My New Hell

Emilia’s POV—Eleven Years Later

Another day, another dollar. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be, except I never get paid for any of the work I do.

I have been in the Black Claw pack for last eleven years and every day it is a fight to stay alive—to keep on going until I can find a way to get out of this fucking hell hole.

Since my parent’s murder, I have been reduced to nothing but a simple common slave to the Alpha and his pack.

That man who ordered my mom to be raped and murdered in front of my father and then proceeded to kill my dad? He was a bounty hunter, sent to retrieve me because Alpha Jackson placed a hefty bounty on me.

Why you ask? Well, when you figure that out, let me know.

“Emilia!” Luna Ismalda screeches from downstairs.

I slowly rise from the bed, my joints aching from the lumpy mattress underneath me. I sigh softly to myself and look around the room I’m in.

One day…

One day, I won’t have to live like this. I just have to wait until I turn 18…one more day…then I can meet my mate. Once I meet him, hopefully he takes me away from here…or maybe I can leave here on my own. Can’t be that hard, right? I am sure the life of a rogue has got to be ten times better than the shit I am in now.

My prison…

This place has been nothing short of fucking hell for the last eleven years. You would think, I would be treated decently at least while I was still a young child, but nope…not for me. Never for me.

I glance in the floor length mirror I managed to acquire in this small ass bedroom. I cringe when I take in my dingy clothes and dust coated hair, tears welling in my eyes as I stare at the girl who used to be happy.

I hear banging on the stairs and immediately swipe my hand across my face to wipe away the tears. I don’t have time to feel sorry for myself. If I don’t get my shit together immediately, I know the consequences.

…and I don’t want to think about the consequences.

I quickly rush to the door, pulling it open before the Luna, or worse her oldest son, can open it. Everything is always ten times worse when they have to “fetch” me.

“Yes, Luna?” I immediately ask as I stand in front of her, not staring directly into her eyes.

Luna Ismalda immediately scoffs at my appearance. “This isn’t good. What have I told you about taking care of your body? No one is going to want someone who looks like that!”

I nearly sneer at the Luna’s shock. It is no secret how I fucking live. They give me ninety second showers, once a week. How the hell is anyone supposed to get clean with ninety seconds, once a week?

“If I had more than one shower a week, I might be able to stay clean.” I snark. Yeah, I didn’t sneer like I wanted to, but I have had a nasty habit of not keeping my mouth shut when I need to.

Momma always told me my mouth would get me into trouble, even as a child.

First mistake of the morning.

I feel the whish of her hand as it flies, hitting my face, and making my face whip to the other side.

I fight back the small whimper threatening to escape me.

Rule #1: Don’t let them see you cry. Crying is a sign of weakness. If you cry, they know they have gotten to you. I have to remain strong—it is the only way I am going to escape this hell.

I close my eyes and take the brief second to calm myself down. I can’t let them know how upset they make me. I take the minute and envision my parents and my older siblings.

After the attack, I have no clue what happened to them. As you can imagine, the bounty hunter found me the same day because I couldn’t stop the cry from leaving me as my father’s lifeless body collapsed on the ground.

Julio and Ramira weren’t home that night. Thankfully…

I can only imagine the hell that they were in for if they were home that night…

Despite the interrogations I was put through, I never once told them where my brother and sister were.

And I still hold out strong today, even though, I really don’t know where they are. I just know the place they were the night our parents were killed.

I open my eyes and take a deep breath, staring directly in the watchful eyes of the Luna.

“Sorry, Luna Ismalda. I am grateful for the showers the Alpha graciously allow to have. You took me in when I had no one.” The words burn the tip of my tongue, tasting like acid as I spew the lies, they have tried to force me to believe. If my parents hadn’t been murdered, I wouldn’t have needed a place to call “home.” (Even though I use that term quite loosely.)

The Luna nods her head in approval at the words as they left me. “Exactly, we didn’t need to take you in,” she huffs. “We did it out of the goodness in our hearts.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her words. A word that I remember hearing Ramira say one of the last times I saw her comes to mind. At the time, I didn’t understand the meaning of it, but now I thinking I understand what she meant.

Gaslighting.

Narcissistic.

Two words that are perfect to describe the Luna and how she treats me.

“I need you to have the main ballroom prepared for tonight. We are hosting a visiting Alpha before the big ball tomorrow. Make sure it looks exquisite.” The last words come out as a small growl and once again I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

She already knows I am going to do the best I can, only because I hate the fucking consequences. And I truly doubt she would continue to let me prepare for these special dinners and events if I sucked that much.

“Yes, Luna,” I tell her, my eyes drifting to stare at the ground.

The moment the Luna leaves, I let out a low growl. I hate it here.

I turn to the small makeshift dresser in the room and pull out something semi-decent, with minimum stains.

I quickly brush my hair and pull out one of the wipes I managed to steal from under my bed. I wipe my face as best as I can, making sure to get as much of the dirt off of me as possible.

I raise my arms above my head and stretch. I wince as my joints pop, leaving me with an aching feeling in my bones. Fuck, it hurts.

I close my eyes, taking another deep breath. I mentally prepare myself to have to deal with the rest of the pack.

I quickly throw on my worn-out flats and rush down the stairs, careful to not slip on the half-broken stair leading from the attic.

I rush through the pack house, keeping my eyes down, and making sure I don’t bump into anyone. The quicker I get out of here without being noticed, the easier my day will be.

I rush out the door, wincing as I step foot outside. My feet automatically crunch in the snow and the brisk air hits me as I step outside.

My arms automatically wrap around my waist as I try to, unsuccessfully, shield myself from the cold. My steps pick up as I walk across pack grounds for the office buildings where not only all the rank members have their office, but it is also the home of the conference and ball rooms.

The moment I enter the building and the door closes behind me, I lean against the door to catch my breath, praying to the Goddess that the warmth of the building heats me up soon.  

Once I have caught my breath, I slowly rise from the door and make my way to the ballroom to begin the preparations for the diner the Alpha and Luna are hosting. I see the box with all the decorations laying on the table, as well as three different color schemes the Luna chose for me to work with, and I set to work.

I let my mind wonder while I aimlessly move through the steps. I have to do this so often for her, I can do it in my sleep. Decorating for her events aren’t that hard.

The shittiest part? After dinner tonight, I have to come in here and break everything down and start the preparations for the ball they are hosting tomorrow night. If I don’t get a head start on it tonight, then I will never finish on time in the morning.

My hands shake as I pick up one of the pieces of China. My fingers are still frozen solid from the walk here.

If only, the Alpha and Luna would give me some damn gloves and maybe a freaking hat. Or better yet, some better fucking shoes.

At this rate, I am surprised I haven’t had hypothermia yet.

I swear, I am surprised all of this walking in the frigid temps with barely any decent clothing on hasn’t killed me.

Although…as of right now, I feel like I am dead.

Seriously though, the winters here are always rough with lots of ice, snow, and frigid temps below zero.

Sometimes, I desperately wish another pack had ‘taken’ me in. Maybe I wouldn’t mind being reduced to nothing more than a slave if the weather was a slight bit warmer—like they say it is in California. I bet California never has temperatures that reach this flipping low.

I let out a long sigh.

It must be nice. 

They say once you receive your wolf, you won’t feel the frigidness of the cold anymore. Every night, I pray for my wolf to come…but at this point? I don’t think she ever will. My eighteenth birthday is tomorrow, and she still hasn’t come to me.

Rumor has it? If you don’t receive your wolf by end of the week before eighteenth birthday, then you are a dud—wolfless. Weak. Pathetic. Scum of the Earth. Wolves rarely come to those who are already eighteen; usually their bodies can’t handle the shift. You are at your prime age by 16 and unless you are continuously training, your body is going to be deemed too weak by the time you turn eighteen to be properly prepared for the shift.

It’s fitting, since that’s the way I have always been treated by the Alpha and his pack.