Daddy-Sitting The Alpha King

ZOE ELISE

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I wasn’t one of the good girls.

I used to be, but I was eight years old when I first realized that being good didn’t automatically mean people would choose you.

“We can’t take her home.”

My tenth prospective family that year said those words to Flora, the matron of Crescent Moon Orphans’ Haven, after I'd spent the entire morning preparing to leave with them.

Their eyes had scrutinized me from head to toe as if they were deciding whether I was worth taking home. Eventually, they left with a younger girl. 

Their reason was simple: “She was abandoned outside the orphanage. She could be a cursed child, for all we know.”

The next week, another family rejected me. The month after that, another. Eventually, I stopped counting. But the rejection didn’t stop. 

One morning, I sat between a woman and her husband while they spoke to Flora as though I wasn't even there.

“If her parents didn't want anything to do with her, why should we?” the woman uttered without remorse.

Her husband glanced at me before adding, “We want a child with a traceable history, not a stray, Flora.”

I remember staring at my shoes. I remember the way my little fingers curled into the fabric of my dress.

And I remember smiling anyway. Because maybe if I smiled wide enough, they would change their minds.

They didn't.

Something inside me finally snapped. I realized that no matter how wide my smile was or how perfectly I behaved, I’d never be good enough for the people who came looking for a child.

So I stopped trying.

By the time I was eleven, most kids my age had been taken to better homes, leaving only a handful of us behind.

The other children quickly learned that I wasn't the kind of girl who let people step on her anymore. Unfortunately, a few decided that meant I needed to be broken. I vividly remember the hot afternoon when five of them cornered me in the playground.

Ashley, who was an unchosen kid like me but had somehow convinced herself she was better than me, led them.

“Look, it's the unwanted weirdo.”

Ashley giggled, crossing her arms over her chest while the four girls behind her spread out around me. I looked at all five of them as they blocked every possible escape route.

“If you were wanted, you would've been chosen already, Ashley,” I muttered.

Ashley’s smile fell instantly. I held her gaze, speaking loud enough for the other kids to hear. “You're only a year younger than me. Next year, you'll be an unwanted weirdo too.”

A few of the girls snickered while Ashley's face reddened.

“I'll never be you, Zoe!” she spat, stepping closer. “Your parents didn't want—”

“Neither do yours, dumb-dumb!” Those words flew out before I could stop them. 

Ashley froze, her lips trembling, and for a moment, I thought she was going to cry. Instead, she glared at me through the tears gathering in her eyes.

“That's because they died when I was three.” Her voice cracked. “I still remember them—”

“If they wanted you that much, maybe they wouldn't have died.”

Even now, almost twenty-one and lying on my thin mattress as I went down memory lane, the cruelty in those words still made my breath hitch.

But eleven-year-old me was too angry to care.

I recall gritting my teeth so hard my jaw hurt as I continued, “Or maybe they would've taken you with them to the spirit world.”

Loud gasps swept through the playground. Ashley's face crumpled before I could feel terrible for the words I had uttered. In the blink of an eye, her small palm connected with my cheek, snapping my head to the side.

For a second, I didn't move. I felt the burn in my cheek before slowly looking back at her.

“You're… ho-horrible!” she shrieked.

Horrible? Maybe.

But I wasn't going to let her see me cry, and I damn sure wasn't going to let her win.

I lunged forward, slamming my weight into her chest.

One of the girls behind me grabbed my hair, yelling, “Get her!”

Within a second, five pairs of hands were on me. Someone pulled my leg. Another girl clawed at my arm.

I screamed and kicked blindly, fighting back despite being outnumbered. I might have forgotten the little details of how the fight ended, but I’d never forget the rush of adrenaline when the other girls finally scrambled away, leaving Ashley alone with me.

We both ended up with swollen faces. But Ashley was the one with the bleeding nose.

She was adopted barely six months after that fight.

Before she got into her new parents' car, she looked at me, smirked, and said, “I’m not eleven yet, Zoe.”

Sniffling back tears, I watched her climb into her new parents' car. Before she closed the door, she whispered, “So I’ll never be you… because you’ll be left to rot here forever, Weirdo.”

As much as her words stung, she was right.

Ten years later, I was still living within the walls of the so-called haven—the first child in its history to stay that long.

Because of that, Flora finally sat me down two months ago, concern written all over her face as she handed me my official eviction notice.

“You’re sending a poor orphan packing?” I scoffed, my hands trembling around the edges of the paper.

“No, Zoe. We’re sending a fully grown adult into the world.” Her voice was soft, but somehow, it felt like another harsh rejection.

It reminded me of how unwanted I’d always felt.

Maybe that's why Ashley’s victorious smile had flashed through my mind. Or maybe it was because my two-month deadline had become three days.

Three days.

That was all I had left before I became a homeless twenty-one-year-old. I'd spent the last two months sending applications, attending interviews, and being rejected over and over again.

“We have to keep trying, Zo.” For the first time since I woke up that morning, my wolf, Peach, mumbled.

Her voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, but rather than thank her, I groaned and rolled onto my stomach.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for the past two months? No one wants to hire the waste from the orphanage.”

“It’s a big realm, Zo. Someone out there is bound to give you a chance.”

I snorted, but my anxious heart raced as my eyes darted around the room again. It was the tiniest and dirtiest room in the building, but it was still better than being homeless. 

“Or talk to Flora. She might be able to help.” Peach tried to pull me out of my spiral.

“We’ll see about—"

My words caught in my throat when my eyes landed on the vibrator I'd bought with the birthday cash Flora had given me last year. She hadn’t fully forgiven my choice of purchase, but right now, my nerves were fried, my heart was racing, and I needed something… anything to stop my brain from spiraling.

“Zo, we don’t have the time—” Peach began.

I picked it up before she could finish, certain that what I needed in that moment was an orgasm.

“You can’t be serious,” Peach scoffed inside my mind.

“If I’m going to be homeless, I might as well have one good orgasm first.”

I turned on the toy, a wicked smile spreading across my face. My eyes fluttered shut, rolling to the back of my head as I brought it closer to my—

“Zoe Elise!”

My eyes flew open just in time to see the bedroom door swing open, revealing Flora.

“You won’t believe—”

She stopped dead in her tracks, her dark eyes dropping to the toy between my legs before flickering up to meet mine. 

However, she didn't gasp or try to cover her eyes. This was, after all, far from the first time she had caught me making my own legs shake in the best way possible.

"Zoe Elise," Flora said, her voice dropping an octave into her classic matriarchal tone. "Must you behave like a wild wolf in heat every time I walk into your room?"

I chuckled, clicking the device off and tossing it onto the nightstand next to the discarded pink hair dye bottles. “At least I’m giving you a reason to miss me when I am gone.” 

Flora's breath hitched, and she looked at me for a moment before her eyes drifted toward the calendar hanging beside my bed. Then she whispered, “I’ll definitely miss you, Zoe.” 

Her words struck nerves I didn’t know existed within me, stirring my emotions, but before she could see them, I hid them behind a smile. “Are you kicking me out already?” 

“Yes, Zoe.”

My heart sank. Before I could swallow the lump in my throat, Flora added, “Because I found you a job with live-in benefits.”

“W-what?” I gasped. 

"Yes, and you’re to resume immediately… so pack your bags and meet me in the car park in thirty minutes."

Flora walked out, leaving the door wide open behind her. She hadn't given me a name, a title, or a single detail about the job. 

I had no idea she'd withheld that information because she was sending me straight into a nightmare.