The cold, unforgiving wind of winter sliced through the thin rags that passed for my clothes. Each gust felt like needles against my skin, but I didn't dare slow down. My hands, raw and blistered from scrubbing the floors of the Lockheart Pack's pack house where the Alpha resided, were covered in frostbite. Pain was a constant companion, one I had grown used to in my new life as a slave.
Since the day I was dragged to this place, I had known no comfort. My bed was a cold, hard floor in the corner of a dank basement. Every morning, I woke up to a list of chores that seemed endless—cleaning, cooking, fetching water, and anything else the pack members deemed beneath them.
"Hey, wolfless," sneered a warrior named Marcus, tossing a filthy rag at me. "Make sure you get every speck of dust, or you'll be scrubbing with your tongue next time."
"Yes," I whispered, my voice hoarse from the cold and constant degradation. I bent down to continue my work, my body aching with each movement.
Even the children of the pack treated me with disdain. They threw stones and laughed as I hurried about my tasks, their taunts echoing in my ears. But it was nothing compared to the torment I faced from Alpha Luther.
"How dare you have the same face as my angel?" He spat one evening, his eyes blazing with hatred. His words cut deeper than any physical wound. Every time he saw me, it was as if he was reminded of the loss of Victoria, and his fury knew no bounds.
"Get out of my sight, you wretch!" He roared, and I would scurry away, his voice chasing me like a nightmare.
One particularly brutal winter night, I was summoned to the Alpha's quarters. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol as I entered, my heart pounding in my chest. Luther sat slumped at his table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey before him.
"Pour me some more," he slurred, his eyes glazed over. I hesitated for a moment, then quickly moved to obey, my hands trembling as I poured the golden liquid into his glass.
As I turned to leave, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength. "Victoria..." he murmured, his eyes focusing on my face. "You're back..."
"Alpha, you've got the wrong person," I whispered, trying to pull away. But he was lost in his drunken haze, pulling me closer.