I could hear the rain beating down on the pavement outside. My bedroom was dark and all was quiet, for now. I wondered how much time I had before I needed to be in the dining room to clean up after dinner. My stomach growled loudly, interrupting my thoughts. I was only allowed to eat when nobody was around, and we’d had guests all day long. I rubbed my belly, willing the hollowness to go away.

I cherished this time to myself. Most of today was spent serving others and being ordered around, which I hated more than anything. I was not meant to serve others, and I was reminded of that every time I forced myself to hold my tongue. I slid down the wall my bed was placed against and laid my head against my pillow. I was so comfy I could have taken a nap.

“I’ll grab her for you, just give me one moment,” the nasally, fake voice of my aunt carried into my room, and I groaned. At least I had a few minutes of peace.

My bedroom door creaked open, and light spilled into the room from the hallway, making me squint painfully. Then, a shadow broke through the light as my aunt’s figure filled the doorway.

“Get up, you’re wanted by one of our guests,” she ordered, her voice low and angry. There was almost never a time she wasn’t angry around me. I nodded and swung my feet out of bed and onto the cold hardwood floor as my bedroom door fell shut. I flipped the light switch on and was bathed in light again. I had to make sure I was presentable. Stopping in front of the mirror, I checked that my long, raven-black hair was still tied into the updo I’d spent an hour on this morning. I smoothed some stray baby hairs back as I reapplied some of the eye makeup that had smudged throughout the day.

“Let’s go, Melanie,” my aunt’s voice bellowed. She must have been standing in the hallway waiting for me. I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay composed.

Opening the door, I stepped out into the bright hallway and was met with my aunt openly sneering at me. I beamed a huge smile in return, knowing she wanted a different reaction from me that she’d never get.

“Let’s go, you brat. Alpha Arlo wants to meet you,” she spat, and I put my head down, following her down the hallway.

I hadn’t always had to put up with my aunt’s abuse; it was only recently that it started. My uncle, however, was a different story. He started trying to beat me into submission as soon as I moved in. My parents were killed by rogue wolves. Oh yeah, that’s right. I’m part of a pack of wolf shifters. Those fairy tales you read about? Yeah, they’re real. Faeries, witches, trolls, all of that, all real. While I didn’t have all the intel on most of those species, I knew we coexisted with most of them. I am the daughter of an Alpha, and my mother is his Luna. They had ruled over this pack that my uncle had torn to shreds in their absence: the NightWalker pack.

I am Melanie Wakefield, and alpha blood runs through my body.

I am not meant to tolera—

I found myself in my uncle’s office, my thoughts abruptly interrupted by the man who sat in the chair behind the desk.

He was beautiful. He looked to be a few years older than me, and his eyes were bright blue, like staring into the ocean. His hair was black like mine and framed his face perfectly, a slight stray curl resting against his cheek. I dared myself to look even further and immediately steered myself back to staring at his face.

This man was covered in tattoos. I could see them extending down his neck, down his hands, and even around his ankles. I swear I needed to pick my jaw up off the ground to be able to communicate with this walking god.

“You may go now, Chris,” Alpha Arlo ordered my aunt, motioning toward the door and then focusing his attention on me once more. She scoffed but obeyed.

“H-hi,” I managed to stutter as I bowed my head. Alphas were always to be respected.

“You don’t need to bow. I only brought you here because I have yet to meet you,” he said, his voice deep and sexy.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I was so mesmerized that this man could ruin my entire life, and I’d let him.

He raised an eyebrow at me, and it was then I noticed he’d asked me a question.

“I said, how are things here for you?” Alpha Arlo repeated, now his voice was tinged with a little bit of amusement.

“It’s been fine,” I replied, staring at the ground. Guilt over lying to an Alpha filled me.

“Well, okay then. I just wanted to meet you and make sure. You’re welcome on our pack territory anytime you want. Who knows, maybe you’ll find your mate,” he joked, winking at me.

“M-maybe,” I shakily replied and moved toward the door to leave.

“Oh yeah. I’ve heard how beautiful your wolf form is. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Alpha Arlo called, and I turned, nodding my head furiously.

He laughed and motioned for me to leave. I obeyed, stepping through the doorway and out into the carpeted hallway. The harsh fibers dug into my bare feet as I walked to the dining room to start the chores I was designated for tonight.

I was the servant around here. I cleaned every part of this house top to bottom every single day. I cooked most of the meals that I wasn’t even allowed to be a part of. I’ve been abused countless times by my family, who constantly reminded me that they’re letting me stay here out of the kindness of their own hearts.

I call bullshit.

They’re letting me stay because I have nowhere else to go, and an Alpha doesn’t abandon one of their pack. Could you imagine the stories? It’d be a scandal.

Instead, I’m stuck here while they take out their miserable lives on me. My uncle is my father’s brother, and they had been close. We had been close too, until he married Chris. Then everything went downhill.

My parents were trying to make peace between a few of the packs in the area when a rogue approached them. The rogue had asked if there would ever be a time they’d be allowed to be integrated back into the packs they’d been banished from. Since a rogue is usually cast out for horrible crimes against pack members, my father was hesitant to set something like that in motion. He had told the rogue that he didn’t think it was a good idea and ended up in the hospital with three deep and distinct claw marks down his face.

They thought that was the end of it, upping security for a while before dropping it back down. They were wrong. One night, while we were all fast asleep, rogues set our house on fire. Doused the entire thing in flames. My father died trying to throw me out the window to firefighters. The room had been engulfed, my bed the only thing untouched. My father had walked through the fire to grab me, then pulled me through it as fast as he could and threw me out the window. That was three years ago. To this day, I still have a few burn scars along the right side of my hip and back, and they are ugly.

After clearing all the dishes, loading the dishwasher, wiping surfaces down, sweeping, and mopping the floors, I was finally done and coated in a nice layer of sweat. I sat down for a few minutes and scrolled on my phone, losing myself in the world of social media for a little while. However, my stomach growled again, and this time nausea accompanied it. I needed to eat something.

As usual, they made sure there were no leftovers. I never put full effort into the meals I cooked because I never got to taste them. They were subpar at best. I could cook very, very well. I sighed as I stood up and rooted through the pantry for something easy to cook.

The back door flew open and I jumped back from the pantry, tripping over my own feet and ending up in a pile on the floor.

“Clumsy, are we?” Alpha Arlo asked, laughing. I closed my eyes, trying to pretend I wasn’t there and embarrassed as all hell.

“Here, let me help you up,” he said, extending his hand to me.

I stared at it for a moment before accepting it, standing up and adjusting my shirt. I’d never had an Alpha be nice to me like Alpha Arlo had been. Then again, I’d only ever been around my shitty uncle.

“I noticed you weren’t at dinner tonight. How come?” Alpha Arlo asked, tilting his head a little.

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I wasn’t hungry,” I lied through clenched teeth. Then my stomach, being the traitor it is, growled loudly again.

Again, his deep, bouncy laughter filled the room, and I couldn’t help but join him.

“Well, here, I figured you might be hungry,” he said after he’d finished cackling. He placed a small paper bag on the counter, waved, and then strode off in the direction of the guest bedroom he was staying in.

He figured I might be hungry. What?

I walked over, the smell of burgers filling my nose. Opening the bag, I saw two wrapped sandwiches, two containers of fries, and a small bottle of lemonade. I furrowed my brows in confusion.

Did he give me his food? Did he go get this food for me? I hadn’t had anything even resembling fast food for years now.

I grabbed the bag and ran to my room, scared that someone would take it from me if they found me with it.

I ate the food slowly, savoring the taste. I hadn’t had food this good in years. I was full after the first burger and fries, but I kept going until I felt like my stomach would explode. No regrets. I settled into bed, and my eyes started to grow heavy as I settled into my food coma. My phone pinged with a new text message.

Unknown: You’re welcome. You deserve it.