In. I was just starting to calm down— when Rose dropped the bomb. “So,” she purred in my mind, tail practically wagging through my skull. “What did you think of our mate?” JOSH I didn’t want to come to Opal Sun today. Not even a little. But being Head Alpha means you don’t get to stay comfortable. You don’t get to ignore a pack that needs you—especially when their Alpha is about to step down. Alpha Frank isn’t a bad leader. He’s just… scared. Scared of handing his pack to the wrong man. And I can’t blame him. I met Tracy’s mate, Dexter, earlier. The moment I shook his hand, my instincts crawled. Wrong. Greedy. The kind of male who smiles while planning how to take more than he’s owed. Frank doesn’t have sons. So his “only option” is the male who gives me a bad feeling. That alone is enough to make me want to finish this visit fast and leave. And I know what Frank is hoping. He’s hoping the Goddess will be generous. He’s hoping his middle daughter, Jewel, will be my mate. I can feel it in the way he watches me. In the way he keeps nudging her closer. Thankfully, the Goddess has other plans. Because at twenty-five, I still haven’t met the one woman made for me. Storm whimpers in my head at the thought. He hates the empty space where she should be. “Trust me,” I tell him silently. “I want her too.” The formal dining room is full. Alpha family. Beta and Gamma families. Polite laughter. Small talk. Waiting for dinner. I’m pretending to listen to Frank and Beta Terrence tell some story I don’t care about. All I can think is— After dinner, I’ll pull Frank aside. We’ll talk business. I’ll solve what I can. And I’ll go home. That’s the plan. Then it happens. A shiver slides up my spine. Not cold. Presence. Strong enough to make Storm’s head lift inside me. I turn. And my world narrows to one thing. Ice-blue eyes. Stunning. Clear. Lethal. For a second, the room disappears. It’s just her. A girl holding a champagne tray like she’s trying not to exist. Hair the color of night, pulled back tight. Long lashes as dark as her hair. A heart-shaped face. High cheekbones. Full lips. Skin like cream. She isn’t dressed like the others. Simple black dress. Plain heels. Omega. Servant. The kind of girl this room looks through. Except I can’t look through her. I can’t look away. Storm shifts inside me, unsettled. The sound of Alpha Frank clearing his throat snaps the spell. I realize everyone is watching me watching her. As if she is the one who did something wrong. Her voice is soft when she asks, “Sir, would you like a glass of champagne?” I take it. But I don’t just take it. My fingers graze hers. Barely. A brush. And heat sparks across my hand like a live wire. My breath catches hard enough to hurt. She tenses too. Like she felt it. Like her body understood something her mind refused to say. Then she turns on her heel and walks away fast. Too fast. Like she’s running from the thing she just triggered. I stare after her until the door swings closed behind her. Storm’s voice is rough in my mind. Confused. “Josh…” “Is she ours?” I ask him. Storm hesitates. “I don’t know,” he admits, miserable. “I didn’t sense a wolf.” My chest tightens. Wolfless. Omega. An impossible pairing for a Head Alpha. And she looked young—around eighteen. If she hasn’t surfaced by now… She might never. I tell myself to let it go. I tell myself she isn’t mine. But her eyes stay burned behind my eyelids. Every time I blink, I see that ice-blue stare. Frank chuckles awkwardly, eager to smooth the moment. “Sorry about that, Alpha Josh. Betty is one of our more awkward omegas, considering she doesn’t have a wolf.” Betty. A name that doesn’t fit her face. It sounds small. And it makes something in me go still. “Has she never had one,” I ask carefully, “or did something happen to it?” I shouldn’t ask. I know I shouldn’t. Because questions are interest. And interest turns into attention. And attention turns into… complications. But the words are already out. Frank answers like it’s nothing. “As far as we know, she’s never had one. She came here about ten years ago—no parents. Said they were killed in a rogue attack. She had nowhere else to go. We took her in until her wolf surfaced… but it never did. So we let her stay. She’s worked the packhouse ever since.” Ten years. No parents. Rogue attack. Basement life. Service work. A girl with eyes like a queen, living like a shadow. My jaw tightens. I nod once—too neutral. Too controlled. I don’t want anyone to see I care. Because the second they think I care, they’ll start using it. Dinner starts. I force myself through it. Smiles. Polite conversation. Boring food I don’t taste. And Betty doesn’t come back. Not once. No flash of black hair. No ice-blue eyes. Nothing. Storm is restless. So am I. By the time dinner ends, my plan has changed without me agreeing to it. I should meet with Frank tonight. I should finish this and leave. But I can’t leave. Not yet. Not with that girl lodged under my skin like a thorn. So I make an excuse. “Let’s meet tomorrow morning,” I tell Frank. “We’ll need the whole day for discussions.” He looks relieved. Grateful. He offers rooms for me and the warriors I brought. And of course— Jewel is the one who shows us. She walks too close. Talks too softly. She knows what her father wants. “Here is your room, Alpha,” she purrs. “Mine is on the next floor if you need anything.” That tone. I’ve heard it a hundred times. Female ambition disguised as sweetness. Before tonight, maybe I would’ve noticed she was pretty. Strawberry-blonde hair. Green eyes. Curves in all the right places. Tonight, she’s just… noise. “Thank you,” I say flatly. “I’ll retire for the night.” I open my door. I don’t look back. And when she lingers in the hall, I shut the door in her face. Hard. Clear. Final. Because I’m not interested. Not in her. Not in anyone— when all I can see is ice-blue eyes and black hair and a hand that sparked when mine touched it. I toss my duffel onto a chair. The room is plain. Clean. Temporary. It should be easy to sleep here. It isn’t. I shower, hoping hot water will burn the restlessness out of my bones. It doesn’t. I lie down. Storm paces inside me. My mind keeps dragging me back to the dining room door. To the way she ran. To the way her body tensed like she recognized something. I try to force my eyes shut. Minutes pass. An hour. Nothing. Finally I give up. I pull on sweatpants and head downstairs. Outside. Air. The moment I step into the open night, my chest loosens. Rain falls light and steady. The forest smells clean. Alive. I breathe in, deep. Better. Less trapped. Storm pushes forward—restless, demanding. I break into a run toward the treeline. And when I reach it, I strip off my clothes and let Storm take over. Bones shift. Fur ripples. The world expands. We run. Fast. Hard. Rain slicking our coat. Mud under paws. Trees blurring past. Then— a scent cuts through everything. The most incredible thing I’ve ever smelled. Forest after fresh rain. And something sweeter under it. Honey. Warm. Addictive. It hits my bloodstream like poison and medicine at the same time. My mouth floods. Storm growls low in my chest—hungry, possessive, certain. Our paws change direction without thought. Our body chooses. “I think I smell our mate,” Storm says. And my heart, even in a wolf’s chest, slams once— like a door locking. BETTY / ISABELLE Rain hit my skin like cold fingers. It helped me breathe. The forest was unusually quiet—every little creature tucked away from the downpour. No chirps. No rustling. Just water and my pulse. In. Out. The air tasted like wet earth and pine. Each inhale loosened the fist around my chest. Because if I stayed inside that packhouse one more second— I would’ve cracked. The moment Rose said the words—our mate—panic slammed into me like a wall. My lungs tightened. The ceiling felt lower. The hallways felt narrower. And the worst part? He was right there. A room away. Alpha Josh. My mate. The thing I’m not ready for. So I lied. “I’m not feeling well,” I told the other omegas. Then I ran. Out the back. Past the stairs. Past the rules. Past the eyes that always watched. Straight into the rain. Straight into the only place that didn’t feel like a cage. Goddess. Why me? “I’m sorry,” Rose whispered for what had to be the millionth time. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that.” “It’s fine,” I forced out. “I would’ve found out eventually.” I didn’t have the energy to soften it. Normally I would’ve soothed her. Normally I would’ve held her guilt like it was mine. But right now my insides were shaking. I never imagined I’d meet him here. Not while I was trapped in this life. Not while I was still wearing the mask. Because that’s what I am in Opal Sun. A nobody. A wolfless omega. A girl who keeps her head down and her mouth shut. And the only good thing—the only thing—was this: He didn’t recognize me. Not as his mate. Not as anything. He looked at me like I was strange. Like I was… nothing. It should’ve hurt. Instead it felt like relief. Because if he had recognized me— If the bond had snapped tight— I might have lost control right there in front of everyone. And I cannot lose control. Not once. Not now. My life is one long storm. But sitting in the rain makes my thoughts sharpen. Clearer. Colder. It reminds me who I am. And who I’m pretending to be. I’m eighteen. A shifter princess hiding in a random pack like a stain no one wants to notice. I have been hiding my entire life. From the moment Rose and I were born, my parents hid us from the world. No announcement. No celebration. No “heir is born” feast. Only secrecy. Because there were people who would’ve used us the second they knew we existed. And they were right to be afraid. Rose and I were… special. Born under a full moon. In the middle of a rainstorm. The Goddess came to my parents herself. And she named me. The Luna of Rain. The Queen of Storms. No one else had powers like ours. Rain. Sleet. Snow. Lightning. Wind. Beautiful. Deadly. And “deadly” is exactly why we were hidden. Because power is never safe. Power is bait. Ten years ago, I went from a palace to nothing in minutes. One moment: my royal parents alive, training me to rule. The next: blood and screaming and a world ripped open. All because of one traitor with a hungry heart. Jackson. A man who wanted what was never meant to be his. My throne. My kingdom. My mother. My father. They died. And I lived. And the guilt sits in my throat like a stone. I will not stop. I will not “move on.” I will not let their deaths be for nothing. I will take back what was stolen. I will make them proud. That is the point. That is the only point. So where does a mate fit into a life like mine? He doesn’t. He’s a complication. A weakness. A leash. Because Jackson and his rogues won’t stop until I’m gone. And they won’t just come for me. They will come for anyone I love. Anyone I hesitate for. Anyone I would trade my safety to protect. And there is no weakness bigger than a mate. The bond turns you soft in places you can’t afford softness. It makes you care when caring can get you killed. I feel my mind trying to drag me under. Dark thoughts pulling at my ankles. Grief opening its mouth. It would be so easy to sink. So easy to let the cold swallow me whole. But I don’t. I can’t. Not after everything. Not when I’ve already survived ten years of pretending. Rose is quiet now, curled small inside me. Still guilty. Still wanting him. I can feel it. That ache. That longing. But longing doesn’t get us a throne back. Longing doesn’t kill Jackson. Longing doesn’t keep us alive. I lift my face to the rain and let it wash over my lashes. Let it sting. Let it wake me up. Because this is my reality: My mate exists. And he is powerful. And he is close. And if I’m not careful— he won’t just find me. He’ll claim me. And the moment that happens… my life stops being mine. So I breathe. I steady. I harden. I don’t get to fall apart. I don’t get to be a girl who wants. I have to be a queen who takes. And I will. I will keep fighting. No matter what the Goddess threw in my path. No matter who she tied to my soul. I will keep fighting. BETTY / ISABELLE I push myself off the ground. My fingers flick. The rain over the clearing… stops. Silence drops with it. I can’t sit here and drown in my own head. Self-loathing won’t save me. Training will. Anything but thinking about Alpha Josh. “Let’s train, Rose.” Rose hesitates. Cautious. Always cautious when we’re exposed. “Are you sure? You know it takes concentration.” “I’m sure.” I listen first. Head tilted. Breathing slow. No footsteps. No voices. No чуж—no strangers. Just the forest and the steady drip of water off leaves. Then I call her forward. Rose surges up through me like warmth. Bones shift. Fur spills across skin. In a heartbeat I’m on all fours, paws sinking into damp earth. Sapphire-blue. Glowing under moonlight. Our fur catches silver when the moon hits it—like raindrops trapped in it, blessed and cruel at the same time. When we run, that silver turns into something else. A storm. “What do you want to train?” Rose asks, tail flicking. “I’ve been wanting to try summoning a mini tornado.” I huff a laugh through my nose. “Ambitious.” “It’ll take a lot,” she admits. “But we can do it.” We can. We’ve been learning control since I was a child. In the beginning my emotions ruled the sky— I cried, it rained. I panicked, lightning snapped. By five, I could summon rain with a flick instead of a breakdown. Control wasn’t a gift. It was survival. Tonight the moon is high and bright, the clouds thin. A perfect night to pull strength straight from it. I brace. Paws digging in. I focus on wind— and Rose freezes. “I hear someone.” My blood turns cold. Rose lifts her nose. And then it hits me. A scent. So intoxicating it steals my breath. Forest after thunder. Wet earth and crushed pine— and pure male musk underneath. Heavy. Hot. Possessive. My mouth waters. My body leans toward it before I decide to move. I want to run. I want to bury my face in that scent until I forget my own name. Rose panics in my skull. “It’s our mate,” she snaps. “If we can smell him, he can smell us.” My pulse spikes. Too close. Too soon. Rose is already moving us—fast, urgent. “I’m shifting back. You—summon rain. Now. Wash us.” Less than a second later, I’m back on two feet. Hands shaking as I drag my clothes on. The scent is stronger now. Closer. He’s coming. I force the sky to obey. Rain slams down in sheets. Cold and hard, drenching me instantly—soaking my dress, plastering fabric to skin. It should feel miserable. It doesn’t. Rain is my safe place. Rain is the one thing that’s always listened to me. Rose retreats deep, deep inside. Gone. Hidden. Wolfless. A lie that’s kept me alive for ten years. I grit my teeth as water runs down my throat. “I thought you wanted him to know,” I snap inside my head. “You’ve been begging for him for years.” “The time isn’t right,” Rose answers, clipped. Of course. Always on her schedule. “Why can I smell him now,” I hiss, “but not earlier in the dining room?” “I blocked his mate scent,” she says. “So you wouldn’t freak out and run before you even got to look at him.” I roll my eyes, but my heart is hammering. Because she’s right. If I’d smelled him in that room— I would’ve shattered. The rain pounds harder, washing the clearing clean. Washing me clean. Washing her clean. But the scent… That scent still clings to the air like a promise. Then the bushes across from me move. A shape steps out of the dark. A wolf. Massive. Gray—deep charcoal, like storm clouds stacked thick in the sky. He fills the clearing with presence alone. My breath catches. I should look afraid. I don’t. I’m too busy staring at him like my body recognizes him before my mind dares to. He’s huge. Not quite as big as my father’s wolf was—midnight-black, terrifying— but close. And something about him is… inevitable. He turns. Walks back into the trees. For a heartbeat, disappointment pinches my chest. Why is he leaving— Then he returns. Human this time. Sweatpants. No shirt. Rain glosses him like oil. And my brain forgets how to function. Rose’s voice pops up like a wicked little devil from deep inside me. “Damn,” she breathes. “Our mate is hot.” I should scoff. I can’t. Because—fuck—she’s right. He’s carved. Hard muscle in all the right places. An eight-pack that flexes when he moves. Rain drops tracking down his chest, caught in the lines of tattoo ink that runs over his arms and across his torso. The water slides down— over his stomach— and disappears beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Right above that sharp V that makes my mouth go dry. “Holy shit,” I whisper. Not to Rose. To the universe. To the Goddess who thought it was funny to hand me a temptation shaped like a man. His dark hair is shorter on the sides, longer on top, wet and falling forward. It shadows his eyes. Silver eyes. Those same silver eyes. And he’s looking at me now. Not politely. Not casually. Like he’s measuring me. Like he’s already decided I’m interesting. His mouth curves—slow, knowing. A smirk. He caught me staring. And I know—because I can feel it—he’s doing the same thing to me. His gaze drags. Down my soaked dress. The fabric clinging to my ribs. My waist. My thighs. Rain makes my clothes a second skin. And his eyes don’t look away from it. “Out here alone?” he asks. His voice is deep. Low. It hits my spine like a touch. “Don’t you know the forest can be dangerous at night?” The words sound like a warning. The tone sounds like a claim. I lift my chin and give him a smile I don’t fully feel. “Don’t worry,” I say. “I can take care of myself.” His smirk deepens. “Is that right?” He takes a few slow steps closer. Not rushed. Not aggressive. Worse. Controlled. Like he knows I’ll stay still and let him close the distance. I force my hands to my hips. Cock my hip out like I’m not one breath away from losing my mind. “Well,” I say lightly, “I could… until the big bad wolf showed up.” I let my gaze flick down his body once, openly this time. If he’s going to stare, I will too. Then I tilt my head. “The real question is—what are you doing out here?” His eyes flash. For a split second, they glow—silver turning brighter. His wolf is right there under his skin. Watching. Listening. Owning. “I smelled something,” he says. His voice drops even lower. “It pulled me out here.” He looks around the clearing. Sharp. Searching. “And then…” His gaze snaps back to me. “…it disappeared.” A chill runs through me despite the rain. He smelled Rose. He smelled us. He smelled the bond before I washed it away. And the way he’s looking at me now— he doesn’t believe it simply “disappeared.” He believes it’s hiding. My throat tightens. Any normal girl would blurt it out. I’m your mate. Any normal girl would crave the relief of saying it. But my life isn’t normal. My life is a trap with teeth. Jackson and his rogues are still out there. Still hunting. Still waiting for one mistake. And a mate is the biggest weakness a girl like me can have. A bond is a leash someone else can grab. A mate is a target painted in blood. So I keep my face smooth. Keep my smile lazy. Keep my voice teasing. “Maybe you just imagined it,” I say. His eyes narrow slightly. Not amused. Interested. Predatory. “Maybe,” he murmurs. Another step. Closer. Rain sliding down his jaw. Down his throat. He stops just far enough away that he isn’t touching me— but close enough I can feel his heat through the cold air. Close enough that my body leans forward like it wants the contact. The bond tugs. A slow, aching pull right behind my ribs. He inhales. Once. Deep. Like he’s tasting me. Like he’s committing my scent to memory. And my stomach flips, because I realize— I might have washed away Rose. But I can’t wash away me. Not completely. Not from him. His gaze locks on mine. Silver on ice-blue. His smirk fades into something darker. Quieter. Dangerous. “You’re not from Opal Sun,” he says softly. Not a question. A statement. My pulse stutters. I force a laugh. “And what makes you think that?” His eyes drop to my throat. To the place a mark would go. Then back up. “Because you’re standing in my forest in the rain,” he says, voice like velvet over steel. “And you’re not afraid.” My skin prickles. I should deny harder. I should back away. I don’t. I tell myself I’m only here for a moment. That he’ll leave tomorrow after his meeting with Frank. That fate will put distance between us again. That I can have a little fun and then disappear. That’s what I tell myself. But Storms don’t ask permission before they hit. And neither do mates. I lift my chin and hold his stare. “Maybe I just like the rain,” I say. His mouth twitches—almost a smile. Almost. Then his eyes sharpen again. And the way he looks at me makes my body ache in a way that feels brand new and far too old at the same time. He leans in just slightly. Not touching. Not yet. But close enough that his words brush my lips like a threat. “You’re hiding something,” he murmurs. My breath catches. Rain pounds around us. My soaked dress clings tighter. And my wolf—buried deep—shifts once in panic. Because I feel it. The bond pulling. The truth pushing up. And the terrifying part is— I’m not sure I’m the one in control anymore. BETTY / ISABELLE I should’ve run. The moment I realized he’d followed the scent into the forest, I should’ve vanished into the rain and never looked back. But the bond doesn’t care what I should do. It pulls. It aches. It drags my attention to him like a hook in my ribs. I can still taste his scent on the back of my tongue—storm-wet earth and male heat. And the worst part? It’s gone for him. Rose washed it away. So now he’s here with questions. And I’m here with a secret that could get us killed. He stands in front of me like the night made him. Head Alpha. All muscle and dominance and silver eyes that don’t blink enough. Rain beads on his bare chest and slides down the ink on his skin. It drips from his hair. From his jaw. From the lines of his body I should not be staring at. I am staring anyway. Because my body is a traitor. Because he’s mine—even if I refuse to say it out loud. “Storm,” I hear him think it more than say it. “Could she be hiding her wolf?” Rose answers from deep inside me like she’s biting her own tongue. Impossible. Good. Let him believe that. Let him believe I’m just Betty. Just an awkward, wolfless omega in a black dress. Just a girl the pack looks through. I can wear that lie. I’ve worn worse. He takes a slow step closer. Not rushed. Controlled. Predatory in the quiet way that makes you realize you’re being cornered and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Rain makes my dress cling to me. I feel his gaze catch on it. Track it. Drag down my body like a hand. I hate that heat pools low in my stomach. I hate that my nipples tighten from cold and from him. I keep my face blank. I keep my voice light. He doesn’t. His eyes flick over my throat—like he’s picturing where a mark would go. Then he speaks. “Since I told you why I’m out here,” he says, low, “it’s your turn.” Not a request. A turn. A rule. A man used to being obeyed. I lift my chin. Give him a shrug like I don’t feel the pressure in the air. “Training.” One word. A hook. His brows lift, just slightly. “Training.” He repeats it like he doesn’t believe I’m allowed to own that word. Then his mouth hardens. “I wasn’t aware omegas were allowed to train in this pack.” Omega. He says it casually. Like it’s a fact. Like it’s a label I should accept. Something sharp slices through me—fast and familiar. The basement. The bared necks. The eyes that judge. The rules that press you down until you forget you can stand. For one second, sadness flashes over my face before I can stop it. Then I crush it. I replace it with something harder. Defiant. “They aren’t,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to defend myself.” I step into my own space. “I wasn’t kidding. I can take care of myself.” His gaze changes. The meek omega from the dining room disappears in his mind. He’s looking at the girl underneath. And it turns him on. I can smell it in the subtle shift of his scent. Approval. Interest. Heat. He cracks his neck slowly, like he’s settling into a fight. “All right,” he says. Then, darker— “Show me.” My heart thuds once. Not fear. Anticipation. I’ve been careful for ten years. Always smaller. Always softer. Always invisible. And now my mate is standing in front of me, telling me to prove myself. I should refuse. I should run. Instead, my mouth curves. Just a little. Like this is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. He doesn’t understand who he’s challenging. He doesn’t understand what I am. Good. Let him underestimate me. I don’t even take a stance. I just stand there. Waiting. Letting him decide to be the first one to cross the line. He moves. Fast. Alpha-fast. A blur in the rain. His fist shoots toward my shoulder—light enough not to injure, quick enough to land. I step aside. Barely. His knuckles cut air. I hear his breath hitch. I let my smile sharpen. “Is that the best you’ve got, Alpha?” Mischief flashes in his eyes. Then it turns into focus. Predator focus. He reaches for me—hands going for my shoulders. I slip away again. Blink-fast. He misses. He tries again. Miss. Again. Miss. His frustration builds in the space between us like thunder. He starts throwing punches, kicks—faster, harder, explainable only by strength. I don’t hit back. Not once. I let him chase. Let him test. Let him think he’s getting closer. Because I’m watching him too. Measuring. Learning. And because part of me likes the way he looks when he’s hungry. Then he finally catches me. A sudden snake of movement. His hand shoots out and closes around my throat. Not crushing. Not enough to block air. Just enough to remind me who has the power here. Just enough to say: Mine. My body goes still. Not because I’m scared. Because the second his skin touches mine— electricity explodes. A rush of tingles slams through my neck, across my collarbones, down my spine. My breath breaks. His breath breaks too. His eyes widen like he felt it—felt it the way I did. For a second, the forest disappears. Rain. Trees. Night. None of it exists. It’s just his hand on my throat. And the bond screaming under my skin. Rose stirs deep inside me, panicked. Don’t— But it’s too late. Storm snarls inside him. I hear it in the way his chest expands, in the way his pupils sharpen. His eyes flash brighter silver. And then— the scent hits me. His arousal. Raw. Male. Immediate. It rolls off him like heat. And my own body answers it before my brain can. A deep ache blooms low in my belly. My thighs tense. My nipples harden painfully under wet fabric. I hate myself for it. I love myself for it. Because it means the bond isn’t one-sided. Because it means he’s losing control too. He growls out loud. Not words. A sound. Claiming. His grip tightens a fraction— and I feel the exact moment his restraint snaps. He leans in. Toward my mouth. Toward my lips. Toward the place he can ruin me with one touch. I can see it in his face. He isn’t thinking. He’s taking. I move. Fast. Sharp. I drop my arms, twist, and rip free. If he’d been in his right mind, he’d have held me. But he’s not. He’s distracted by my scent, my taste, my reaction—by the bond pulling him forward like gravity. So he loses me. For one breath. And that breath saves my entire life. I stumble back. Rain slapping my cheeks. Heart hammering. He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear dirty thoughts. Like he’s trying to grab control with both hands. I watch him do it. And for the first time, I realize something that should terrify me. He’s strong. But he’s not immune. Not to me. Not to this. He comes for me again. Hands reaching. I slip away. Again. Again. Again. He’s fast. I’m faster. Lightning. A ghost. And still—he doesn’t stop. Because he’s an Alpha. Because he’s used to winning. Because something in him has already decided I belong to him—even if his mind refuses to say the word mate. We circle, breath fogging in the rain. Then I see it. The smallest mistake. His weight shifts wrong for half a second. And I take it. I dodge his strike. Grab his arm. Twist. Step in. Use his momentum. And throw him over my shoulder. Hard. He hits the ground with a wet thud that shakes the clearing. For a heartbeat, everything is silent. Then I lean over him, rain sliding down my face like tears I don’t have time to cry. My eyes sparkle. Not fear. Joy. “Oops,” I giggle. “Hope I didn’t hurt you.” His stare is shocked. Breath rough. “How the fuck…?” he rasps. I tilt my head. “Don’t feel bad. People always doubt the little wolfless omega.” I let my smile widen. “If it makes you feel better… I knew you weren’t giving me your all.” I offer him my hand. He takes it. And the second our skin meets— the tingles strike again. We both freeze. Because now we both know. This isn’t random. This isn’t nothing. This is something that keeps happening no matter how many rules we hide behind. He stands, still staring at me like I just rewrote the laws of his world. “Well,” he mutters, voice rough, “you had no problem making me eat my words for calling you an omega.” I shrug. Casual. Like I didn’t just flip the Head Alpha like a rag doll. “It’s no big deal,” I say. “That’s what I am.” His jaw tightens. He doesn’t like that answer. Not because it’s untrue. Because it makes me sound small. And he’s starting to realize I’m not. He watches me for a long beat. Then his gaze goes distant—glazed like he’s talking to something inside himself. To Storm. I can tell. Because I’ve done the same thing with Rose. I can’t help myself. I tease him. “Is the big bad alpha wolf scolding you for getting your ass kicked by a little omega?” His laugh bursts out—warm, surprised. “Actually,” he says, “he keeps raving about how amazing you are.” Something bright sparks in my chest. I shouldn’t like that. I do. My mouth opens before my brain catches up. “Can you bring him out?” I ask, honest for half a second. “I never really get to associate with other wolves.” The second the words leave me— I remember where I am. Who I am. What I’m supposed to be. My body reacts before my mind even finishes the thought. My eyes drop. My neck tilts automatically. Submission. Habit. Training. A reflex burned into me by ten years of survival. “I’m sorry, Alpha Josh,” I whisper. “I forgot my manners. I shouldn’t have thrown you, or spoken to you that way. Please forgive me.” The silence that follows is suffocating. Because I can feel his shock. I can feel his anger—not at me. At the fact that I even know how to do that. At the fact that someone taught my body to apologize for existing. I hate myself in that moment. Hate the way my spine knows how to fold. Hate the way the word Alpha still has claws in my throat. Then he moves. One step. Two. Close enough that his heat smothers the cold rain. His finger slides under my chin. Lifts. Forces my face up. Forces my eyes to meet his. The tingles flare again—faint but undeniable. His voice drops. Not gentle. Controlled. Commanding. “Don’t ever look down,” he says. A beat. “Not at me.” My pulse stutters. He holds my chin like I’m something he owns. Like he’s rewriting my instincts by force. “I suggested sparring,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “You were a breath of fresh air tonight.” My throat tightens. He keeps going, each word tightening the invisible collar. “Every day people treat me like Head Alpha.” “Every day they fear me.” “Tonight you didn’t.” His thumb feels like fire against my skin. “So you don’t apologize,” he says. “You don’t submit.” “Not because you’re allowed.” His eyes sharpen. “Because I said so.” My breath leaves me in a shaky exhale. “Understood?” The question isn’t a question. It’s a leash. I swallow hard. “Yes… Alpha Josh.” The way his name tastes on my tongue is dangerous. It makes his eyes darken. It makes his scent spike—hotter, thicker. It makes my body betray me all over again. And I see it happen. I see the exact moment the image hits him— me on my back, rain on skin, his mouth at my throat, my voice breaking on his name. His pupils blow wider. His jaw clenches. He leans in. Slow. Like he’s fighting himself and losing. I can’t help it. My eyes flutter closed. My lips part. My body tilts toward him like it’s been waiting for permission. Rose screams inside me. No— But my skin is already humming. His breath brushes my mouth. His hand tightens under my chin. And Storm’s growl rolls through him so deep it vibrates my bones. He’s about to kiss me. About to claim me. About to ruin everything I’ve built— And I realize, with a cold, sinking certainty: I can hide my wolf. I can hide my crown. But I can’t hide the way my body answers him. Not anymore. Not when he’s this close. Not when the bond is pulling so hard it hurts. And the scariest part is— I don’t know if I can stop myself this time.
I was halfway through washing the lunch dishes. Water running. Foam everywhere. My hands already wrinkled and raw from soap. Then— the squealing hit. High-pitched. Shrill. Like nails dragged across my brain. I didn’t even bother looking up. Alpha and Luna’s three precious daughters were at it again. “Oh my Goddess, did you see him?” Jewel shrieked. “He’s so handsome. I hope he’s my mate!” She’d turned eighteen a few months ago. Since then, her entire personality had become one thing: Find. A. Mate. “If I wasn’t already happily mated,” Tracy purred, “I’d be trying to get him alone and have my way with him.” She said it like it was cute. Because in this pack, girls like her could say anything. Girls like me—omegas—didn’t get to say no. I scrubbed harder. Tracy wasn’t even the worst part. Her mate was. Dexter. Future Alpha. His wandering eyes landed on me more times than I cared to count. Like I was something cheap he could reach for whenever he wanted. “Maybe Alpha Josh will turn out to be my mate when I turn eighteen,” the youngest, Emma, chirped. I scoffed quietly and kept washing. They were obsessed with boys. Obsessed with mates. Obsessed with being chosen. I had a mate too. Every wolf did. I just hoped mine came later. Because a mate would ruin me. He would soften me. Distract me. Make me forget why I’m still alive. That’s when my wolf spoke. Rose’s voice slid through my mind, sharp and urgent. “We have to find him.” My fingers froze. Suds slid down my wrist. “Not this again,” I muttered internally. “Why are you so obsessed?” “Because he’s the key.” Key. The word punched a hole straight through my chest. “Key to what?” I snapped back. “And don’t give me another riddle.” Rose paused. Then—finally—she dropped the first real clue she’d ever given me. “If you want to take back what’s ours… we need his pack.” My eyes widened. That was new. “So…” My throat went tight. “He’s an Alpha?” Silence. Rose shut down instantly. Like she hadn’t said anything at all. I wasn’t shocked. I’m supposed to be Queen one day. My mate being anything less than an Alpha would be strange. But the problem wasn’t who he was. The problem was who I was right now. I was an omega in the Opal Sun Pack. A basement girl. A dish-washer. A servant. A wolfless omega—at least that’s what they believed. For ten years. Because when I was eight— I watched my parents get murdered right in front of me. Blood. Screams. Tearing flesh. I didn’t save them. I just survived. Survived so I could take back what was mine. Jackson. My father’s Beta. The man who used to kneel at my father’s feet— and then climbed onto the throne with his hands still stained. Every night since, the same nightmare hunted me. Ten years without real sleep. Ten years of darkness behind my eyes. Ten years of pretending to be small. Mate bonds were the sweetest poison. Rose whimpered softly in my head. She wanted him. Wanted him badly. And part of me wanted it too. A hand at my back. Someone on my side. But I couldn’t afford it. Not yet. First I had to live. First I had to win. “Oh, Betty~” A sugary voice drifted behind me. My spine went rigid. Luna Jenny. I turned immediately and bared my neck. Submission. Humiliation. I hated the posture. Hated the way it trained my body to obey. “Once you’re done with those dishes,” she sang, “go freshen up for dinner service. We have a very important guest tonight, and I want everything perfect.” “Yes, Luna,” I answered in my meek omega voice. Luna Jenny wasn’t cruel. She was beautiful—honey-blonde hair, light brown eyes, a smile like sunlight. But she’d raised her daughters like princesses. And the rest of us like tools. I dried my hands and headed downstairs. Basement level. Omega quarters. We each had our own rooms, but we shared a communal bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror and pulled my long black hair into a sleek ponytail. Ice-blue eyes stared back at me—tired, shadowed, rimmed with dark circles. Ten years. Ten years since I’d had one decent night without the nightmares. I changed into a simple black dress. No jewelry. No sparkle. Being unnoticed was my safest weapon. Then I went back upstairs to help the kitchen. They were cooking everything. The finest china. Dishes fit for royalty. Whoever Alpha Josh was, he mattered enough for them to go all out. “Dinner will start soon, Betty,” Clova told me, handing me a silver tray. “Take the champagne and start serving the guests before they sit.” Clova was head omega. Kind. Twenty years in the packhouse. She’d learned the same lesson we all had: Don’t ask why. I nodded and took the tray. As I approached the dining room door, Rose started to lose it. She jumped around in my head, tail wagging so hard I felt pressure behind my eyes. The excitement was dangerous. I needed her to stop before she blew our cover. Rose had hidden for ten years. Everyone believed I was wolfless. To keep her secret, she suppressed herself. The only time she ever surfaced fully was when we trained alone in the forest. “Rose,” I snapped silently, “what is going on? Settle down before you show.” “I know,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry.” That was all. No explanation. Of course. Rose always kept secrets until she decided it was “time.” I clenched my jaw. “Push it down,” I ordered. “Now.” She forced herself calmer. The excitement still hummed under my skin—hot and restless— but she held it back. I pushed through the door. The dining room glowed warm and bright. Laughter. Glass clinks. Expensive perfume. Beta and Gamma families gathered. The Alpha family stood in a circle, talking like they owned the world. I lifted the tray and put on my practiced smile. “Champagne?” “Champagne?” I moved around the room, careful. No eye contact. No attention. No mistakes. But the closer I got to Alpha Frank— the more Rose jittered. My temples throbbed. I was two seconds from telling her to calm the hell down before she ruined everything. Ten years. Ten years we’d convinced them I was nothing. I refused to let today be the day it all collapsed. I handed Alpha Frank his glass. He took it without looking at me. Then I turned to the man standing on his right. The guest of honor. Alpha Josh. I lifted a glass toward him. “Sir, would you—” I looked up. And the world stopped. Silver eyes. Moonlight-sharp. Rimmed with thick lashes that would make any girl jealous. My heart skipped. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Light stubble, a razor-cut jaw, full lips turned down in confusion—like he was staring at something impossible. He didn’t take the glass. He just… looked at me. And I drowned. Those silver eyes locked onto mine like my life depended on it. Like they were pulling something out of my soul. Rose went wild again. Joy. Hunger. Possession. I felt her clawing at my ribs. I almost lost it. Then someone cleared their throat behind me. A warning. A reminder of who I was supposed to be. I dropped my gaze instantly. My meek omega voice snapped back into place. “Sir… would you like a glass of champagne?” He still didn’t speak. He took the glass. His fingers brushed mine—barely. And a shock of tingles lit up at my fingertips, rushed up my arm, and slid down my spine. I jerked back like I’d been burned. Without another word, I turned and walked fast—too fast—back toward the kitchen. My heart was trying to break out of my chest. I shut the door and pressed my back against it, breathing hard. In. Out. In. I was just starting to calm down— when Rose dropped the bomb. “So,” she purred in my mind, tail practically wagging through my skull. “What did you think of our mate?” JOSH I didn’t want to come to Opal Sun today. Not even a little. But being Head Alpha means you don’t get to stay comfortable. You don’t get to ignore a pack that needs you—especially when their Alpha is about to step down. Alpha Frank isn’t a bad leader. He’s just… scared. Scared of handing his pack to the wrong man. And I can’t blame him. I met Tracy’s mate, Dexter, earlier. The moment I shook his hand, my instincts crawled. Wrong. Greedy. The kind of male who smiles while planning how to take more than he’s owed. Frank doesn’t have sons. So his “only option” is the male who gives me a bad feeling. That alone is enough to make me want to finish this visit fast and leave. And I know what Frank is hoping. He’s hoping the Goddess will be generous. He’s hoping his middle daughter, Jewel, will be my mate. I can feel it in the way he watches me. In the way he keeps nudging her closer. Thankfully, the Goddess has other plans. Because at twenty-five, I still haven’t met the one woman made for me. Storm whimpers in my head at the thought. He hates the empty space where she should be. “Trust me,” I tell him silently. “I want her too.” The formal dining room is full. Alpha family. Beta and Gamma families. Polite laughter. Small talk. Waiting for dinner. I’m pretending to listen to Frank and Beta Terrence tell some story I don’t care about. All I can think is— After dinner, I’ll pull Frank aside. We’ll talk business. I’ll solve what I can. And I’ll go home. That’s the plan. Then it happens. A shiver slides up my spine. Not cold. Presence. Strong enough to make Storm’s head lift inside me. I turn. And my world narrows to one thing. Ice-blue eyes. Stunning. Clear. Lethal. For a second, the room disappears. It’s just her. A girl holding a champagne tray like she’s trying not to exist. Hair the color of night, pulled back tight. Long lashes as dark as her hair. A heart-shaped face. High cheekbones. Full lips. Skin like cream. She isn’t dressed like the others. Simple black dress. Plain heels. Omega. Servant. The kind of girl this room looks through. Except I can’t look through her. I can’t look away. Storm shifts inside me, unsettled. The sound of Alpha Frank clearing his throat snaps the spell. I realize everyone is watching me watching her. As if she is the one who did something wrong. Her voice is soft when she asks, “Sir, would you like a glass of champagne?” I take it. But I don’t just take it. My fingers graze hers. Barely. A brush. And heat sparks across my hand like a live wire. My breath catches hard enough to hurt. She tenses too. Like she felt it. Like her body understood something her mind refused to say. Then she turns on her heel and walks away fast. Too fast. Like she’s running from the thing she just triggered. I stare after her until the door swings closed behind her. Storm’s voice is rough in my mind. Confused. “Josh…” “Is she ours?” I ask him. Storm hesitates. “I don’t know,” he admits, miserable. “I didn’t sense a wolf.” My chest tightens. Wolfless. Omega. An impossible pairing for a Head Alpha. And she looked young—around eighteen. If she hasn’t surfaced by now… She might never. I tell myself to let it go. I tell myself she isn’t mine. But her eyes stay burned behind my eyelids. Every time I blink, I see that ice-blue stare. Frank chuckles awkwardly, eager to smooth the moment. “Sorry about that, Alpha Josh. Betty is one of our more awkward omegas, considering she doesn’t have a wolf.” Betty. A name that doesn’t fit her face. It sounds small. And it makes something in me go still. “Has she never had one,” I ask carefully, “or did something happen to it?” I shouldn’t ask. I know I shouldn’t. Because questions are interest. And interest turns into attention. And attention turns into… complications. But the words are already out. Frank answers like it’s nothing. “As far as we know, she’s never had one. She came here about ten years ago—no parents. Said they were killed in a rogue attack. She had nowhere else to go. We took her in until her wolf surfaced… but it never did. So we let her stay. She’s worked the packhouse ever since.” Ten years. No parents. Rogue attack. Basement life. Service work. A girl with eyes like a queen, living like a shadow. My jaw tightens. I nod once—too neutral. Too controlled. I don’t want anyone to see I care. Because the second they think I care, they’ll start using it. Dinner starts. I force myself through it. Smiles. Polite conversation. Boring food I don’t taste. And Betty doesn’t come back. Not once. No flash of black hair. No ice-blue eyes. Nothing. Storm is restless. So am I. By the time dinner ends, my plan has changed without me agreeing to it. I should meet with Frank tonight. I should finish this and leave. But I can’t leave. Not yet. Not with that girl lodged under my skin like a thorn. So I make an excuse. “Let’s meet tomorrow morning,” I tell Frank. “We’ll need the whole day for discussions.” He looks relieved. Grateful. He offers rooms for me and the warriors I brought. And of course— Jewel is the one who shows us. She walks too close. Talks too softly. She knows what her father wants. “Here is your room, Alpha,” she purrs. “Mine is on the next floor if you need anything.” That tone. I’ve heard it a hundred times. Female ambition disguised as sweetness. Before tonight, maybe I would’ve noticed she was pretty. Strawberry-blonde hair. Green eyes. Curves in all the right places. Tonight, she’s just… noise. “Thank you,” I say flatly. “I’ll retire for the night.” I open my door. I don’t look back. And when she lingers in the hall, I shut the door in her face. Hard. Clear. Final. Because I’m not interested. Not in her. Not in anyone— when all I can see is ice-blue eyes and black hair and a hand that sparked when mine touched it. I toss my duffel onto a chair. The room is plain. Clean. Temporary. It should be easy to sleep here. It isn’t. I shower, hoping hot water will burn the restlessness out of my bones. It doesn’t. I lie down. Storm paces inside me. My mind keeps dragging me back to the dining room door. To the way she ran. To the way her body tensed like she recognized something. I try to force my eyes shut. Minutes pass. An hour. Nothing. Finally I give up. I pull on sweatpants and head downstairs. Outside. Air. The moment I step into the open night, my chest loosens. Rain falls light and steady. The forest smells clean. Alive. I breathe in, deep. Better. Less trapped. Storm pushes forward—restless, demanding. I break into a run toward the treeline. And when I reach it, I strip off my clothes and let Storm take over. Bones shift. Fur ripples. The world expands. We run. Fast. Hard. Rain slicking our coat. Mud under paws. Trees blurring past. Then— a scent cuts through everything. The most incredible thing I’ve ever smelled. Forest after fresh rain. And something sweeter under it. Honey. Warm. Addictive. It hits my bloodstream like poison and medicine at the same time. My mouth floods. Storm growls low in my chest—hungry, possessive, certain. Our paws change direction without thought. Our body chooses. “I think I smell our mate,” Storm says. And my heart, even in a wolf’s chest, slams once— like a door locking. BETTY / ISABELLE Rain hit my skin like cold fingers. It helped me breathe. The forest was unusually quiet—every little creature tucked away from the downpour. No chirps. No rustling. Just water and my pulse. In. Out. The air tasted like wet earth and pine. Each inhale loosened the fist around my chest. Because if I stayed inside that packhouse one more second— I would’ve cracked. The moment Rose said the words—our mate—panic slammed into me like a wall. My lungs tightened. The ceiling felt lower. The hallways felt narrower. And the worst part? He was right there. A room away. Alpha Josh. My mate. The thing I’m not ready for. So I lied. “I’m not feeling well,” I told the other omegas. Then I ran. Out the back. Past the stairs. Past the rules. Past the eyes that always watched. Straight into the rain. Straight into the only place that didn’t feel like a cage. Goddess. Why me? “I’m sorry,” Rose whispered for what had to be the millionth time. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that.” “It’s fine,” I forced out. “I would’ve found out eventually.” I didn’t have the energy to soften it. Normally I would’ve soothed her. Normally I would’ve held her guilt like it was mine. But right now my insides were shaking. I never imagined I’d meet him here. Not while I was trapped in this life. Not while I was still wearing the mask. Because that’s what I am in Opal Sun. A nobody. A wolfless omega. A girl who keeps her head down and her mouth shut. And the only good thing—the only thing—was this: He didn’t recognize me. Not as his mate. Not as anything. He looked at me like I was strange. Like I was… nothing. It should’ve hurt. Instead it felt like relief. Because if he had recognized me— If the bond had snapped tight— I might have lost control right there in front of everyone. And I cannot lose control. Not once. Not now. My life is one long storm. But sitting in the rain makes my thoughts sharpen. Clearer. Colder. It reminds me who I am. And who I’m pretending to be. I’m eighteen. A shifter princess hiding in a random pack like a stain no one wants to notice. I have been hiding my entire life. From the moment Rose and I were born, my parents hid us from the world. No announcement. No celebration. No “heir is born” feast. Only secrecy. Because there were people who would’ve used us the second they knew we existed. And they were right to be afraid. Rose and I were… special. Born under a full moon. In the middle of a rainstorm. The Goddess came to my parents herself. And she named me. The Luna of Rain. The Queen of Storms. No one else had powers like ours. Rain. Sleet. Snow. Lightning. Wind. Beautiful. Deadly. And “deadly” is exactly why we were hidden. Because power is never safe. Power is bait. Ten years ago, I went from a palace to nothing in minutes. One moment: my royal parents alive, training me to rule. The next: blood and screaming and a world ripped open. All because of one traitor with a hungry heart. Jackson. A man who wanted what was never meant to be his. My throne. My kingdom. My mother. My father. They died. And I lived. And the guilt sits in my throat like a stone. I will not stop. I will not “move on.” I will not let their deaths be for nothing. I will take back what was stolen. I will make them proud. That is the point. That is the only point. So where does a mate fit into a life like mine? He doesn’t. He’s a complication. A weakness. A leash. Because Jackson and his rogues won’t stop until I’m gone. And they won’t just come for me. They will come for anyone I love. Anyone I hesitate for. Anyone I would trade my safety to protect. And there is no weakness bigger than a mate. The bond turns you soft in places you can’t afford softness. It makes you care when caring can get you killed. I feel my mind trying to drag me under. Dark thoughts pulling at my ankles. Grief opening its mouth. It would be so easy to sink. So easy to let the cold swallow me whole. But I don’t. I can’t. Not after everything. Not when I’ve already survived ten years of pretending. Rose is quiet now, curled small inside me. Still guilty. Still wanting him. I can feel it. That ache. That longing. But longing doesn’t get us a throne back. Longing doesn’t kill Jackson. Longing doesn’t keep us alive. I lift my face to the rain and let it wash over my lashes. Let it sting. Let it wake me up. Because this is my reality: My mate exists. And he is powerful. And he is close. And if I’m not careful— he won’t just find me. He’ll claim me. And the moment that happens… my life stops being mine. So I breathe. I steady. I harden. I don’t get to fall apart. I don’t get to be a girl who wants. I have to be a queen who takes. And I will. I will keep fighting. No matter what the Goddess threw in my path. No matter who she tied to my soul. I will keep fighting. BETTY / ISABELLE I push myself off the ground. My fingers flick. The rain over the clearing… stops. Silence drops with it. I can’t sit here and drown in my own head. Self-loathing won’t save me. Training will. Anything but thinking about Alpha Josh. “Let’s train, Rose.” Rose hesitates. Cautious. Always cautious when we’re exposed. “Are you sure? You know it takes concentration.” “I’m sure.” I listen first. Head tilted. Breathing slow. No footsteps. No voices. No чуж—no strangers. Just the forest and the steady drip of water off leaves. Then I call her forward. Rose surges up through me like warmth. Bones shift. Fur spills across skin. In a heartbeat I’m on all fours, paws sinking into damp earth. Sapphire-blue. Glowing under moonlight. Our fur catches silver when the moon hits it—like raindrops trapped in it, blessed and cruel at the same time. When we run, that silver turns into something else. A storm. “What do you want to train?” Rose asks, tail flicking. “I’ve been wanting to try summoning a mini tornado.” I huff a laugh through my nose. “Ambitious.” “It’ll take a lot,” she admits. “But we can do it.” We can. We’ve been learning control since I was a child. In the beginning my emotions ruled the sky— I cried, it rained. I panicked, lightning snapped. By five, I could summon rain with a flick instead of a breakdown. Control wasn’t a gift. It was survival. Tonight the moon is high and bright, the clouds thin. A perfect night to pull strength straight from it. I brace. Paws digging in. I focus on wind— and Rose freezes. “I hear someone.” My blood turns cold. Rose lifts her nose. And then it hits me. A scent. So intoxicating it steals my breath. Forest after thunder. Wet earth and crushed pine— and pure male musk underneath. Heavy. Hot. Possessive. My mouth waters. My body leans toward it before I decide to move. I want to run. I want to bury my face in that scent until I forget my own name. Rose panics in my skull. “It’s our mate,” she snaps. “If we can smell him, he can smell us.” My pulse spikes. Too close. Too soon. Rose is already moving us—fast, urgent. “I’m shifting back. You—summon rain. Now. Wash us.” Less than a second later, I’m back on two feet. Hands shaking as I drag my clothes on. The scent is stronger now. Closer. He’s coming. I force the sky to obey. Rain slams down in sheets. Cold and hard, drenching me instantly—soaking my dress, plastering fabric to skin. It should feel miserable. It doesn’t. Rain is my safe place. Rain is the one thing that’s always listened to me. Rose retreats deep, deep inside. Gone. Hidden. Wolfless. A lie that’s kept me alive for ten years. I grit my teeth as water runs down my throat. “I thought you wanted him to know,” I snap inside my head. “You’ve been begging for him for years.” “The time isn’t right,” Rose answers, clipped. Of course. Always on her schedule. “Why can I smell him now,” I hiss, “but not earlier in the dining room?” “I blocked his mate scent,” she says. “So you wouldn’t freak out and run before you even got to look at him.” I roll my eyes, but my heart is hammering. Because she’s right. If I’d smelled him in that room— I would’ve shattered. The rain pounds harder, washing the clearing clean. Washing me clean. Washing her clean. But the scent… That scent still clings to the air like a promise. Then the bushes across from me move. A shape steps out of the dark. A wolf. Massive. Gray—deep charcoal, like storm clouds stacked thick in the sky. He fills the clearing with presence alone. My breath catches. I should look afraid. I don’t. I’m too busy staring at him like my body recognizes him before my mind dares to. He’s huge. Not quite as big as my father’s wolf was—midnight-black, terrifying— but close. And something about him is… inevitable. He turns. Walks back into the trees. For a heartbeat, disappointment pinches my chest. Why is he leaving— Then he returns. Human this time. Sweatpants. No shirt. Rain glosses him like oil. And my brain forgets how to function. Rose’s voice pops up like a wicked little devil from deep inside me. “Damn,” she breathes. “Our mate is hot.” I should scoff. I can’t. Because—fuck—she’s right. He’s carved. Hard muscle in all the right places. An eight-pack that flexes when he moves. Rain drops tracking down his chest, caught in the lines of tattoo ink that runs over his arms and across his torso. The water slides down— over his stomach— and disappears beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Right above that sharp V that makes my mouth go dry. “Holy shit,” I whisper. Not to Rose. To the universe. To the Goddess who thought it was funny to hand me a temptation shaped like a man. His dark hair is shorter on the sides, longer on top, wet and falling forward. It shadows his eyes. Silver eyes. Those same silver eyes. And he’s looking at me now. Not politely. Not casually. Like he’s measuring me. Like he’s already decided I’m interesting. His mouth curves—slow, knowing. A smirk. He caught me staring. And I know—because I can feel it—he’s doing the same thing to me. His gaze drags. Down my soaked dress. The fabric clinging to my ribs. My waist. My thighs. Rain makes my clothes a second skin. And his eyes don’t look away from it. “Out here alone?” he asks. His voice is deep. Low. It hits my spine like a touch. “Don’t you know the forest can be dangerous at night?” The words sound like a warning. The tone sounds like a claim. I lift my chin and give him a smile I don’t fully feel. “Don’t worry,” I say. “I can take care of myself.” His smirk deepens. “Is that right?” He takes a few slow steps closer. Not rushed. Not aggressive. Worse. Controlled. Like he knows I’ll stay still and let him close the distance. I force my hands to my hips. Cock my hip out like I’m not one breath away from losing my mind. “Well,” I say lightly, “I could… until the big bad wolf showed up.” I let my gaze flick down his body once, openly this time. If he’s going to stare, I will too. Then I tilt my head. “The real question is—what are you doing out here?” His eyes flash. For a split second, they glow—silver turning brighter. His wolf is right there under his skin. Watching. Listening. Owning. “I smelled something,” he says. His voice drops even lower. “It pulled me out here.” He looks around the clearing. Sharp. Searching. “And then…” His gaze snaps back to me. “…it disappeared.” A chill runs through me despite the rain. He smelled Rose. He smelled us. He smelled the bond before I washed it away. And the way he’s looking at me now— he doesn’t believe it simply “disappeared.” He believes it’s hiding. My throat tightens. Any normal girl would blurt it out. I’m your mate. Any normal girl would crave the relief of saying it. But my life isn’t normal. My life is a trap with teeth. Jackson and his rogues are still out there. Still hunting. Still waiting for one mistake. And a mate is the biggest weakness a girl like me can have. A bond is a leash someone else can grab. A mate is a target painted in blood. So I keep my face smooth. Keep my smile lazy. Keep my voice teasing. “Maybe you just imagined it,” I say. His eyes narrow slightly. Not amused. Interested. Predatory. “Maybe,” he murmurs. Another step. Closer. Rain sliding down his jaw. Down his throat. He stops just far enough away that he isn’t touching me— but close enough I can feel his heat through the cold air. Close enough that my body leans forward like it wants the contact. The bond tugs. A slow, aching pull right behind my ribs. He inhales. Once. Deep. Like he’s tasting me. Like he’s committing my scent to memory. And my stomach flips, because I realize— I might have washed away Rose. But I can’t wash away me. Not completely. Not from him. His gaze locks on mine. Silver on ice-blue. His smirk fades into something darker. Quieter. Dangerous. “You’re not from Opal Sun,” he says softly. Not a question. A statement. My pulse stutters. I force a laugh. “And what makes you think that?” His eyes drop to my throat. To the place a mark would go. Then back up. “Because you’re standing in my forest in the rain,” he says, voice like velvet over steel. “And you’re not afraid.” My skin prickles. I should deny harder. I should back away. I don’t. I tell myself I’m only here for a moment. That he’ll leave tomorrow after his meeting with Frank. That fate will put distance between us again. That I can have a little fun and then disappear. That’s what I tell myself. But Storms don’t ask permission before they hit. And neither do mates. I lift my chin and hold his stare. “Maybe I just like the rain,” I say. His mouth twitches—almost a smile. Almost. Then his eyes sharpen again. And the way he looks at me makes my body ache in a way that feels brand new and far too old at the same time. He leans in just slightly. Not touching. Not yet. But close enough that his words brush my lips like a threat. “You’re hiding something,” he murmurs. My breath catches. Rain pounds around us. My soaked dress clings tighter. And my wolf—buried deep—shifts once in panic. Because I feel it. The bond pulling. The truth pushing up. And the terrifying part is— I’m not sure I’m the one in control anymore. BETTY / ISABELLE I should’ve run. The moment I realized he’d followed the scent into the forest, I should’ve vanished into the rain and never looked back. But the bond doesn’t care what I should do. It pulls. It aches. It drags my attention to him like a hook in my ribs. I can still taste his scent on the back of my tongue—storm-wet earth and male heat. And the worst part? It’s gone for him. Rose washed it away. So now he’s here with questions. And I’m here with a secret that could get us killed. He stands in front of me like the night made him. Head Alpha. All muscle and dominance and silver eyes that don’t blink enough. Rain beads on his bare chest and slides down the ink on his skin. It drips from his hair. From his jaw. From the lines of his body I should not be staring at. I am staring anyway. Because my body is a traitor. Because he’s mine—even if I refuse to say it out loud. “Storm,” I hear him think it more than say it. “Could she be hiding her wolf?” Rose answers from deep inside me like she’s biting her own tongue. Impossible. Good. Let him believe that. Let him believe I’m just Betty. Just an awkward, wolfless omega in a black dress. Just a girl the pack looks through. I can wear that lie. I’ve worn worse. He takes a slow step closer. Not rushed. Controlled. Predatory in the quiet way that makes you realize you’re being cornered and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Rain makes my dress cling to me. I feel his gaze catch on it. Track it. Drag down my body like a hand. I hate that heat pools low in my stomach. I hate that my nipples tighten from cold and from him. I keep my face blank. I keep my voice light. He doesn’t. His eyes flick over my throat—like he’s picturing where a mark would go. Then he speaks. “Since I told you why I’m out here,” he says, low, “it’s your turn.” Not a request. A turn. A rule. A man used to being obeyed. I lift my chin. Give him a shrug like I don’t feel the pressure in the air. “Training.” One word. A hook. His brows lift, just slightly. “Training.” He repeats it like he doesn’t believe I’m allowed to own that word. Then his mouth hardens. “I wasn’t aware omegas were allowed to train in this pack.” Omega. He says it casually. Like it’s a fact. Like it’s a label I should accept. Something sharp slices through me—fast and familiar. The basement. The bared necks. The eyes that judge. The rules that press you down until you forget you can stand. For one second, sadness flashes over my face before I can stop it. Then I crush it. I replace it with something harder. Defiant. “They aren’t,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to defend myself.” I step into my own space. “I wasn’t kidding. I can take care of myself.” His gaze changes. The meek omega from the dining room disappears in his mind. He’s looking at the girl underneath. And it turns him on. I can smell it in the subtle shift of his scent. Approval. Interest. Heat. He cracks his neck slowly, like he’s settling into a fight. “All right,” he says. Then, darker— “Show me.” My heart thuds once. Not fear. Anticipation. I’ve been careful for ten years. Always smaller. Always softer. Always invisible. And now my mate is standing in front of me, telling me to prove myself. I should refuse. I should run. Instead, my mouth curves. Just a little. Like this is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. He doesn’t understand who he’s challenging. He doesn’t understand what I am. Good. Let him underestimate me. I don’t even take a stance. I just stand there. Waiting. Letting him decide to be the first one to cross the line. He moves. Fast. Alpha-fast. A blur in the rain. His fist shoots toward my shoulder—light enough not to injure, quick enough to land. I step aside. Barely. His knuckles cut air. I hear his breath hitch. I let my smile sharpen. “Is that the best you’ve got, Alpha?” Mischief flashes in his eyes. Then it turns into focus. Predator focus. He reaches for me—hands going for my shoulders. I slip away again. Blink-fast. He misses. He tries again. Miss. Again. Miss. His frustration builds in the space between us like thunder. He starts throwing punches, kicks—faster, harder, explainable only by strength. I don’t hit back. Not once. I let him chase. Let him test. Let him think he’s getting closer. Because I’m watching him too. Measuring. Learning. And because part of me likes the way he looks when he’s hungry. Then he finally catches me. A sudden snake of movement. His hand shoots out and closes around my throat. Not crushing. Not enough to block air. Just enough to remind me who has the power here. Just enough to say: Mine. My body goes still. Not because I’m scared. Because the second his skin touches mine— electricity explodes. A rush of tingles slams through my neck, across my collarbones, down my spine. My breath breaks. His breath breaks too. His eyes widen like he felt it—felt it the way I did. For a second, the forest disappears. Rain. Trees. Night. None of it exists. It’s just his hand on my throat. And the bond screaming under my skin. Rose stirs deep inside me, panicked. Don’t— But it’s too late. Storm snarls inside him. I hear it in the way his chest expands, in the way his pupils sharpen. His eyes flash brighter silver. And then— the scent hits me. His arousal. Raw. Male. Immediate. It rolls off him like heat. And my own body answers it before my brain can. A deep ache blooms low in my belly. My thighs tense. My nipples harden painfully under wet fabric. I hate myself for it. I love myself for it. Because it means the bond isn’t one-sided. Because it means he’s losing control too. He growls out loud. Not words. A sound. Claiming. His grip tightens a fraction— and I feel the exact moment his restraint snaps. He leans in. Toward my mouth. Toward my lips. Toward the place he can ruin me with one touch. I can see it in his face. He isn’t thinking. He’s taking. I move. Fast. Sharp. I drop my arms, twist, and rip free. If he’d been in his right mind, he’d have held me. But he’s not. He’s distracted by my scent, my taste, my reaction—by the bond pulling him forward like gravity. So he loses me. For one breath. And that breath saves my entire life. I stumble back. Rain slapping my cheeks. Heart hammering. He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear dirty thoughts. Like he’s trying to grab control with both hands. I watch him do it. And for the first time, I realize something that should terrify me. He’s strong. But he’s not immune. Not to me. Not to this. He comes for me again. Hands reaching. I slip away. Again. Again. Again. He’s fast. I’m faster. Lightning. A ghost. And still—he doesn’t stop. Because he’s an Alpha. Because he’s used to winning. Because something in him has already decided I belong to him—even if his mind refuses to say the word mate. We circle, breath fogging in the rain. Then I see it. The smallest mistake. His weight shifts wrong for half a second. And I take it. I dodge his strike. Grab his arm. Twist. Step in. Use his momentum. And throw him over my shoulder. Hard. He hits the ground with a wet thud that shakes the clearing. For a heartbeat, everything is silent. Then I lean over him, rain sliding down my face like tears I don’t have time to cry. My eyes sparkle. Not fear. Joy. “Oops,” I giggle. “Hope I didn’t hurt you.” His stare is shocked. Breath rough. “How the fuck…?” he rasps. I tilt my head. “Don’t feel bad. People always doubt the little wolfless omega.” I let my smile widen. “If it makes you feel better… I knew you weren’t giving me your all.” I offer him my hand. He takes it. And the second our skin meets— the tingles strike again. We both freeze. Because now we both know. This isn’t random. This isn’t nothing. This is something that keeps happening no matter how many rules we hide behind. He stands, still staring at me like I just rewrote the laws of his world. “Well,” he mutters, voice rough, “you had no problem making me eat my words for calling you an omega.” I shrug. Casual. Like I didn’t just flip the Head Alpha like a rag doll. “It’s no big deal,” I say. “That’s what I am.” His jaw tightens. He doesn’t like that answer. Not because it’s untrue. Because it makes me sound small. And he’s starting to realize I’m not. He watches me for a long beat. Then his gaze goes distant—glazed like he’s talking to something inside himself. To Storm. I can tell. Because I’ve done the same thing with Rose. I can’t help myself. I tease him. “Is the big bad alpha wolf scolding you for getting your ass kicked by a little omega?” His laugh bursts out—warm, surprised. “Actually,” he says, “he keeps raving about how amazing you are.” Something bright sparks in my chest. I shouldn’t like that. I do. My mouth opens before my brain catches up. “Can you bring him out?” I ask, honest for half a second. “I never really get to associate with other wolves.” The second the words leave me— I remember where I am. Who I am. What I’m supposed to be. My body reacts before my mind even finishes the thought. My eyes drop. My neck tilts automatically. Submission. Habit. Training. A reflex burned into me by ten years of survival. “I’m sorry, Alpha Josh,” I whisper. “I forgot my manners. I shouldn’t have thrown you, or spoken to you that way. Please forgive me.” The silence that follows is suffocating. Because I can feel his shock. I can feel his anger—not at me. At the fact that I even know how to do that. At the fact that someone taught my body to apologize for existing. I hate myself in that moment. Hate the way my spine knows how to fold. Hate the way the word Alpha still has claws in my throat. Then he moves. One step. Two. Close enough that his heat smothers the cold rain. His finger slides under my chin. Lifts. Forces my face up. Forces my eyes to meet his. The tingles flare again—faint but undeniable. His voice drops. Not gentle. Controlled. Commanding. “Don’t ever look down,” he says. A beat. “Not at me.” My pulse stutters. He holds my chin like I’m something he owns. Like he’s rewriting my instincts by force. “I suggested sparring,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “You were a breath of fresh air tonight.” My throat tightens. He keeps going, each word tightening the invisible collar. “Every day people treat me like Head Alpha.” “Every day they fear me.” “Tonight you didn’t.” His thumb feels like fire against my skin. “So you don’t apologize,” he says. “You don’t submit.” “Not because you’re allowed.” His eyes sharpen. “Because I said so.” My breath leaves me in a shaky exhale. “Understood?” The question isn’t a question. It’s a leash. I swallow hard. “Yes… Alpha Josh.” The way his name tastes on my tongue is dangerous. It makes his eyes darken. It makes his scent spike—hotter, thicker. It makes my body betray me all over again. And I see it happen. I see the exact moment the image hits him— me on my back, rain on skin, his mouth at my throat, my voice breaking on his name. His pupils blow wider. His jaw clenches. He leans in. Slow. Like he’s fighting himself and losing. I can’t help it. My eyes flutter closed. My lips part. My body tilts toward him like it’s been waiting for permission. Rose screams inside me. No— But my skin is already humming. His breath brushes my mouth. His hand tightens under my chin. And Storm’s growl rolls through him so deep it vibrates my bones. He’s about to kiss me. About to claim me. About to ruin everything I’ve built— And I realize, with a cold, sinking certainty: I can hide my wolf. I can hide my crown. But I can’t hide the way my body answers him. Not anymore. Not when he’s this close. Not when the bond is pulling so hard it hurts. And the scariest part is— I don’t know if I can stop myself this time.
I was halfway through washing the lunch dishes. Water running. Foam everywhere. My hands already wrinkled and raw from soap. Then— the squealing hit. High-pitched. Shrill. Like nails dragged across my brain. I didn’t even bother looking up. Alpha and Luna’s three precious daughters were at it again. “Oh my Goddess, did you see him?” Jewel shrieked. “He’s so handsome. I hope he’s my mate!” She’d turned eighteen a few months ago. Since then, her entire personality had become one thing: Find. A. Mate. “If I wasn’t already happily mated,” Tracy purred, “I’d be trying to get him alone and have my way with him.” She said it like it was cute. Because in this pack, girls like her could say anything. Girls like me—omegas—didn’t get to say no. I scrubbed harder. Tracy wasn’t even the worst part. Her mate was. Dexter. Future Alpha. His wandering eyes landed on me more times than I cared to count. Like I was something cheap he could reach for whenever he wanted. “Maybe Alpha Josh will turn out to be my mate when I turn eighteen,” the youngest, Emma, chirped. I scoffed quietly and kept washing. They were obsessed with boys. Obsessed with mates. Obsessed with being chosen. I had a mate too. Every wolf did. I just hoped mine came later. Because a mate would ruin me. He would soften me. Distract me. Make me forget why I’m still alive. That’s when my wolf spoke. Rose’s voice slid through my mind, sharp and urgent. “We have to find him.” My fingers froze. Suds slid down my wrist. “Not this again,” I muttered internally. “Why are you so obsessed?” “Because he’s the key.” Key. The word punched a hole straight through my chest. “Key to what?” I snapped back. “And don’t give me another riddle.” Rose paused. Then—finally—she dropped the first real clue she’d ever given me. “If you want to take back what’s ours… we need his pack.” My eyes widened. That was new. “So…” My throat went tight. “He’s an Alpha?” Silence. Rose shut down instantly. Like she hadn’t said anything at all. I wasn’t shocked. I’m supposed to be Queen one day. My mate being anything less than an Alpha would be strange. But the problem wasn’t who he was. The problem was who I was right now. I was an omega in the Opal Sun Pack. A basement girl. A dish-washer. A servant. A wolfless omega—at least that’s what they believed. For ten years. Because when I was eight— I watched my parents get murdered right in front of me. Blood. Screams. Tearing flesh. I didn’t save them. I just survived. Survived so I could take back what was mine. Jackson. My father’s Beta. The man who used to kneel at my father’s feet— and then climbed onto the throne with his hands still stained. Every night since, the same nightmare hunted me. Ten years without real sleep. Ten years of darkness behind my eyes. Ten years of pretending to be small. Mate bonds were the sweetest poison. Rose whimpered softly in my head. She wanted him. Wanted him badly. And part of me wanted it too. A hand at my back. Someone on my side. But I couldn’t afford it. Not yet. First I had to live. First I had to win. “Oh, Betty~” A sugary voice drifted behind me. My spine went rigid. Luna Jenny. I turned immediately and bared my neck. Submission. Humiliation. I hated the posture. Hated the way it trained my body to obey. “Once you’re done with those dishes,” she sang, “go freshen up for dinner service. We have a very important guest tonight, and I want everything perfect.” “Yes, Luna,” I answered in my meek omega voice. Luna Jenny wasn’t cruel. She was beautiful—honey-blonde hair, light brown eyes, a smile like sunlight. But she’d raised her daughters like princesses. And the rest of us like tools. I dried my hands and headed downstairs. Basement level. Omega quarters. We each had our own rooms, but we shared a communal bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror and pulled my long black hair into a sleek ponytail. Ice-blue eyes stared back at me—tired, shadowed, rimmed with dark circles. Ten years. Ten years since I’d had one decent night without the nightmares. I changed into a simple black dress. No jewelry. No sparkle. Being unnoticed was my safest weapon. Then I went back upstairs to help the kitchen. They were cooking everything. The finest china. Dishes fit for royalty. Whoever Alpha Josh was, he mattered enough for them to go all out. “Dinner will start soon, Betty,” Clova told me, handing me a silver tray. “Take the champagne and start serving the guests before they sit.” Clova was head omega. Kind. Twenty years in the packhouse. She’d learned the same lesson we all had: Don’t ask why. I nodded and took the tray. As I approached the dining room door, Rose started to lose it. She jumped around in my head, tail wagging so hard I felt pressure behind my eyes. The excitement was dangerous. I needed her to stop before she blew our cover. Rose had hidden for ten years. Everyone believed I was wolfless. To keep her secret, she suppressed herself. The only time she ever surfaced fully was when we trained alone in the forest. “Rose,” I snapped silently, “what is going on? Settle down before you show.” “I know,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry.” That was all. No explanation. Of course. Rose always kept secrets until she decided it was “time.” I clenched my jaw. “Push it down,” I ordered. “Now.” She forced herself calmer. The excitement still hummed under my skin—hot and restless— but she held it back. I pushed through the door. The dining room glowed warm and bright. Laughter. Glass clinks. Expensive perfume. Beta and Gamma families gathered. The Alpha family stood in a circle, talking like they owned the world. I lifted the tray and put on my practiced smile. “Champagne?” “Champagne?” I moved around the room, careful. No eye contact. No attention. No mistakes. But the closer I got to Alpha Frank— the more Rose jittered. My temples throbbed. I was two seconds from telling her to calm the hell down before she ruined everything. Ten years. Ten years we’d convinced them I was nothing. I refused to let today be the day it all collapsed. I handed Alpha Frank his glass. He took it without looking at me. Then I turned to the man standing on his right. The guest of honor. Alpha Josh. I lifted a glass toward him. “Sir, would you—” I looked up. And the world stopped. Silver eyes. Moonlight-sharp. Rimmed with thick lashes that would make any girl jealous. My heart skipped. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Light stubble, a razor-cut jaw, full lips turned down in confusion—like he was staring at something impossible. He didn’t take the glass. He just… looked at me. And I drowned. Those silver eyes locked onto mine like my life depended on it. Like they were pulling something out of my soul. Rose went wild again. Joy. Hunger. Possession. I felt her clawing at my ribs. I almost lost it. Then someone cleared their throat behind me. A warning. A reminder of who I was supposed to be. I dropped my gaze instantly. My meek omega voice snapped back into place. “Sir… would you like a glass of champagne?” He still didn’t speak. He took the glass. His fingers brushed mine—barely. And a shock of tingles lit up at my fingertips, rushed up my arm, and slid down my spine. I jerked back like I’d been burned. Without another word, I turned and walked fast—too fast—back toward the kitchen. My heart was trying to break out of my chest. I shut the door and pressed my back against it, breathing hard. In. Out. In. I was just starting to calm down— when Rose dropped the bomb. “So,” she purred in my mind, tail practically wagging through my skull. “What did you think of our mate?” JOSH I didn’t want to come to Opal Sun today. Not even a little. But being Head Alpha means you don’t get to stay comfortable. You don’t get to ignore a pack that needs you—especially when their Alpha is about to step down. Alpha Frank isn’t a bad leader. He’s just… scared. Scared of handing his pack to the wrong man. And I can’t blame him. I met Tracy’s mate, Dexter, earlier. The moment I shook his hand, my instincts crawled. Wrong. Greedy. The kind of male who smiles while planning how to take more than he’s owed. Frank doesn’t have sons. So his “only option” is the male who gives me a bad feeling. That alone is enough to make me want to finish this visit fast and leave. And I know what Frank is hoping. He’s hoping the Goddess will be generous. He’s hoping his middle daughter, Jewel, will be my mate. I can feel it in the way he watches me. In the way he keeps nudging her closer. Thankfully, the Goddess has other plans. Because at twenty-five, I still haven’t met the one woman made for me. Storm whimpers in my head at the thought. He hates the empty space where she should be. “Trust me,” I tell him silently. “I want her too.” The formal dining room is full. Alpha family. Beta and Gamma families. Polite laughter. Small talk. Waiting for dinner. I’m pretending to listen to Frank and Beta Terrence tell some story I don’t care about. All I can think is— After dinner, I’ll pull Frank aside. We’ll talk business. I’ll solve what I can. And I’ll go home. That’s the plan. Then it happens. A shiver slides up my spine. Not cold. Presence. Strong enough to make Storm’s head lift inside me. I turn. And my world narrows to one thing. Ice-blue eyes. Stunning. Clear. Lethal. For a second, the room disappears. It’s just her. A girl holding a champagne tray like she’s trying not to exist. Hair the color of night, pulled back tight. Long lashes as dark as her hair. A heart-shaped face. High cheekbones. Full lips. Skin like cream. She isn’t dressed like the others. Simple black dress. Plain heels. Omega. Servant. The kind of girl this room looks through. Except I can’t look through her. I can’t look away. Storm shifts inside me, unsettled. The sound of Alpha Frank clearing his throat snaps the spell. I realize everyone is watching me watching her. As if she is the one who did something wrong. Her voice is soft when she asks, “Sir, would you like a glass of champagne?” I take it. But I don’t just take it. My fingers graze hers. Barely. A brush. And heat sparks across my hand like a live wire. My breath catches hard enough to hurt. She tenses too. Like she felt it. Like her body understood something her mind refused to say. Then she turns on her heel and walks away fast. Too fast. Like she’s running from the thing she just triggered. I stare after her until the door swings closed behind her. Storm’s voice is rough in my mind. Confused. “Josh…” “Is she ours?” I ask him. Storm hesitates. “I don’t know,” he admits, miserable. “I didn’t sense a wolf.” My chest tightens. Wolfless. Omega. An impossible pairing for a Head Alpha. And she looked young—around eighteen. If she hasn’t surfaced by now… She might never. I tell myself to let it go. I tell myself she isn’t mine. But her eyes stay burned behind my eyelids. Every time I blink, I see that ice-blue stare. Frank chuckles awkwardly, eager to smooth the moment. “Sorry about that, Alpha Josh. Betty is one of our more awkward omegas, considering she doesn’t have a wolf.” Betty. A name that doesn’t fit her face. It sounds small. And it makes something in me go still. “Has she never had one,” I ask carefully, “or did something happen to it?” I shouldn’t ask. I know I shouldn’t. Because questions are interest. And interest turns into attention. And attention turns into… complications. But the words are already out. Frank answers like it’s nothing. “As far as we know, she’s never had one. She came here about ten years ago—no parents. Said they were killed in a rogue attack. She had nowhere else to go. We took her in until her wolf surfaced… but it never did. So we let her stay. She’s worked the packhouse ever since.” Ten years. No parents. Rogue attack. Basement life. Service work. A girl with eyes like a queen, living like a shadow. My jaw tightens. I nod once—too neutral. Too controlled. I don’t want anyone to see I care. Because the second they think I care, they’ll start using it. Dinner starts. I force myself through it. Smiles. Polite conversation. Boring food I don’t taste. And Betty doesn’t come back. Not once. No flash of black hair. No ice-blue eyes. Nothing. Storm is restless. So am I. By the time dinner ends, my plan has changed without me agreeing to it. I should meet with Frank tonight. I should finish this and leave. But I can’t leave. Not yet. Not with that girl lodged under my skin like a thorn. So I make an excuse. “Let’s meet tomorrow morning,” I tell Frank. “We’ll need the whole day for discussions.” He looks relieved. Grateful. He offers rooms for me and the warriors I brought. And of course— Jewel is the one who shows us. She walks too close. Talks too softly. She knows what her father wants. “Here is your room, Alpha,” she purrs. “Mine is on the next floor if you need anything.” That tone. I’ve heard it a hundred times. Female ambition disguised as sweetness. Before tonight, maybe I would’ve noticed she was pretty. Strawberry-blonde hair. Green eyes. Curves in all the right places. Tonight, she’s just… noise. “Thank you,” I say flatly. “I’ll retire for the night.” I open my door. I don’t look back. And when she lingers in the hall, I shut the door in her face. Hard. Clear. Final. Because I’m not interested. Not in her. Not in anyone— when all I can see is ice-blue eyes and black hair and a hand that sparked when mine touched it. I toss my duffel onto a chair. The room is plain. Clean. Temporary. It should be easy to sleep here. It isn’t. I shower, hoping hot water will burn the restlessness out of my bones. It doesn’t. I lie down. Storm paces inside me. My mind keeps dragging me back to the dining room door. To the way she ran. To the way her body tensed like she recognized something. I try to force my eyes shut. Minutes pass. An hour. Nothing. Finally I give up. I pull on sweatpants and head downstairs. Outside. Air. The moment I step into the open night, my chest loosens. Rain falls light and steady. The forest smells clean. Alive. I breathe in, deep. Better. Less trapped. Storm pushes forward—restless, demanding. I break into a run toward the treeline. And when I reach it, I strip off my clothes and let Storm take over. Bones shift. Fur ripples. The world expands. We run. Fast. Hard. Rain slicking our coat. Mud under paws. Trees blurring past. Then— a scent cuts through everything. The most incredible thing I’ve ever smelled. Forest after fresh rain. And something sweeter under it. Honey. Warm. Addictive. It hits my bloodstream like poison and medicine at the same time. My mouth floods. Storm growls low in my chest—hungry, possessive, certain. Our paws change direction without thought. Our body chooses. “I think I smell our mate,” Storm says. And my heart, even in a wolf’s chest, slams once— like a door locking. BETTY / ISABELLE Rain hit my skin like cold fingers. It helped me breathe. The forest was unusually quiet—every little creature tucked away from the downpour. No chirps. No rustling. Just water and my pulse. In. Out. The air tasted like wet earth and pine. Each inhale loosened the fist around my chest. Because if I stayed inside that packhouse one more second— I would’ve cracked. The moment Rose said the words—our mate—panic slammed into me like a wall. My lungs tightened. The ceiling felt lower. The hallways felt narrower. And the worst part? He was right there. A room away. Alpha Josh. My mate. The thing I’m not ready for. So I lied. “I’m not feeling well,” I told the other omegas. Then I ran. Out the back. Past the stairs. Past the rules. Past the eyes that always watched. Straight into the rain. Straight into the only place that didn’t feel like a cage. Goddess. Why me? “I’m sorry,” Rose whispered for what had to be the millionth time. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that.” “It’s fine,” I forced out. “I would’ve found out eventually.” I didn’t have the energy to soften it. Normally I would’ve soothed her. Normally I would’ve held her guilt like it was mine. But right now my insides were shaking. I never imagined I’d meet him here. Not while I was trapped in this life. Not while I was still wearing the mask. Because that’s what I am in Opal Sun. A nobody. A wolfless omega. A girl who keeps her head down and her mouth shut. And the only good thing—the only thing—was this: He didn’t recognize me. Not as his mate. Not as anything. He looked at me like I was strange. Like I was… nothing. It should’ve hurt. Instead it felt like relief. Because if he had recognized me— If the bond had snapped tight— I might have lost control right there in front of everyone. And I cannot lose control. Not once. Not now. My life is one long storm. But sitting in the rain makes my thoughts sharpen. Clearer. Colder. It reminds me who I am. And who I’m pretending to be. I’m eighteen. A shifter princess hiding in a random pack like a stain no one wants to notice. I have been hiding my entire life. From the moment Rose and I were born, my parents hid us from the world. No announcement. No celebration. No “heir is born” feast. Only secrecy. Because there were people who would’ve used us the second they knew we existed. And they were right to be afraid. Rose and I were… special. Born under a full moon. In the middle of a rainstorm. The Goddess came to my parents herself. And she named me. The Luna of Rain. The Queen of Storms. No one else had powers like ours. Rain. Sleet. Snow. Lightning. Wind. Beautiful. Deadly. And “deadly” is exactly why we were hidden. Because power is never safe. Power is bait. Ten years ago, I went from a palace to nothing in minutes. One moment: my royal parents alive, training me to rule. The next: blood and screaming and a world ripped open. All because of one traitor with a hungry heart. Jackson. A man who wanted what was never meant to be his. My throne. My kingdom. My mother. My father. They died. And I lived. And the guilt sits in my throat like a stone. I will not stop. I will not “move on.” I will not let their deaths be for nothing. I will take back what was stolen. I will make them proud. That is the point. That is the only point. So where does a mate fit into a life like mine? He doesn’t. He’s a complication. A weakness. A leash. Because Jackson and his rogues won’t stop until I’m gone. And they won’t just come for me. They will come for anyone I love. Anyone I hesitate for. Anyone I would trade my safety to protect. And there is no weakness bigger than a mate. The bond turns you soft in places you can’t afford softness. It makes you care when caring can get you killed. I feel my mind trying to drag me under. Dark thoughts pulling at my ankles. Grief opening its mouth. It would be so easy to sink. So easy to let the cold swallow me whole. But I don’t. I can’t. Not after everything. Not when I’ve already survived ten years of pretending. Rose is quiet now, curled small inside me. Still guilty. Still wanting him. I can feel it. That ache. That longing. But longing doesn’t get us a throne back. Longing doesn’t kill Jackson. Longing doesn’t keep us alive. I lift my face to the rain and let it wash over my lashes. Let it sting. Let it wake me up. Because this is my reality: My mate exists. And he is powerful. And he is close. And if I’m not careful— he won’t just find me. He’ll claim me. And the moment that happens… my life stops being mine. So I breathe. I steady. I harden. I don’t get to fall apart. I don’t get to be a girl who wants. I have to be a queen who takes. And I will. I will keep fighting. No matter what the Goddess threw in my path. No matter who she tied to my soul. I will keep fighting. BETTY / ISABELLE I push myself off the ground. My fingers flick. The rain over the clearing… stops. Silence drops with it. I can’t sit here and drown in my own head. Self-loathing won’t save me. Training will. Anything but thinking about Alpha Josh. “Let’s train, Rose.” Rose hesitates. Cautious. Always cautious when we’re exposed. “Are you sure? You know it takes concentration.” “I’m sure.” I listen first. Head tilted. Breathing slow. No footsteps. No voices. No чуж—no strangers. Just the forest and the steady drip of water off leaves. Then I call her forward. Rose surges up through me like warmth. Bones shift. Fur spills across skin. In a heartbeat I’m on all fours, paws sinking into damp earth. Sapphire-blue. Glowing under moonlight. Our fur catches silver when the moon hits it—like raindrops trapped in it, blessed and cruel at the same time. When we run, that silver turns into something else. A storm. “What do you want to train?” Rose asks, tail flicking. “I’ve been wanting to try summoning a mini tornado.” I huff a laugh through my nose. “Ambitious.” “It’ll take a lot,” she admits. “But we can do it.” We can. We’ve been learning control since I was a child. In the beginning my emotions ruled the sky— I cried, it rained. I panicked, lightning snapped. By five, I could summon rain with a flick instead of a breakdown. Control wasn’t a gift. It was survival. Tonight the moon is high and bright, the clouds thin. A perfect night to pull strength straight from it. I brace. Paws digging in. I focus on wind— and Rose freezes. “I hear someone.” My blood turns cold. Rose lifts her nose. And then it hits me. A scent. So intoxicating it steals my breath. Forest after thunder. Wet earth and crushed pine— and pure male musk underneath. Heavy. Hot. Possessive. My mouth waters. My body leans toward it before I decide to move. I want to run. I want to bury my face in that scent until I forget my own name. Rose panics in my skull. “It’s our mate,” she snaps. “If we can smell him, he can smell us.” My pulse spikes. Too close. Too soon. Rose is already moving us—fast, urgent. “I’m shifting back. You—summon rain. Now. Wash us.” Less than a second later, I’m back on two feet. Hands shaking as I drag my clothes on. The scent is stronger now. Closer. He’s coming. I force the sky to obey. Rain slams down in sheets. Cold and hard, drenching me instantly—soaking my dress, plastering fabric to skin. It should feel miserable. It doesn’t. Rain is my safe place. Rain is the one thing that’s always listened to me. Rose retreats deep, deep inside. Gone. Hidden. Wolfless. A lie that’s kept me alive for ten years. I grit my teeth as water runs down my throat. “I thought you wanted him to know,” I snap inside my head. “You’ve been begging for him for years.” “The time isn’t right,” Rose answers, clipped. Of course. Always on her schedule. “Why can I smell him now,” I hiss, “but not earlier in the dining room?” “I blocked his mate scent,” she says. “So you wouldn’t freak out and run before you even got to look at him.” I roll my eyes, but my heart is hammering. Because she’s right. If I’d smelled him in that room— I would’ve shattered. The rain pounds harder, washing the clearing clean. Washing me clean. Washing her clean. But the scent… That scent still clings to the air like a promise. Then the bushes across from me move. A shape steps out of the dark. A wolf. Massive. Gray—deep charcoal, like storm clouds stacked thick in the sky. He fills the clearing with presence alone. My breath catches. I should look afraid. I don’t. I’m too busy staring at him like my body recognizes him before my mind dares to. He’s huge. Not quite as big as my father’s wolf was—midnight-black, terrifying— but close. And something about him is… inevitable. He turns. Walks back into the trees. For a heartbeat, disappointment pinches my chest. Why is he leaving— Then he returns. Human this time. Sweatpants. No shirt. Rain glosses him like oil. And my brain forgets how to function. Rose’s voice pops up like a wicked little devil from deep inside me. “Damn,” she breathes. “Our mate is hot.” I should scoff. I can’t. Because—fuck—she’s right. He’s carved. Hard muscle in all the right places. An eight-pack that flexes when he moves. Rain drops tracking down his chest, caught in the lines of tattoo ink that runs over his arms and across his torso. The water slides down— over his stomach— and disappears beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Right above that sharp V that makes my mouth go dry. “Holy shit,” I whisper. Not to Rose. To the universe. To the Goddess who thought it was funny to hand me a temptation shaped like a man. His dark hair is shorter on the sides, longer on top, wet and falling forward. It shadows his eyes. Silver eyes. Those same silver eyes. And he’s looking at me now. Not politely. Not casually. Like he’s measuring me. Like he’s already decided I’m interesting. His mouth curves—slow, knowing. A smirk. He caught me staring. And I know—because I can feel it—he’s doing the same thing to me. His gaze drags. Down my soaked dress. The fabric clinging to my ribs. My waist. My thighs. Rain makes my clothes a second skin. And his eyes don’t look away from it. “Out here alone?” he asks. His voice is deep. Low. It hits my spine like a touch. “Don’t you know the forest can be dangerous at night?” The words sound like a warning. The tone sounds like a claim. I lift my chin and give him a smile I don’t fully feel. “Don’t worry,” I say. “I can take care of myself.” His smirk deepens. “Is that right?” He takes a few slow steps closer. Not rushed. Not aggressive. Worse. Controlled. Like he knows I’ll stay still and let him close the distance. I force my hands to my hips. Cock my hip out like I’m not one breath away from losing my mind. “Well,” I say lightly, “I could… until the big bad wolf showed up.” I let my gaze flick down his body once, openly this time. If he’s going to stare, I will too. Then I tilt my head. “The real question is—what are you doing out here?” His eyes flash. For a split second, they glow—silver turning brighter. His wolf is right there under his skin. Watching. Listening. Owning. “I smelled something,” he says. His voice drops even lower. “It pulled me out here.” He looks around the clearing. Sharp. Searching. “And then…” His gaze snaps back to me. “…it disappeared.” A chill runs through me despite the rain. He smelled Rose. He smelled us. He smelled the bond before I washed it away. And the way he’s looking at me now— he doesn’t believe it simply “disappeared.” He believes it’s hiding. My throat tightens. Any normal girl would blurt it out. I’m your mate. Any normal girl would crave the relief of saying it. But my life isn’t normal. My life is a trap with teeth. Jackson and his rogues are still out there. Still hunting. Still waiting for one mistake. And a mate is the biggest weakness a girl like me can have. A bond is a leash someone else can grab. A mate is a target painted in blood. So I keep my face smooth. Keep my smile lazy. Keep my voice teasing. “Maybe you just imagined it,” I say. His eyes narrow slightly. Not amused. Interested. Predatory. “Maybe,” he murmurs. Another step. Closer. Rain sliding down his jaw. Down his throat. He stops just far enough away that he isn’t touching me— but close enough I can feel his heat through the cold air. Close enough that my body leans forward like it wants the contact. The bond tugs. A slow, aching pull right behind my ribs. He inhales. Once. Deep. Like he’s tasting me. Like he’s committing my scent to memory. And my stomach flips, because I realize— I might have washed away Rose. But I can’t wash away me. Not completely. Not from him. His gaze locks on mine. Silver on ice-blue. His smirk fades into something darker. Quieter. Dangerous. “You’re not from Opal Sun,” he says softly. Not a question. A statement. My pulse stutters. I force a laugh. “And what makes you think that?” His eyes drop to my throat. To the place a mark would go. Then back up. “Because you’re standing in my forest in the rain,” he says, voice like velvet over steel. “And you’re not afraid.” My skin prickles. I should deny harder. I should back away. I don’t. I tell myself I’m only here for a moment. That he’ll leave tomorrow after his meeting with Frank. That fate will put distance between us again. That I can have a little fun and then disappear. That’s what I tell myself. But Storms don’t ask permission before they hit. And neither do mates. I lift my chin and hold his stare. “Maybe I just like the rain,” I say. His mouth twitches—almost a smile. Almost. Then his eyes sharpen again. And the way he looks at me makes my body ache in a way that feels brand new and far too old at the same time. He leans in just slightly. Not touching. Not yet. But close enough that his words brush my lips like a threat. “You’re hiding something,” he murmurs. My breath catches. Rain pounds around us. My soaked dress clings tighter. And my wolf—buried deep—shifts once in panic. Because I feel it. The bond pulling. The truth pushing up. And the terrifying part is— I’m not sure I’m the one in control anymore. BETTY / ISABELLE I should’ve run. The moment I realized he’d followed the scent into the forest, I should’ve vanished into the rain and never looked back. But the bond doesn’t care what I should do. It pulls. It aches. It drags my attention to him like a hook in my ribs. I can still taste his scent on the back of my tongue—storm-wet earth and male heat. And the worst part? It’s gone for him. Rose washed it away. So now he’s here with questions. And I’m here with a secret that could get us killed. He stands in front of me like the night made him. Head Alpha. All muscle and dominance and silver eyes that don’t blink enough. Rain beads on his bare chest and slides down the ink on his skin. It drips from his hair. From his jaw. From the lines of his body I should not be staring at. I am staring anyway. Because my body is a traitor. Because he’s mine—even if I refuse to say it out loud. “Storm,” I hear him think it more than say it. “Could she be hiding her wolf?” Rose answers from deep inside me like she’s biting her own tongue. Impossible. Good. Let him believe that. Let him believe I’m just Betty. Just an awkward, wolfless omega in a black dress. Just a girl the pack looks through. I can wear that lie. I’ve worn worse. He takes a slow step closer. Not rushed. Controlled. Predatory in the quiet way that makes you realize you’re being cornered and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Rain makes my dress cling to me. I feel his gaze catch on it. Track it. Drag down my body like a hand. I hate that heat pools low in my stomach. I hate that my nipples tighten from cold and from him. I keep my face blank. I keep my voice light. He doesn’t. His eyes flick over my throat—like he’s picturing where a mark would go. Then he speaks. “Since I told you why I’m out here,” he says, low, “it’s your turn.” Not a request. A turn. A rule. A man used to being obeyed. I lift my chin. Give him a shrug like I don’t feel the pressure in the air. “Training.” One word. A hook. His brows lift, just slightly. “Training.” He repeats it like he doesn’t believe I’m allowed to own that word. Then his mouth hardens. “I wasn’t aware omegas were allowed to train in this pack.” Omega. He says it casually. Like it’s a fact. Like it’s a label I should accept. Something sharp slices through me—fast and familiar. The basement. The bared necks. The eyes that judge. The rules that press you down until you forget you can stand. For one second, sadness flashes over my face before I can stop it. Then I crush it. I replace it with something harder. Defiant. “They aren’t,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to defend myself.” I step into my own space. “I wasn’t kidding. I can take care of myself.” His gaze changes. The meek omega from the dining room disappears in his mind. He’s looking at the girl underneath. And it turns him on. I can smell it in the subtle shift of his scent. Approval. Interest. Heat. He cracks his neck slowly, like he’s settling into a fight. “All right,” he says. Then, darker— “Show me.” My heart thuds once. Not fear. Anticipation. I’ve been careful for ten years. Always smaller. Always softer. Always invisible. And now my mate is standing in front of me, telling me to prove myself. I should refuse. I should run. Instead, my mouth curves. Just a little. Like this is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. He doesn’t understand who he’s challenging. He doesn’t understand what I am. Good. Let him underestimate me. I don’t even take a stance. I just stand there. Waiting. Letting him decide to be the first one to cross the line. He moves. Fast. Alpha-fast. A blur in the rain. His fist shoots toward my shoulder—light enough not to injure, quick enough to land. I step aside. Barely. His knuckles cut air. I hear his breath hitch. I let my smile sharpen. “Is that the best you’ve got, Alpha?” Mischief flashes in his eyes. Then it turns into focus. Predator focus. He reaches for me—hands going for my shoulders. I slip away again. Blink-fast. He misses. He tries again. Miss. Again. Miss. His frustration builds in the space between us like thunder. He starts throwing punches, kicks—faster, harder, explainable only by strength. I don’t hit back. Not once. I let him chase. Let him test. Let him think he’s getting closer. Because I’m watching him too. Measuring. Learning. And because part of me likes the way he looks when he’s hungry. Then he finally catches me. A sudden snake of movement. His hand shoots out and closes around my throat. Not crushing. Not enough to block air. Just enough to remind me who has the power here. Just enough to say: Mine. My body goes still. Not because I’m scared. Because the second his skin touches mine— electricity explodes. A rush of tingles slams through my neck, across my collarbones, down my spine. My breath breaks. His breath breaks too. His eyes widen like he felt it—felt it the way I did. For a second, the forest disappears. Rain. Trees. Night. None of it exists. It’s just his hand on my throat. And the bond screaming under my skin. Rose stirs deep inside me, panicked. Don’t— But it’s too late. Storm snarls inside him. I hear it in the way his chest expands, in the way his pupils sharpen. His eyes flash brighter silver. And then— the scent hits me. His arousal. Raw. Male. Immediate. It rolls off him like heat. And my own body answers it before my brain can. A deep ache blooms low in my belly. My thighs tense. My nipples harden painfully under wet fabric. I hate myself for it. I love myself for it. Because it means the bond isn’t one-sided. Because it means he’s losing control too. He growls out loud. Not words. A sound. Claiming. His grip tightens a fraction— and I feel the exact moment his restraint snaps. He leans in. Toward my mouth. Toward my lips. Toward the place he can ruin me with one touch. I can see it in his face. He isn’t thinking. He’s taking. I move. Fast. Sharp. I drop my arms, twist, and rip free. If he’d been in his right mind, he’d have held me. But he’s not. He’s distracted by my scent, my taste, my reaction—by the bond pulling him forward like gravity. So he loses me. For one breath. And that breath saves my entire life. I stumble back. Rain slapping my cheeks. Heart hammering. He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear dirty thoughts. Like he’s trying to grab control with both hands. I watch him do it. And for the first time, I realize something that should terrify me. He’s strong. But he’s not immune. Not to me. Not to this. He comes for me again. Hands reaching. I slip away. Again. Again. Again. He’s fast. I’m faster. Lightning. A ghost. And still—he doesn’t stop. Because he’s an Alpha. Because he’s used to winning. Because something in him has already decided I belong to him—even if his mind refuses to say the word mate. We circle, breath fogging in the rain. Then I see it. The smallest mistake. His weight shifts wrong for half a second. And I take it. I dodge his strike. Grab his arm. Twist. Step in. Use his momentum. And throw him over my shoulder. Hard. He hits the ground with a wet thud that shakes the clearing. For a heartbeat, everything is silent. Then I lean over him, rain sliding down my face like tears I don’t have time to cry. My eyes sparkle. Not fear. Joy. “Oops,” I giggle. “Hope I didn’t hurt you.” His stare is shocked. Breath rough. “How the fuck…?” he rasps. I tilt my head. “Don’t feel bad. People always doubt the little wolfless omega.” I let my smile widen. “If it makes you feel better… I knew you weren’t giving me your all.” I offer him my hand. He takes it. And the second our skin meets— the tingles strike again. We both freeze. Because now we both know. This isn’t random. This isn’t nothing. This is something that keeps happening no matter how many rules we hide behind. He stands, still staring at me like I just rewrote the laws of his world. “Well,” he mutters, voice rough, “you had no problem making me eat my words for calling you an omega.” I shrug. Casual. Like I didn’t just flip the Head Alpha like a rag doll. “It’s no big deal,” I say. “That’s what I am.” His jaw tightens. He doesn’t like that answer. Not because it’s untrue. Because it makes me sound small. And he’s starting to realize I’m not. He watches me for a long beat. Then his gaze goes distant—glazed like he’s talking to something inside himself. To Storm. I can tell. Because I’ve done the same thing with Rose. I can’t help myself. I tease him. “Is the big bad alpha wolf scolding you for getting your ass kicked by a little omega?” His laugh bursts out—warm, surprised. “Actually,” he says, “he keeps raving about how amazing you are.” Something bright sparks in my chest. I shouldn’t like that. I do. My mouth opens before my brain catches up. “Can you bring him out?” I ask, honest for half a second. “I never really get to associate with other wolves.” The second the words leave me— I remember where I am. Who I am. What I’m supposed to be. My body reacts before my mind even finishes the thought. My eyes drop. My neck tilts automatically. Submission. Habit. Training. A reflex burned into me by ten years of survival. “I’m sorry, Alpha Josh,” I whisper. “I forgot my manners. I shouldn’t have thrown you, or spoken to you that way. Please forgive me.” The silence that follows is suffocating. Because I can feel his shock. I can feel his anger—not at me. At the fact that I even know how to do that. At the fact that someone taught my body to apologize for existing. I hate myself in that moment. Hate the way my spine knows how to fold. Hate the way the word Alpha still has claws in my throat. Then he moves. One step. Two. Close enough that his heat smothers the cold rain. His finger slides under my chin. Lifts. Forces my face up. Forces my eyes to meet his. The tingles flare again—faint but undeniable. His voice drops. Not gentle. Controlled. Commanding. “Don’t ever look down,” he says. A beat. “Not at me.” My pulse stutters. He holds my chin like I’m something he owns. Like he’s rewriting my instincts by force. “I suggested sparring,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “You were a breath of fresh air tonight.” My throat tightens. He keeps going, each word tightening the invisible collar. “Every day people treat me like Head Alpha.” “Every day they fear me.” “Tonight you didn’t.” His thumb feels like fire against my skin. “So you don’t apologize,” he says. “You don’t submit.” “Not because you’re allowed.” His eyes sharpen. “Because I said so.” My breath leaves me in a shaky exhale. “Understood?” The question isn’t a question. It’s a leash. I swallow hard. “Yes… Alpha Josh.” The way his name tastes on my tongue is dangerous. It makes his eyes darken. It makes his scent spike—hotter, thicker. It makes my body betray me all over again. And I see it happen. I see the exact moment the image hits him— me on my back, rain on skin, his mouth at my throat, my voice breaking on his name. His pupils blow wider. His jaw clenches. He leans in. Slow. Like he’s fighting himself and losing. I can’t help it. My eyes flutter closed. My lips part. My body tilts toward him like it’s been waiting for permission. Rose screams inside me. No— But my skin is already humming. His breath brushes my mouth. His hand tightens under my chin. And Storm’s growl rolls through him so deep it vibrates my bones. He’s about to kiss me. About to claim me. About to ruin everything I’ve built— And I realize, with a cold, sinking certainty: I can hide my wolf. I can hide my crown. But I can’t hide the way my body answers him. Not anymore. Not when he’s this close. Not when the bond is pulling so hard it hurts. And the scariest part is— I don’t know if I can stop myself this time.
หลังจากการทรยศอย่างโหดร้าย เฮเซลสูญเสียการแต่งงาน ลูก และศักดิ์ศรีของเธอไป ตกสู่ความสิ้นหวังนี้ ทำให้เธอก็ได้กลับมาพบกับอีวานอีกครั้ง ชายผู้ทรงอำนาจที่ช่วยให้เธอทวงคืนอาชีพ คุณค่าในตัวเอง และควบคุมชะตาของตัวเองได้อีกครั้ง
قبل خمسة عشر عاماً، كان يمسح السيارات في الشوارع، ولم يكن في جيبه سوى ثلاثة دولارات 🧹 أعطاه شخص غريب زجاجة ماء وقال له: لا ينبغي أن تعيش هذه الحياة 💧 احتفظ بملامح وجهه في ذاكرته. بعد خمسة عشر عاماً، عاد إليه كرائد أعمال في مجال الطيران والفضاء ✈️ لكن ما وجده كان شيخاً طُرد من منزله من قبل أبنائه بالتبني، ولا يستطيع دفع تكاليف علاجه الطبي 😢 وقف أمام باب الشقة المتداعية صامتاً لفترة طويلة، ثم اتصل هاتفياً: "اشترِ تلك الشركة، وأنجز الأمر اليوم" 📞 بعد ثلاثة أيام، دخل الأبناء بالتبني قاعة الاجتماع، ورأوا الرجل يرفع عينيه ببطء من المقعد الرئيسي 🖤 "لا تتذكرونني؟ لا بأس، سأجعلكم تتذكرون شيئاً فشيئاً"#GoodShort #خيانة #وريثة_سرية #انتقام
قبل خمسة عشر عاماً، كان يمسح السيارات في الشوارع، ولم يكن في جيبه سوى ثلاثة دولارات 🧹 أعطاه شخص غريب زجاجة ماء وقال له: لا ينبغي أن تعيش هذه الحياة 💧 احتفظ بملامح وجهه في ذاكرته. بعد خمسة عشر عاماً، عاد إليه كرائد أعمال في مجال الطيران والفضاء ✈️ لكن ما وجده كان شيخاً طُرد من منزله من قبل أبنائه بالتبني، ولا يستطيع دفع تكاليف علاجه الطبي 😢 وقف أمام باب الشقة المتداعية صامتاً لفترة طويلة، ثم اتصل هاتفياً: "اشترِ تلك الشركة، وأنجز الأمر اليوم" 📞 بعد ثلاثة أيام، دخل الأبناء بالتبني قاعة الاجتماع، ورأوا الرجل يرفع عينيه ببطء من المقعد الرئيسي 🖤 "لا تتذكرونني؟ لا بأس، سأجعلكم تتذكرون شيئاً فشيئاً"#GoodShort #خيانة #وريثة_سرية #انتقام
قبل خمسة عشر عاماً، كان يمسح السيارات في الشوارع، ولم يكن في جيبه سوى ثلاثة دولارات 🧹 أعطاه شخص غريب زجاجة ماء وقال له: لا ينبغي أن تعيش هذه الحياة 💧 احتفظ بملامح وجهه في ذاكرته. بعد خمسة عشر عاماً، عاد إليه كرائد أعمال في مجال الطيران والفضاء ✈️ لكن ما وجده كان شيخاً طُرد من منزله من قبل أبنائه بالتبني، ولا يستطيع دفع تكاليف علاجه الطبي 😢 وقف أمام باب الشقة المتداعية صامتاً لفترة طويلة، ثم اتصل هاتفياً: "اشترِ تلك الشركة، وأنجز الأمر اليوم" 📞 بعد ثلاثة أيام، دخل الأبناء بالتبني قاعة الاجتماع، ورأوا الرجل يرفع عينيه ببطء من المقعد الرئيسي 🖤 "لا تتذكرونني؟ لا بأس، سأجعلكم تتذكرون شيئاً فشيئاً"#GoodShort #خيانة #وريثة_سرية #انتقام
An invincible fight king hides his identity, living life as a janitor, but shocking everyone with his true power when confronted with challenges.
👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama
หลังจากการทรยศอย่างโหดร้าย เฮเซลสูญเสียการแต่งงาน ลูก และศักดิ์ศรีของเธอไป ตกสู่ความสิ้นหวังนี้ ทำให้เธอก็ได้กลับมาพบกับอีวานอีกครั้ง ชายผู้ทรงอำนาจที่ช่วยให้เธอทวงคืนอาชีพ คุณค่าในตัวเอง และควบคุมชะตาของตัวเองได้อีกครั้ง
An invincible fight king hides his identity, living life as a janitor, but shocking everyone with his true power when confronted with challenges.
👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama
Full uncut episode inside 🎬 Click NOW before it’s removed 👉 The twist will shock you!
When Dominic Vittori, the Don of the Vittori crime family, was ambushed, my husband Lucian Carvalho—their top hitman—took all Dominic's personal bodyguards to rescue his first love Liliana Rossi, who'd lied about being kidnapped by a rival clan. I didn't press the emergency call button in my hand. Instead, I became his shield. Eight months pregnant. Flesh and blood. And I gave him the seconds he needed to run. In my past life, I'd pressed that button. Lucian dropped Liliana mid-rescue and rushed back to save the Don. His successful rescue got him promoted to the family's head enforcer. But Liliana? No one watching her back. She walked straight into a rival crew's setup. Dead before she hit the ground. On the surface, same old Lucian. Ice cold. All business. However, on the day I went into labor, he threw me into an abandoned family freezer warehouse. Pain had me twisted up like a pretzel. I asked him why. Lucian looked at me. No heat. No rage. Just ice. "Twenty guards on the Don. Twenty. And you dragged me back." His voice never rose. "You didn't hit that button. Liliana's still breathing. So here's how this works. Every second of pain she endured, I'm taking out of you. Tenfold." In the end, my unborn baby and I froze to death in that twenty-degree-below-zero vault. Then I opened my eyes. Same day. Same ambush. Same sh*t show. ... "Cover the Don! Now!" I screamed. Black tactical gear. Everywhere. My feet backpedaled before my brain even caught up. Then it clicked. I was back. Back to the exact second everything went to hell. Back to the moment I could flip the whole godd*mn script. That freezer flashed behind my eyes. I hurled the panic button like it was on fire. I threw myself forward. Took the hit meant for the bleeding Don. My body. His shield. I watched his face shift. Confusion. Then something else. Gratitude. Disbelief. Like he couldn't process what I'd just done. I knew I had made the right choice this time. My husband, Lucian Carvalho, was the family's top hitman. He's glued to the Don's side. Yet today? Bullets flying. Don bleeding out. No Lucian. He was too busy playing therapist to his precious first crush. Liliana Rossi had thrown a tantrum and stormed off, and he'd chased after her like a loyal, obedient puppy. In my previous life, I was scared he would be punished, so I hit the button. After he pulled the Don out? He twisted it. Decided I'd done it for a payday and a title. He tossed me in that freezer he'd rigged. Let me and our kid freeze to death. Premeditated. Since I had gotten a second chance at life, I would never walk that path again. I covered him like my life depended on it. Bullets punched through my flesh. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would crack. Didn't make a sound. Besides the guards my husband had taken, the Don had plenty of others. If I could hold out until backup arrived, I'd survive. The Don knew it too. Reluctant as he was, he had to take cover behind me. I was eight months pregnant. I felt that kid every day. Little kicks. Flutters. Last life, in that freezer, the last thing I heard was his cry, tiny and fading. This stinging pain was worse than the bitter cold ever had. Soon, chaotic footsteps approached, and I heard the Don shouting frantically. "Where the f*ck are the medics?! Get them here! Who is this woman?!" I tried to answer. Just gurgled blood. However, the Don didn't care. He leaned in close to me. One last push. Forced the words out. "Lucian Carvalho's wife." The words scraped out of me. Then the pain swallowed everything. Black. Silent. The doctor wiped cold sweat from his forehead, his voice urgent. "Mrs. Carvalho! Stay with me! You close your eyes now, you don't open them again! Your husband! Your baby! They're waiting!" The Don cut him off. "You saved my life. The Vittori name means something. If you pull through, you'll get the highest honor this family's got. Just hold the line! I sent for Lucian already!" I smiled at that. Weak and bitter. To Lucian, me and the kid inside me—we didn't add up to a single strand of Liliana's precious hair. When I shielded the Don from the hitmen, I already knew the baby in my womb couldn't be saved. As for Lucian, he'd never come. Just then, the man the Don had sent to fetch Lucian rushed back. He dropped heavily to his knees, too afraid to look at the Don. The Don's expression turned to stone, but behind his eyes, a volcano churned. "Where is Lucian?!" Vinci Marco, the family manager, trembled as he spoke. "Mr. Carvalho… he refused. He said… he said stop with the cheap tricks. Stop begging for scraps." In Lucian's mind, pregnant as I was, I wasn't even as important as Liliana. And yet, I was Lucian's legal wife, while Liliana was nothing more than a mistress. One message. From Liliana. Textbook damsel-in-distress. "Help, they've got me!" It reeked of a setup. Didn't matter. Lucian snatched up every guard in sight and bolted. No look back. No thought for the Don bleeding out on the pavement. Just her. Always her. Why would he care now that his worthless wife was injured? If Liliana was his whole world, why the hell did he put a ring on my finger? Rage flooded my chest. More blood came up. The doc braced himself. Looked at the Don. Desperate. "Don, Mrs. Carvalho is too agitated. If she doesn't have someone here—someone she knows, I don't think she's coming back from this." The Don looked at me. Swallowed the rage. He tore a pendant engraved with the family crest from his waist and tossed it to Marco. "You tell him it's not a request. It's my final order. If he values his current position—in this family, in this city, in this life—he'll comply." The Don was beyond pissed. An army of bodyguards on payroll. Not a single one there when the bullets started flying. I'd risked my life to save him, and he couldn't even get my husband to show up. To the supreme ruler of the underworld, this was a massive humiliation. This time, Marco didn't return alone. I cracked my eyes open. More than just my husband standing there. There was another face. One I knew bone-deep from my last life. Liliana's little maid. Mia Potter.
When Dominic Vittori, the Don of the Vittori crime family, was ambushed, my husband Lucian Carvalho—their top hitman—took all Dominic's personal bodyguards to rescue his first love Liliana Rossi, who'd lied about being kidnapped by a rival clan. I didn't press the emergency call button in my hand. Instead, I became his shield. Eight months pregnant. Flesh and blood. And I gave him the seconds he needed to run. In my past life, I'd pressed that button. Lucian dropped Liliana mid-rescue and rushed back to save the Don. His successful rescue got him promoted to the family's head enforcer. But Liliana? No one watching her back. She walked straight into a rival crew's setup. Dead before she hit the ground. On the surface, same old Lucian. Ice cold. All business. However, on the day I went into labor, he threw me into an abandoned family freezer warehouse. Pain had me twisted up like a pretzel. I asked him why. Lucian looked at me. No heat. No rage. Just ice. "Twenty guards on the Don. Twenty. And you dragged me back." His voice never rose. "You didn't hit that button. Liliana's still breathing. So here's how this works. Every second of pain she endured, I'm taking out of you. Tenfold." In the end, my unborn baby and I froze to death in that twenty-degree-below-zero vault. Then I opened my eyes. Same day. Same ambush. Same sh*t show. ... "Cover the Don! Now!" I screamed. Black tactical gear. Everywhere. My feet backpedaled before my brain even caught up. Then it clicked. I was back. Back to the exact second everything went to hell. Back to the moment I could flip the whole godd*mn script. That freezer flashed behind my eyes. I hurled the panic button like it was on fire. I threw myself forward. Took the hit meant for the bleeding Don. My body. His shield. I watched his face shift. Confusion. Then something else. Gratitude. Disbelief. Like he couldn't process what I'd just done. I knew I had made the right choice this time. My husband, Lucian Carvalho, was the family's top hitman. He's glued to the Don's side. Yet today? Bullets flying. Don bleeding out. No Lucian. He was too busy playing therapist to his precious first crush. Liliana Rossi had thrown a tantrum and stormed off, and he'd chased after her like a loyal, obedient puppy. In my previous life, I was scared he would be punished, so I hit the button. After he pulled the Don out? He twisted it. Decided I'd done it for a payday and a title. He tossed me in that freezer he'd rigged. Let me and our kid freeze to death. Premeditated. Since I had gotten a second chance at life, I would never walk that path again. I covered him like my life depended on it. Bullets punched through my flesh. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would crack. Didn't make a sound. Besides the guards my husband had taken, the Don had plenty of others. If I could hold out until backup arrived, I'd survive. The Don knew it too. Reluctant as he was, he had to take cover behind me. I was eight months pregnant. I felt that kid every day. Little kicks. Flutters. Last life, in that freezer, the last thing I heard was his cry, tiny and fading. This stinging pain was worse than the bitter cold ever had. Soon, chaotic footsteps approached, and I heard the Don shouting frantically. "Where the f*ck are the medics?! Get them here! Who is this woman?!" I tried to answer. Just gurgled blood. However, the Don didn't care. He leaned in close to me. One last push. Forced the words out. "Lucian Carvalho's wife." The words scraped out of me. Then the pain swallowed everything. Black. Silent. The doctor wiped cold sweat from his forehead, his voice urgent. "Mrs. Carvalho! Stay with me! You close your eyes now, you don't open them again! Your husband! Your baby! They're waiting!" The Don cut him off. "You saved my life. The Vittori name means something. If you pull through, you'll get the highest honor this family's got. Just hold the line! I sent for Lucian already!" I smiled at that. Weak and bitter. To Lucian, me and the kid inside me—we didn't add up to a single strand of Liliana's precious hair. When I shielded the Don from the hitmen, I already knew the baby in my womb couldn't be saved. As for Lucian, he'd never come. Just then, the man the Don had sent to fetch Lucian rushed back. He dropped heavily to his knees, too afraid to look at the Don. The Don's expression turned to stone, but behind his eyes, a volcano churned. "Where is Lucian?!" Vinci Marco, the family manager, trembled as he spoke. "Mr. Carvalho… he refused. He said… he said stop with the cheap tricks. Stop begging for scraps." In Lucian's mind, pregnant as I was, I wasn't even as important as Liliana. And yet, I was Lucian's legal wife, while Liliana was nothing more than a mistress. One message. From Liliana. Textbook damsel-in-distress. "Help, they've got me!" It reeked of a setup. Didn't matter. Lucian snatched up every guard in sight and bolted. No look back. No thought for the Don bleeding out on the pavement. Just her. Always her. Why would he care now that his worthless wife was injured? If Liliana was his whole world, why the hell did he put a ring on my finger? Rage flooded my chest. More blood came up. The doc braced himself. Looked at the Don. Desperate. "Don, Mrs. Carvalho is too agitated. If she doesn't have someone here—someone she knows, I don't think she's coming back from this." The Don looked at me. Swallowed the rage. He tore a pendant engraved with the family crest from his waist and tossed it to Marco. "You tell him it's not a request. It's my final order. If he values his current position—in this family, in this city, in this life—he'll comply." The Don was beyond pissed. An army of bodyguards on payroll. Not a single one there when the bullets started flying. I'd risked my life to save him, and he couldn't even get my husband to show up. To the supreme ruler of the underworld, this was a massive humiliation. This time, Marco didn't return alone. I cracked my eyes open. More than just my husband standing there. There was another face. One I knew bone-deep from my last life. Liliana's little maid. Mia Potter.
หลังจากการทรยศอย่างโหดร้าย เฮเซลสูญเสียการแต่งงาน ลูก และศักดิ์ศรีของเธอไป ตกสู่ความสิ้นหวังนี้ ทำให้เธอก็ได้กลับมาพบกับอีวานอีกครั้ง ชายผู้ทรงอำนาจที่ช่วยให้เธอทวงคืนอาชีพ คุณค่าในตัวเอง และควบคุมชะตาของตัวเองได้อีกครั้ง
หลังจากการทรยศอย่างโหดร้าย เฮเซลสูญเสียการแต่งงาน ลูก และศักดิ์ศรีของเธอไป ตกสู่ความสิ้นหวังนี้ ทำให้เธอก็ได้กลับมาพบกับอีวานอีกครั้ง ชายผู้ทรงอำนาจที่ช่วยให้เธอทวงคืนอาชีพ คุณค่าในตัวเอง และควบคุมชะตาของตัวเองได้อีกครั้ง
When Dominic Vittori, the Don of the Vittori crime family, was ambushed, my husband Lucian Carvalho—their top hitman—took all Dominic's personal bodyguards to rescue his first love Liliana Rossi, who'd lied about being kidnapped by a rival clan. I didn't press the emergency call button in my hand. Instead, I became his shield. Eight months pregnant. Flesh and blood. And I gave him the seconds he needed to run. In my past life, I'd pressed that button. Lucian dropped Liliana mid-rescue and rushed back to save the Don. His successful rescue got him promoted to the family's head enforcer. But Liliana? No one watching her back. She walked straight into a rival crew's setup. Dead before she hit the ground. On the surface, same old Lucian. Ice cold. All business. However, on the day I went into labor, he threw me into an abandoned family freezer warehouse. Pain had me twisted up like a pretzel. I asked him why. Lucian looked at me. No heat. No rage. Just ice. "Twenty guards on the Don. Twenty. And you dragged me back." His voice never rose. "You didn't hit that button. Liliana's still breathing. So here's how this works. Every second of pain she endured, I'm taking out of you. Tenfold." In the end, my unborn baby and I froze to death in that twenty-degree-below-zero vault. Then I opened my eyes. Same day. Same ambush. Same sh*t show. ... "Cover the Don! Now!" I screamed. Black tactical gear. Everywhere. My feet backpedaled before my brain even caught up. Then it clicked. I was back. Back to the exact second everything went to hell. Back to the moment I could flip the whole godd*mn script. That freezer flashed behind my eyes. I hurled the panic button like it was on fire. I threw myself forward. Took the hit meant for the bleeding Don. My body. His shield. I watched his face shift. Confusion. Then something else. Gratitude. Disbelief. Like he couldn't process what I'd just done. I knew I had made the right choice this time. My husband, Lucian Carvalho, was the family's top hitman. He's glued to the Don's side. Yet today? Bullets flying. Don bleeding out. No Lucian. He was too busy playing therapist to his precious first crush. Liliana Rossi had thrown a tantrum and stormed off, and he'd chased after her like a loyal, obedient puppy. In my previous life, I was scared he would be punished, so I hit the button. After he pulled the Don out? He twisted it. Decided I'd done it for a payday and a title. He tossed me in that freezer he'd rigged. Let me and our kid freeze to death. Premeditated. Since I had gotten a second chance at life, I would never walk that path again. I covered him like my life depended on it. Bullets punched through my flesh. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would crack. Didn't make a sound. Besides the guards my husband had taken, the Don had plenty of others. If I could hold out until backup arrived, I'd survive. The Don knew it too. Reluctant as he was, he had to take cover behind me. I was eight months pregnant. I felt that kid every day. Little kicks. Flutters. Last life, in that freezer, the last thing I heard was his cry, tiny and fading. This stinging pain was worse than the bitter cold ever had. Soon, chaotic footsteps approached, and I heard the Don shouting frantically. "Where the f*ck are the medics?! Get them here! Who is this woman?!" I tried to answer. Just gurgled blood. However, the Don didn't care. He leaned in close to me. One last push. Forced the words out. "Lucian Carvalho's wife." The words scraped out of me. Then the pain swallowed everything. Black. Silent. The doctor wiped cold sweat from his forehead, his voice urgent. "Mrs. Carvalho! Stay with me! You close your eyes now, you don't open them again! Your husband! Your baby! They're waiting!" The Don cut him off. "You saved my life. The Vittori name means something. If you pull through, you'll get the highest honor this family's got. Just hold the line! I sent for Lucian already!" I smiled at that. Weak and bitter. To Lucian, me and the kid inside me—we didn't add up to a single strand of Liliana's precious hair. When I shielded the Don from the hitmen, I already knew the baby in my womb couldn't be saved. As for Lucian, he'd never come. Just then, the man the Don had sent to fetch Lucian rushed back. He dropped heavily to his knees, too afraid to look at the Don. The Don's expression turned to stone, but behind his eyes, a volcano churned. "Where is Lucian?!" Vinci Marco, the family manager, trembled as he spoke. "Mr. Carvalho… he refused. He said… he said stop with the cheap tricks. Stop begging for scraps." In Lucian's mind, pregnant as I was, I wasn't even as important as Liliana. And yet, I was Lucian's legal wife, while Liliana was nothing more than a mistress. One message. From Liliana. Textbook damsel-in-distress. "Help, they've got me!" It reeked of a setup. Didn't matter. Lucian snatched up every guard in sight and bolted. No look back. No thought for the Don bleeding out on the pavement. Just her. Always her. Why would he care now that his worthless wife was injured? If Liliana was his whole world, why the hell did he put a ring on my finger? Rage flooded my chest. More blood came up. The doc braced himself. Looked at the Don. Desperate. "Don, Mrs. Carvalho is too agitated. If she doesn't have someone here—someone she knows, I don't think she's coming back from this." The Don looked at me. Swallowed the rage. He tore a pendant engraved with the family crest from his waist and tossed it to Marco. "You tell him it's not a request. It's my final order. If he values his current position—in this family, in this city, in this life—he'll comply." The Don was beyond pissed. An army of bodyguards on payroll. Not a single one there when the bullets started flying. I'd risked my life to save him, and he couldn't even get my husband to show up. To the supreme ruler of the underworld, this was a massive humiliation. This time, Marco didn't return alone. I cracked my eyes open. More than just my husband standing there. There was another face. One I knew bone-deep from my last life. Liliana's little maid. Mia Potter.
👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama
When Dominic Vittori, the Don of the Vittori crime family, was ambushed, my husband Lucian Carvalho—their top hitman—took all Dominic's personal bodyguards to rescue his first love Liliana Rossi, who'd lied about being kidnapped by a rival clan. I didn't press the emergency call button in my hand. Instead, I became his shield. Eight months pregnant. Flesh and blood. And I gave him the seconds he needed to run. In my past life, I'd pressed that button. Lucian dropped Liliana mid-rescue and rushed back to save the Don. His successful rescue got him promoted to the family's head enforcer. But Liliana? No one watching her back. She walked straight into a rival crew's setup. Dead before she hit the ground. On the surface, same old Lucian. Ice cold. All business. However, on the day I went into labor, he threw me into an abandoned family freezer warehouse. Pain had me twisted up like a pretzel. I asked him why. Lucian looked at me. No heat. No rage. Just ice. "Twenty guards on the Don. Twenty. And you dragged me back." His voice never rose. "You didn't hit that button. Liliana's still breathing. So here's how this works. Every second of pain she endured, I'm taking out of you. Tenfold." In the end, my unborn baby and I froze to death in that twenty-degree-below-zero vault. Then I opened my eyes. Same day. Same ambush. Same sh*t show. ... "Cover the Don! Now!" I screamed. Black tactical gear. Everywhere. My feet backpedaled before my brain even caught up. Then it clicked. I was back. Back to the exact second everything went to hell. Back to the moment I could flip the whole godd*mn script. That freezer flashed behind my eyes. I hurled the panic button like it was on fire. I threw myself forward. Took the hit meant for the bleeding Don. My body. His shield. I watched his face shift. Confusion. Then something else. Gratitude. Disbelief. Like he couldn't process what I'd just done. I knew I had made the right choice this time. My husband, Lucian Carvalho, was the family's top hitman. He's glued to the Don's side. Yet today? Bullets flying. Don bleeding out. No Lucian. He was too busy playing therapist to his precious first crush. Liliana Rossi had thrown a tantrum and stormed off, and he'd chased after her like a loyal, obedient puppy. In my previous life, I was scared he would be punished, so I hit the button. After he pulled the Don out? He twisted it. Decided I'd done it for a payday and a title. He tossed me in that freezer he'd rigged. Let me and our kid freeze to death. Premeditated. Since I had gotten a second chance at life, I would never walk that path again. I covered him like my life depended on it. Bullets punched through my flesh. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would crack. Didn't make a sound. Besides the guards my husband had taken, the Don had plenty of others. If I could hold out until backup arrived, I'd survive. The Don knew it too. Reluctant as he was, he had to take cover behind me. I was eight months pregnant. I felt that kid every day. Little kicks. Flutters. Last life, in that freezer, the last thing I heard was his cry, tiny and fading. This stinging pain was worse than the bitter cold ever had. Soon, chaotic footsteps approached, and I heard the Don shouting frantically. "Where the f*ck are the medics?! Get them here! Who is this woman?!" I tried to answer. Just gurgled blood. However, the Don didn't care. He leaned in close to me. One last push. Forced the words out. "Lucian Carvalho's wife." The words scraped out of me. Then the pain swallowed everything. Black. Silent. The doctor wiped cold sweat from his forehead, his voice urgent. "Mrs. Carvalho! Stay with me! You close your eyes now, you don't open them again! Your husband! Your baby! They're waiting!" The Don cut him off. "You saved my life. The Vittori name means something. If you pull through, you'll get the highest honor this family's got. Just hold the line! I sent for Lucian already!" I smiled at that. Weak and bitter. To Lucian, me and the kid inside me—we didn't add up to a single strand of Liliana's precious hair. When I shielded the Don from the hitmen, I already knew the baby in my womb couldn't be saved. As for Lucian, he'd never come. Just then, the man the Don had sent to fetch Lucian rushed back. He dropped heavily to his knees, too afraid to look at the Don. The Don's expression turned to stone, but behind his eyes, a volcano churned. "Where is Lucian?!" Vinci Marco, the family manager, trembled as he spoke. "Mr. Carvalho… he refused. He said… he said stop with the cheap tricks. Stop begging for scraps." In Lucian's mind, pregnant as I was, I wasn't even as important as Liliana. And yet, I was Lucian's legal wife, while Liliana was nothing more than a mistress. One message. From Liliana. Textbook damsel-in-distress. "Help, they've got me!" It reeked of a setup. Didn't matter. Lucian snatched up every guard in sight and bolted. No look back. No thought for the Don bleeding out on the pavement. Just her. Always her. Why would he care now that his worthless wife was injured? If Liliana was his whole world, why the hell did he put a ring on my finger? Rage flooded my chest. More blood came up. The doc braced himself. Looked at the Don. Desperate. "Don, Mrs. Carvalho is too agitated. If she doesn't have someone here—someone she knows, I don't think she's coming back from this." The Don looked at me. Swallowed the rage. He tore a pendant engraved with the family crest from his waist and tossed it to Marco. "You tell him it's not a request. It's my final order. If he values his current position—in this family, in this city, in this life—he'll comply." The Don was beyond pissed. An army of bodyguards on payroll. Not a single one there when the bullets started flying. I'd risked my life to save him, and he couldn't even get my husband to show up. To the supreme ruler of the underworld, this was a massive humiliation. This time, Marco didn't return alone. I cracked my eyes open. More than just my husband standing there. There was another face. One I knew bone-deep from my last life. Liliana's little maid. Mia Potter.
When Dominic Vittori, the Don of the Vittori crime family, was ambushed, my husband Lucian Carvalho—their top hitman—took all Dominic's personal bodyguards to rescue his first love Liliana Rossi, who'd lied about being kidnapped by a rival clan. I didn't press the emergency call button in my hand. Instead, I became his shield. Eight months pregnant. Flesh and blood. And I gave him the seconds he needed to run. In my past life, I'd pressed that button. Lucian dropped Liliana mid-rescue and rushed back to save the Don. His successful rescue got him promoted to the family's head enforcer. But Liliana? No one watching her back. She walked straight into a rival crew's setup. Dead before she hit the ground. On the surface, same old Lucian. Ice cold. All business. However, on the day I went into labor, he threw me into an abandoned family freezer warehouse. Pain had me twisted up like a pretzel. I asked him why. Lucian looked at me. No heat. No rage. Just ice. "Twenty guards on the Don. Twenty. And you dragged me back." His voice never rose. "You didn't hit that button. Liliana's still breathing. So here's how this works. Every second of pain she endured, I'm taking out of you. Tenfold." In the end, my unborn baby and I froze to death in that twenty-degree-below-zero vault. Then I opened my eyes. Same day. Same ambush. Same sh*t show. ... "Cover the Don! Now!" I screamed. Black tactical gear. Everywhere. My feet backpedaled before my brain even caught up. Then it clicked. I was back. Back to the exact second everything went to hell. Back to the moment I could flip the whole godd*mn script. That freezer flashed behind my eyes. I hurled the panic button like it was on fire. I threw myself forward. Took the hit meant for the bleeding Don. My body. His shield. I watched his face shift. Confusion. Then something else. Gratitude. Disbelief. Like he couldn't process what I'd just done. I knew I had made the right choice this time. My husband, Lucian Carvalho, was the family's top hitman. He's glued to the Don's side. Yet today? Bullets flying. Don bleeding out. No Lucian. He was too busy playing therapist to his precious first crush. Liliana Rossi had thrown a tantrum and stormed off, and he'd chased after her like a loyal, obedient puppy. In my previous life, I was scared he would be punished, so I hit the button. After he pulled the Don out? He twisted it. Decided I'd done it for a payday and a title. He tossed me in that freezer he'd rigged. Let me and our kid freeze to death. Premeditated. Since I had gotten a second chance at life, I would never walk that path again. I covered him like my life depended on it. Bullets punched through my flesh. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would crack. Didn't make a sound. Besides the guards my husband had taken, the Don had plenty of others. If I could hold out until backup arrived, I'd survive. The Don knew it too. Reluctant as he was, he had to take cover behind me. I was eight months pregnant. I felt that kid every day. Little kicks. Flutters. Last life, in that freezer, the last thing I heard was his cry, tiny and fading. This stinging pain was worse than the bitter cold ever had. Soon, chaotic footsteps approached, and I heard the Don shouting frantically. "Where the f*ck are the medics?! Get them here! Who is this woman?!" I tried to answer. Just gurgled blood. However, the Don didn't care. He leaned in close to me. One last push. Forced the words out. "Lucian Carvalho's wife." The words scraped out of me. Then the pain swallowed everything. Black. Silent. The doctor wiped cold sweat from his forehead, his voice urgent. "Mrs. Carvalho! Stay with me! You close your eyes now, you don't open them again! Your husband! Your baby! They're waiting!" The Don cut him off. "You saved my life. The Vittori name means something. If you pull through, you'll get the highest honor this family's got. Just hold the line! I sent for Lucian already!" I smiled at that. Weak and bitter. To Lucian, me and the kid inside me—we didn't add up to a single strand of Liliana's precious hair. When I shielded the Don from the hitmen, I already knew the baby in my womb couldn't be saved. As for Lucian, he'd never come. Just then, the man the Don had sent to fetch Lucian rushed back. He dropped heavily to his knees, too afraid to look at the Don. The Don's expression turned to stone, but behind his eyes, a volcano churned. "Where is Lucian?!" Vinci Marco, the family manager, trembled as he spoke. "Mr. Carvalho… he refused. He said… he said stop with the cheap tricks. Stop begging for scraps." In Lucian's mind, pregnant as I was, I wasn't even as important as Liliana. And yet, I was Lucian's legal wife, while Liliana was nothing more than a mistress. One message. From Liliana. Textbook damsel-in-distress. "Help, they've got me!" It reeked of a setup. Didn't matter. Lucian snatched up every guard in sight and bolted. No look back. No thought for the Don bleeding out on the pavement. Just her. Always her. Why would he care now that his worthless wife was injured? If Liliana was his whole world, why the hell did he put a ring on my finger? Rage flooded my chest. More blood came up. The doc braced himself. Looked at the Don. Desperate. "Don, Mrs. Carvalho is too agitated. If she doesn't have someone here—someone she knows, I don't think she's coming back from this." The Don looked at me. Swallowed the rage. He tore a pendant engraved with the family crest from his waist and tossed it to Marco. "You tell him it's not a request. It's my final order. If he values his current position—in this family, in this city, in this life—he'll comply." The Don was beyond pissed. An army of bodyguards on payroll. Not a single one there when the bullets started flying. I'd risked my life to save him, and he couldn't even get my husband to show up. To the supreme ruler of the underworld, this was a massive humiliation. This time, Marco didn't return alone. I cracked my eyes open. More than just my husband standing there. There was another face. One I knew bone-deep from my last life. Liliana's little maid. Mia Potter.
👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama
👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama | 👀Watch more!👉👉https://adapt.fypedrama.com/#/pages/videos/index?token=2054143157696307202 ✨💥 Ashley Carter’s return to Carter Enterprises is long overdue. After years away, she’s ready to reconnect with her brother Liam, the company’s CEO, and carve out her own path in the business world. She decides to keep her relationship with Liam a secret initially, wanting to be recognized for her own skills, not her last name. 💔❤️ Her first day at work becomes a nightmare. Erica, a conceited employee who prides herself on her “seniority” and connections, mistakes Ashley for an unqualified new hire. Without a second thought, Erica subjects Ashley to humiliating treatment in front of her colleagues—yelling at her, making her clean her desk, and mocking her for “not belonging” in the company. 😢🔍 Ashley tries repeatedly to set the record straight: she is Liam’s sister, the CEO’s own family. But Erica refuses to listen, dismissing her as a liar and even escalating her cruelty—threatening to fire her, spreading false rumors about her work ethic, and embarrassing her in front of clients. Erica’s arrogance blinds her to the truth, and she has no idea she’s playing with fire. 🇺🇸🇬🇧🇦🇺🇨🇦 The breaking point comes when Liam walks in on Erica publicly berating Ashley. In an instant, Liam’s protective instinct kicks in. He reveals Ashley’s true identity, and Erica’s world comes crashing down. She goes from confident and arrogant to begging for mercy, but Liam has no sympathy for her. He fires her immediately, and Erica is later charged with harassment and defamation. Her once-promising career is ruined, and she ends up in prison—all because of her own arrogance and refusal to listen. ✨ Will Ashley thrive in her new role now that her identity is known? How will Liam support his sister as she navigates the company? And what does the future hold for Erica after her devastating fall from grace? #CEO Sister #ArroganceKills #PublicShaming #KarmaStrikes #WorkplaceDrama