Chapter 2 - Willow #2
It's the only reason I'm here, within a pack that ridicules me for simply existing, worse off than I was in the pack I was born into.
I ran away only because I'd been rejected. My heart couldn't bear the torment of being shunned, but I'd only ended up suffering more when the greener pastures turned out to be an acidic bog.
Still, the acrid bile rising in my throat isn't brought on by the abuse I'm faced with, but rather the lingering aftertaste of a rejection five years old. Time should have healed me by now, but Seward isn’t a safe space meant for healing.
Instead, salt is thrown on my open wounds, without the Blood Claw members even realizing it.
Mentally reeling into myself, into a shell built so that I could at least survive in an unforgiving society as a werewolf without a wolf, I go back to my work. Not entertaining the mockery earns me another jab, and I'm accused of not having a heart on top of everything else I lack.
If only they knew….
Chewing on my bottom lip like a lifeline, I miraculously make it through another day full of chores, barely having a moment to put a piece of bread between my chapped lips when Dax marches into the kitchen to retrieve me for the meeting.
“Don't get used to this, eh!” he remarks, grabbing my arm and forcing me to my feet. His grimy breath is hot in my ear when he hisses, “The only reason I'm picking ya up is ‘cause the boss told me to come get ya.”
Despite my silence as Dax drags me out of the pack center, I can't help but wonder what's going on.
Why is this meeting so important that Alpha Grant sent Dax to personally escort me to the pack den?
The bamboo hut hidden between the trees is lit up by candles, while a gentle crackle of the fire outside is the only evidence of the feast the alpha and his men have enjoyed before our arrival.
Dax knocks on the door, and it's immediately thrown open by the beta of Blood Claw, his raven-black eyes falling on my face with a heinous glint of something sinister.
“Willow Barker,” he purrs, the vibration of his rugged voice churning my gut as soon as he grabs my arm from Dax. He pulls me into the den, forcefully turning me with both hands on my shoulders to face the alpha.
My heart sinks as my breath catches with fear. The pack den is full of the main perpetrators behind my abuse in Blood Claw—close friends of Alpha Grant who constantly degrade and belittle me as if it's their favorite pastime.
Gulping hard, I pretend to be indifferent even if my heart is hammering in my chest with dread, fear, worry that I haven't been called out here for anything pleasant.
They're all cruel brutes, and I'm the only she-wolf in the pack den.
This isn't going to end well…
“Aha! There you are!” Alpha Grant whistles before he chugs down what's left of his beer.
He flings the empty bottle into the trash can, then slides off the table where he'd been sitting.
He reaches out toward me, then stops and retracts his hand with a grimace as if he caught himself before touching something filthy.
“Did you forget how to act in front of your alpha, you stupid mongrel?”
I quickly bow my head, murmuring an apology as Beta Warren releases my arm.
“Right,” Alpha Grant continues. “You're here because I have a new job for you.”
Lifting my face, curiosity knits my brows as I meet the alpha's eyes. There's a triumphant glint in those dark pools of brown that sends a flicker of fear coursing down my spine.
What is it this time?
Chapped lips peel back to reveal yellowing teeth as the alpha leans in.
“You can't continue living in Seward as a useless, wolfless female.” Alpha Grant turns and nods toward one of his men—a sleazy older wolf with a missing front tooth and dark circles framing his dead eyes.
A mop of ginger hair with noticeable bald patches is swiped back with calloused fingers as the man comes over, and Alpha Grant flings his arm over his shoulder and turns back to me with a sinister smirk.
“You're gonna be a pupmill for my buddy, Sam, over here.”
“Pupmill?” I whisper in confusion, prompting the alpha to let out a roaring laugh as he throws his head back.
“Well, I was tryna be tactful by calling it that. But it doesn't matter for a gal like you. You're gonna be Sam's breeding ground. His bitch. You're gonna mate with him and have his pups.”
My jaw drops as I feel the color seeping from my face, my heart pounding with terror.
Mate?
Did Alpha Grant just tell me that I needed to mate with one of his friends?
“I—I can't…” I murmur, shaking my head slowly, and without warning, Alpha Grant grabs my neck and slams me against the wall, eyes vindictive and cold as he glares at me in warning.
“What makes you think you have a choice, mongrel?” he spits venomously at my face.
I squeak out an apology and struggle to breathe against the tightness of his hand around my neck, my breath becoming shallower as I lose air. My eyes roll back, and just as I'm about to pass out, Alpha Grant releases me.
Choking and sputtering as I attempt to catch my breath, Alpha Grant's foreboding glare is a warning. He sticks a finger between my eyes, spitting venom when he grates out, “This isn't up for debate. Got it?”
I nod tersely, struggling to move my head against the bruises on my neck. But it's enough to satisfy the alpha, who straightens up and pulls Sam forward, patting his chest.
“Now, because I am a kind alpha, I will allow for the mating to take place tomorrow, instead of tonight.”
Sam nods with a grin on his face, and I nod reluctantly, mentally trying to calculate an escape before the night runs out.
Alpha Grant takes a purposeful step forward, narrowing his dark eyes at me. “And don't think about escaping your fate, Omega. You owe Blood Claw for the hut you're living in, the food you eat, and the clothes on your back. This is how you will pay back all that you owe.”
Gulping as I nod, I see the amusement in Alpha Grant's eyes, and I know there's no way out of this. He'll make sure of it.
In five years, it's not like I haven't tried to leave, but my attempts were never successful. Tonight will be no different, and I know this when the alpha tasks Dax with taking me to my hut.
The spotlight is back on me for all the wrong reasons, and there's no escaping my twisted fate.
Mating with one of the males who bullied me ever since I arrived in Seward?
That must be a cruel joke the universe is playing on me.
What's worse is that I've never been with a man before.
The last time I tried, I was rejected, and it spurred me on to run—straight into another prison, just one with different walls.
Even now, five years later, I can still hear his voice when I close my eyes.
The calm cruelty of it, as though he was too composed to even raise it when he told me I wasn’t enough.
A rejection spoken without hesitation, slicing deeper than claws ever could.
I fled because I couldn’t breathe under the weight of it.
Because I thought somewhere out there, there had to be a place for me.
Instead, I found Blood Claw.
I clutch the edge of my apron in my fists as Dax shoves me through the shadows toward my hut.
Every step feels heavier than the last, as though the earth itself wants to drag me down.
My throat burns where Alpha Grant’s hand had been, and each shallow breath reminds me that I belong to no one.
Not my old pack. Not to myself. Not even to the Goddess.
Only to them.
“Sleep tight, runt,” Dax sneers as he throws me inside, his laugh echoing after him when the door slams shut.
I stumble in the dark, hands splayed against the rough stone walls until I find my cot. My body folds onto it, shaking, but my tears refuse to fall. Not anymore. Blood Claw has wrung them all from me long ago.
What’s left is a hollow ache. And the word that will never stop branding me…
Reject.
The air seems to thrum with it, each beat syncing with the faint tremors in my fingertips.
I press my palms to my thighs, trying to still them, but the tingling only intensifies, sparking like invisible static beneath my skin.
For a wild heartbeat, I wonder if it’s the stirring of madness—my mind unraveling at last.
But deep inside, something else whispers. A warning. A promise.
I shake it off, curling onto my side, pulling my thin blanket over my bruised body, not wanting to make up false senses of hope that don't exist in my reality. My gaze fixes on the cracked ceiling beam above me, tracing the jagged lines like a roadmap that leads nowhere. Tomorrow night, they’ll make me his.
Tomorrow night, I’ll lose the last shred of choice I ever had.
I close my eyes, forcing the tremors in my hands to still, and whisper to the emptiness, “Please. Not like this….”
The hut doesn’t answer. Only the distant sound of cruel laughter carrying on the wind and the echo of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears answer, as if sealing my demise.
Still, that strange thrum lingers in my palms, like something locked inside me is stirring for the first time.
Madness. That's what it is. And for the first time in years, I wonder if maybe—just maybe—the nightmare I’m trapped in isn’t the end of my story.
Perhaps my madness can be unleashed and get me through this, get me to survive my impending fate somehow.
A stray tear slips out from my tightly shut eyelid just as an urgent knock rings out, nearly penetrating through the old, worn wood of my front door.
Were my silent prayers answered by the Moon Goddess? I wonder as the last spark of hope pulls me up and gives me enough determination to make it to the door, to nervously pull it open.
But the moment I meet my bullies’ faces outside, my heart drops.
I should have known better than to be hopeful. A worthless omega like me is undeserving of such luxury, and another round of abuse is the only thing I can look forward to when Sam grabs my arm and forces me outside.