Chapter Two

Sophia’s POV

I stand in silent shock in the centre of the locked room for what must be a good hour or so. My eyes scan the opulent surroundings that hold me captive. The walls are adorned with intricate patterns of vines and leaves, bringing a touch of the outside world into this gilded prison. Soft sunlight filters through the pale green voile curtains, casting a warm orange glow over the room. In any other circumstance it would be the kind of room I would enjoy.

No amount of luxurious decor can mask the fact that this is still a prison, a luxurious cage designed to keep me under Zaine’s control and within his reach. This room is usually reserved for visiting alphas and their Luna, only the best for the best. I have cleaned it on a handful of occasions and often daydreamed that I would have had a room something like this. In another life perhaps.

The pack must be seen as one of power and influence, and this display of wealth and comfort is all part of the show. It is the polar opposite of my own room, a barren space with bare brick walls, a worn-out bed, and a chest of drawers on the verge of collapse. Three other beds, in a similar state of disrepair as my own, sit in the other three corners of the room, two of which are inhabited by my best friends and the other by Mrs Crook. The starkness had always been a reminder of our place in the pack, of our insignificance. Of course, visiting alphas are never shown the omega wing.

Zaine’s misguided belief that these lavish surroundings will somehow sway me, that they will make me forget the cruelty he has inflicted upon the omegas, is nothing more than a delusion. I know better. I know that I can never allow myself to be bound to such a cruel and heartless alpha, no matter how tempting his facade may be or how he chooses to punish me for my disobedience. To tell an alpha no, is to ask for a beating at best.

My thoughts are interrupted as the door swings open and Mrs Crook enters carrying a tray of food. Zaine dragged me off like a caveman before I had the chance to sit and eat in the kitchen with the rest of the omegas. Yep, you heard me right. We don’t even get to eat with the rest of the pack, and when we do eat it is whatever is left after serving everyone else. The head cook, Mr Fulch, is well practiced in making what he calls, empty the fridge soup. It is exactly what it sounds like, but it tastes surprisingly good.

“I know this must have all come as quite a shock Soph. I can’t promise you that everything will be okay, but look at where you are.” Mrs Crook places the silver tray on the ornately carved bedside table and turns slowly, taking in the splendour of the room.

“Where I am, is in prison. I would rather be with you and Hattie and Becks, back in our room. I don’t belong here. I’m scared shitless to even sit on the bed in case I dirty the sheets and earn a whipping.” I lift the corner of the immaculate white lace duvet cover to show her what I mean. When I let it fall back onto the deep mattress there is a small brown smudge where my thumb had been. It’s funny how I’m always cleaning but never feel clean myself. That smudge is just more evidence that I don’t belong here.

“That is enough of that language young lady, your mother would turn in her grave if she heard such words coming out of your mouth.” She chastises me like only she can. “You are in a unique position Soph. You talk about the changes you would make, how the pack should protect its vulnerable rather than exploit them. Being mated to Zaine could give you a voice, it could be the beginning of the changes you have imagined since...” Mrs Crook’s smile slowly falls into a frown. I know she is thinking of my parents.

There isn’t a day that goes by when we don’t mention them. It is my way of keeping them alive, and I know Mrs Crook misses my mother. They had known each other their whole lives, but she won’t tell me much about their lives before I was born. Mrs Crook has been the one constant, the only real comfort I have had through everything and the thought of being separated from her makes all of this even harder to bear.

I hear what she tells me, but it doesn’t really sink in. My mind is occupied by an overwhelming sensation of longing. Two sides of me are at war. My wolf wants her mate and pines for him even though she hates him for what he has done. Despite everything, he is the other part of her. Without him, she is incomplete and the pain she feels is very real. I am struggling with accepting that fate could be so cruel. I have always believed that those who suffer will be rewarded. I don’t know what could have given me such a foolish notion. Nothing in my life has ever backed up that belief.

“Are you listening Sophia?” Mrs Crook’s hand settling on my shoulder startles me out of my thoughts.

“Yes. No. Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” I sit on the bed and rest my thumping head in my hands. Fuck the clean sheets, he shouldn’t have locked me in here if he didn’t want a bit of dirt around the place.

“You have nothing to apologise for sweetheart. You should get some rest. Tonight will be a long night for you. As the mind link generates you will feel light headed and disorientated, it can be quite painful for some of us, particularly those who do not feel like they belong and fight the pack bond. Being fated to Zaine will not make it any easier for you unfortunately poppet. I imagine that is why it happens when we are asleep. When you wake, call to Me. I will bring you breakfast and we will talk again.” She smiles and holds my cheek in her warm hand. Honestly, I don’t know if I will still be here in the morning.

“Thank you, for coming to check on me, and for the food.” My stomach gurgles loudly. I haven’t eaten anything the slice of cold toast I crammed in my mouth this morning on my way to clean the dining hall. The aroma of melted cheese coming from the bedside table is making my mouth water and the gurgles from my stomach grow into an obnoxious growl.

“Zaine requested that food be brought to you, though I would have done it anyway. He also sent you these.” She turns around and picks up a bag I hadn’t noticed by the door.

“What is it?” I eye the bag suspiciously. She doesn’t answer, instead she holds it open for me to see for myself. “Clothes, really? He just magically pulled clothes out of nowhere?” I scoff in disbelief.

“He had Luca run into town.” She shrugs and lays the bag at the foot of the bed. I’m not sure what to think about all of this. Perhaps Mrs Crook is right, sleep seems like the best option right now. At least if I’m asleep I can escape the confusion swirling inside me like a tempest.

I watch as she leaves the room and my stomach ties itself into knots. Zaine’s gestures of providing me with food and new clothes are nothing more than attempts to soften me, to make me more receptive to his advances, of that I have no doubt. But I know better than to be swayed by such superficial offerings. I have survived perfectly well without him, and I will continue to do so in spite of him.

I can’t sleep yet, my stomach won’t allow it, so I put the tray of macaroni and cheese and garlic bread, and cup of apple juice, on the bed in front of me. The food is rich and creamy, and it doesn’t take more than a few loaded forkfuls to fill me to the brim. I push the tray aside and lean forward to grab the paper bag filled with clothes. When I turn over the tag on the first item, my eyes almost bulge out of my head. How can a simple spaghetti strap top cost so much? There is nothing to it, two bits of fabric and some straps.

I pull out item after item. Jeans, a couple of skirts, some dresses, a jacket, simple underwear, sandals. The prices get more and more ridiculous the deeper into the bag I dive. It sickens me to know my friends are eating scraps, yet the money spent on all of this could feed them for months. This gesture, whatever it is, only solidifies the knowledge that his treatment of us is a choice, not lack of resources or financial concern, just pure neglect. I only continue to dig in the hopes that Luca thought to get me something to sleep in. I would wear my own hand me down pyjamas, but I have no doubt there is someone guarding my door, and I have no desire to speak to Zaine if I try to leave and he catches me.

The clothes lay neatly folded at the foot of the bed, with the short and vest pyjamas I found last of all sitting on the very top of the pile. A note in the bottom of the bag catches my eye. It states that I will be joining Zaine for dinner in his room tomorrow evening. I laugh out loud at the audacity of his invitation, actually it isn’t even an invitation, it is a demand. Does he truly believe a fancy meal and his notorious powers of persuasion will bend me to his will? Somebody’s ego is about to be severely bruised.

I have to mentally prepare myself for what is to come. Zaine could use his Alpha powers as a way of commanding my obedience, of bending me to his desires, even if it goes against the highest laws of our kind. I won’t succumb to his manipulations, I can’t. I have to stand my ground. The only problem is, I don’t actually have any ground to stand on.

The door to the bathroom is open and a soft yellow glow lights a sliver of the bedroom carpet. It has gotten dark outside whilst I have been trapped in here with my thoughts. I didn’t realise how big it would be until I walked over to take a shower and wash the day’s grime off my tired body.

You could fit my shared room in the omega wing in here, with space to spare. The white bath sits on golden clawed feet in front of a stained glass, floor to ceiling window. The shower has no beginning or end, there is no curtain or partition, it just juts from the wall above the tiled floor which slopes gently towards a drain. The sink is big enough to bathe a small child and a huge mirror with daylight lamps either side of it hangs on the wall. Potted plants sit on several surfaces around the room and candles on tall, twisted holders sit in every corner.

A tiny voice inside me tells me I could get used to this. That is the voice I was scared of. The one that wants everything I know I shouldn’t have. I push the voice down and let my dusty, food stained, dress and apron fall from my shoulders to the floor. As I walk over to the shower I see myself in the mirror. My ribs stick out a little at the bottom, my long brown hair hangs limply to my waist and the pink and silver scars thatched across my back remind me of just how messed up this whole situation is.

I refuse to live in the pain of my past. Until this morning I had only let the good memories fuel my will to survive. Now that I am here, with him on the other side of the wall, I feel my repressed rage begin to bubble back to the surface.

The warm water beats down on my skin and washes over me, carrying the dirt and grime away with it. My sore muscles begin to relax and I tip my head back to let the shower rain down on my face and hair. It sounds stupid, I know, but this shower is so much better than the one I’m used to. It actually feels like it is cleansing me inside and out, washing away not only the dirt on my skin but the mess in my head too.

As I stand here, thinking about what Mrs Crook said, I realise she is right. I do have an opportunity. Zaine wants an heir, I want change. As Luna I could open doors that have been closed, bolted and boarded up. Would Zaine allow me to have a voice? I guess that depends on how badly he wants to ensure the continuation of his Alpha line.

With a huge fluffy towel from the heated rail beside the bath wrapped around me, I stand in front of the mirror and examine myself. I’m not ugly, nor am I anything special. My mother was beautiful, and I feel blessed to have her eyes. I have my father’s chin, though thankfully it has no hair on it, unlike his. My nose is my own and I hate that it turns up ever so slightly at the end, and the barely visible scar under my eye is a constant reminder of happy childhood days running around in the orchard with the other pups. This scar is from a fall out of a particularly high tree. I still remember the stinging pain and all the blood, before it eventually healed.

That little girl had no idea what life had in store for her. Her life was normal, happy and peaceful. She had two loving parents, good friends who led her astray as often as she did them. She went to school, played, and worried about nothing other than where her next rhubarb and custard lolly was coming from.

They used to be my favourite sweet, I can’t remember what they tasted like anymore, but I always had one in my hand. It became a custom of sorts, for my father to bring me a lolly every day when he returned from his duties guarding the border.

I know what I need to do. I’m not sure I have the courage to go through with it though. How many people have the balls to essentially blackmail their Alpha? Not many I bet.

I pull the heavy feather duvet back and climb into bed. My new pyjamas feel soft against my skin and the cotton sheets on the bed are crisp, cool, fresh, and clean. Tonight my mind will form a link with the rest of the pack and I will be able to talk to them no matter the physical distance between us. For most werewolves, the mind link is one of the biggest perks, for me it is another reminder of my own seclusion. It will be nice to be able to speak to Mrs Crook and the girls without fear of being overheard though.