The Alpha manor was exactly as opulent as the stories claimed. Polished marble floors reflected the cold light of the chandeliers, and portraits of stern-faced former Alphas stared down from the walls, their silver eyes seeming to follow my every pathetic step. Every inch of this place screamed power, legacy, and a world I no longer belonged to. I was led past the grand staircase I once dreamed of descending as a bride and shoved down a narrow corridor to a small, windowless room next to the kitchens. It was a cell, plain and simple.
My life fell into a grueling routine of pain and humiliation. Selena, relishing her new role as the manor's mistress, made it her personal mission to break me. My days were filled with endless, demeaning chores. I scrubbed floors until my knees were raw, polished silver I wasn't worthy to eat from, and tended to the gardens under Selena's watchful, mocking gaze.
She would often find me while I worked, her presence a cloud of expensive perfume and condescending cruelty.
"Careful with that, Omega," she'd purr as I cleaned the grand fireplace. "That mantelpiece is older and more valuable than your entire bloodline."
The other servants, following her lead, treated me like a ghost, their eyes sliding past me as if I didn't exist. And Damien… Damien was a phantom of cold indifference. I would see him stride down the halls, powerful and remote, his eyes sweeping over me without a flicker of recognition. He never spoke to me. He never acknowledged my presence. It was as if our shared past, the sacred bond we once felt, had been nothing more than a figment of my imagination.
Each night, I would collapse onto my thin cot, the brand on my wrist a throbbing reminder of my place in this new world. I would press a hand to my still-flat stomach, whispering promises to the tiny, secret life within me. I will get us out of here, I'd vow into the darkness. I will not let you be born in a cage.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day of being forced to wash Selena's laundry by hand, I was in my room, trying to force down a piece of dry bread, when my door swung open without a knock.
Damien filled the doorway.
My heart leaped into my throat. It was the first time he had sought me out, the first time we had been truly alone since the ceremony. He was dressed in simple black trousers and a shirt, looking less like an Alpha and more like the man I once foolishly thought I knew. But his face was a mask of cold granite, his silver eyes hard and unreadable.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and the tiny room suddenly felt suffocating, charged with a dangerous, unspoken energy. I scrambled to my feet, pressing myself against the far wall like a cornered animal.
"Alpha," I whispered, the word tasting like poison.
He didn't respond. His gaze swept over me, taking in my worn-out servant's dress, the dark circles under my eyes, the ever-present bandage on my wrist. For a fraction of a second, I saw something flicker in his eyes—a flash of raw, unfiltered pain—but it was gone so quickly I thought I must have imagined it.
He reached into his pocket and tossed a small, velvet pouch onto my cot. It landed with a soft, heavy thud.
"What is this?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Herbs," he stated, his voice a low, rough growl. "From the healers. The rarest kind. They strengthen the body."
I stared at him, my mind racing, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his actions. Was this a test? A trick?
"I don't understand," I said.
He took a step closer, and I flinched. His face hardened. "It's simple," he said, his voice laced with a cold, biting sarcasm. "I need you to stay healthy. A deranged, sickly ex-mate wandering my halls reflects poorly on my reputation. Your weakness is an inconvenience I do not have time for."
The cruelty of his words was a physical blow. Of course. It was all about his reputation. His pride. He wasn't concerned for me; he was irritated by my very existence. This wasn't a peace offering; it was a transaction. A payment to keep his "problem" from getting worse.
Rage, hot and pure, surged through me, eclipsing the fear. It was a fire I hadn't felt before, a strength born from absolute despair.
"Your charity?" I spat, my voice dripping with a scorn that surprised even me. "You brand me like an animal, you make me a slave in your house, and now you offer me herbs to soothe your own guilty conscience?"
I snatched the velvet pouch from the bed. The herbs inside felt precious, humming with a faint energy. They were worth a fortune. A fortune I wanted no part of.
As he turned to leave, his duty done, I threw it with all my might. The pouch hit the wall right next to his head, bursting open. The priceless, fragrant herbs scattered across the grimy floor.
"I don't need anything from you, Alpha," I hissed, my body shaking with defiance. "I would rather die than accept your pity."
He stopped, his back to me, his entire body rigid. For a long, tense moment, he didn't move. Then, without turning around, he walked out, closing the door behind him with a soft, final click.
The next day, the tension in the manor was a palpable thing. I was cleaning the main hall when Damien and Selena descended the grand staircase, dressed for a hunt. Selena saw me, and her eyes narrowed, a malicious idea clearly forming in her mind.
As they passed me, her foot shot out, "accidentally" hooking my ankle.
I cried out as I went down, my hands flying out to break my fall, my body hitting the hard marble floor with a painful jolt.
Damien froze. He stopped dead on the stairs, and I saw it. Just for a second. His mask of indifference shattered, and his silver eyes blazed with a murderous, untamed fury directed squarely at Selena. It was the rage of an Alpha whose mate had been threatened, so potent it made the air crackle.
But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, locked away behind his iron control.
Selena, who had seen it too, merely smirked, a flicker of fear in her eyes quickly replaced by her usual arrogance. She turned to Damien, looping her arm through his, and tilted her head with a look of feigned concern.
"Darling," she said, her voice a sweet, poisonous melody that echoed in the silent hall. "This clumsy Omega is such an eyesore. Don't you think it's time we get rid of her?"