Chapter 5

Lilith's POV

I stood at the door, having just arrived home from the bar where I worked. The bar had been unusually busy, and I had to put in extra hours to attend to the influx of customers.

As I entered, I noticed my mother sitting on the couch, her face contorted with anger. Her glare sent shivers down my spine. She asked where I had been. I knew I had to explain everything, no matter how frightened I felt.

"I am coming back from work, mother," I replied softly, meeting her intense gaze.

"By this time of the night? You are coming back from work at this hour?" she asked, her voice dripping with irritation.

I glanced at the wall clock; it was just a few minutes past seven in the evening. I couldn't fathom why she was making such a fuss. Typically, I would be home by 5 or 6 pm. Was being an hour or two late really that significant?

Though infuriated by her reaction, I knew I had to remain composed if I wanted to continue living under her roof. I couldn't risk her throwing me out, especially now that I had no money of my own. 

She had taken everything I had saved, including the funds I had planned to use for my escape. Taking a deep breath, I sighed heavily, acknowledging that I might face another beating today.

With a sense of resignation, I closed the door behind me. Staying outside would only further provoke her anger, potentially leading to her locking me out again, as she had done before, leaving me drenched in the rain.

The memory of that dreadful night haunted me. Being locked outside by the one person I expected to be understanding was one of the worst experiences of my life.

I had spent the entire night with my eyes wide open, fearing what lurked in the shadows, especially since I was a weak beta wolf and, to make matters worse, a female.

Suddenly, my mother's voice cut through my thoughts, demanding an answer to her question. I was startled and filled with fear, struggling to recall what she had said.

"I am sorry, mother," I pleaded. Apologizing usually worked with most people, but my mother was different. It seemed that apologizing only fueled her anger further.

I vividly remembered a time when my apology had caused her to lose control, and she scratched me with her claws, leaving me wounded and helpless.

It was a traumatic experience, and I cried for days, taking two whole weeks to fully heal. Despite my injuries and sickness, I was still compelled to go to work every day and carry out all the house chores.

"You are sorry?" she snapped as she stood up and advanced towards me.

"This is it, she is probably going to hit me with that thing she has in her hand, I just have to endure it until she is done," I thought.

She held me by my hair, "I have warned you severely not to come home late, yet you have decided to disobey yet again, and all you could come up with is you are sorry?" she growled.

"No mother…I…I came home late because I had to work extra time today," I stuttered. She kept on glaring at me, and I saw it as a cue to continue talking, hoping she might be willing to reason with me.

Perhaps she would finally understand that my coming home late was completely unavoidable. "We had a lot of customers today, and I had to work extra shifts so I could attend to all the customers."

"I see, so that was why you came home late?" she said, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

"Yes, mother."

"So, where is the money you were paid for working an extra shift?" she asked, stretching out her hand as a wicked smile etched her face. I was totally lost for words. I had not been given any money.

I only offered help out of my own free will. I couldn't leave my manager and co-workers and go home when my shift ended, as there were a lot of customers to be attended to.

Especially not when every other person stayed back to help. Leaving at the end of my shift would have caused me to be hated even more by my colleagues, who currently didn't like me much.

"I wasn't given any money, mother," I said before everything completely went dark. She had landed a hot slap on my face.

"You worked extra time and didn't bother to get paid for doing so?" she asked in anger as she hit me with the rolling pin in her hand.

"Answer me, you useless witch," she said as she continued hitting me. I placed my hand over my face, trying to protect it from the weapon. It didn't need any further scars; the ones it had were more than enough already. I didn't mind getting hit on my body.

I was in severe pain, but I stayed in place without moving or dodging any of the beatings. Over the years, I have learned to develop tough skin. Everything done to me during these past years has managed to shape me into a formidable girl.

"Come back late next time, and you will feel my wrath," she threatened as she left me and went straight to her room. "Oh, she was done already?" I thought.

I went straight to the chair and sat down. My body felt very sore and heavy. Despite being a wolf, my body doesn't have the ability to heal itself. I often wondered why it was so. The moon goddess had been very unkind to me, making me lack in so many areas as a wolf.

Blood was dripping out of the wound where the pin my mother used on me drew blood. I needed to clean myself up. I looked at the floor; there were drops of blood too—my blood.

"Oh great! Now I have to clean the floor too," I murmured. I rose from the chair and went straight to my room and into the bathroom.

I fetched a bucket of warm water and a towel and started cleaning myself gently, wincing in pain at intervals as the pain was unbearable.

When I was done, I went straight to the living room to wipe the blood stains off the floor too. If my mother saw them, it would subject me to another round of beating. Thankfully, she was not there, so I cleaned the floor very fast and left.

My stomach rumbled, and I remembered the last time I ate food was in the morning. Although I didn't have much appetite, I knew I needed to at least eat something to regain some strength. I went straight to the kitchen to check if there were any leftovers from the food I had cooked in the morning before leaving for work.

There were none. Only dirty pots and plates to wash. "Great! Just great," I thought. Luckily, I found a morsel of bread on the top counter. I took it and ate hungrily, drinking a glass of water as I choked on it. Finally relieved a bit, I started doing the dishes.

I ached all over my body, but I had no choice. I needed to do the dishes myself because leaving them there for later would attract beatings.

As soon as I was done, I went straight to bed.

*******

The next morning, I woke up all sore in every part of my body. I went in front of the mirror to take a good look at myself. I was mortified by the reflection I saw. I had red swollen marks on places where I had been hit. My eyes brimmed with tears.

"I won't go to work," I thought. "There is definitely no way I would do that, while looking like this." I resigned and lay back on the bed with my face staring into the ceiling. I wondered why life could be so cruel. Why everything was happening to me.

What if I had succeeded in my plans to escape? Would I be in a better place right now? Would I be accepted by the new pack and treated differently than the way I am done here, or would I meet an even worse fate over there?

There was only one way to find out. I believe no pack would have a wicked woman like my mother. No one would treat a child, even if they weren't theirs, with so much hatred and bitterness like she did to me. I was still pondering when the door to my room opened. I immediately sprang up to my feet.

"Good morning mother," I said with a low tone, my head bowed. She ignored me and came closer to take a good look at me and my wounds.

"Why haven't you cooked anything or gotten ready for work?" she asked. I wasn't surprised at what I heard. I have lived with her all my life, so I wasn't a stranger to all her narcissism. She cared about no one else but herself. She had inflicted these wounds on me last night, but here she is acting as if they are invisible.

"Why haven't I gotten ready for work? So easy for her to say when she is not the one covered in wounds."

"I don't want to go to work today," I replied calmly.