His Belamour

"I, Alexander Blackwood, Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, hereby reject you, Freya Armstrong, a mere Omega in my pack, as my mate!" Alexander's voice boomed through the chilled night air.

Desperation surged within Freya as she begged, "Please, don't do this, Alexander! I beg you!"

Before him stood a frail figure, clothed in tattered rags that offered little protection from the biting cold. Her pitiful appearance only fueled Alexander's anger, his eyes gleaming with fury as he violently kicked her away, his words dripping with disdain, "It's Alpha Alexander to you, and a lowly person like you doesn't deserve to have me as a mate!"

Turning his gaze to his waiting pack warriors, he barked, "Lock her up for daring to lay her filthy hands on me!"

Freya, weakened from laboring all night on an empty stomach, offered no resistance as the warriors dragged her away, heading toward a grim dungeon.

In the depths of despair, she caught a glimpse of a sight that twisted the knife of betrayal in her heart—her sister, Mariah, fondly entangled with Alexander.

A few weeks back, Mariah approached her to apologize for how she had mistreated her in the past. At first, Freya was suspicious, but seeing how Mariah continued being close to her despite being counseled by their father, alpha and even every member of the pack, she was forced to believe her.

Freya never would've guessed it was just a game Mariah chose to play for her own amusement. She chose to get closer to Freya in order to probe her to stop concealing her scent and confront Alexander who was her mate.

Mariah's words of encouragement filled Freya with confidence that she did exactly what she suggested, only to end up like this.

Now, seeing Mariah and Alexander in such compromising situation with Alexander, even though Mariah had claimed she was just close to him because he needed her help, made Freya realize she had been played.

The pack warriors threw her in the dark and damp dungeon and locked her in, then sat outside it. Her torment continued as the warriors guarding her cell expressed their cruel desires.

"Why can't we just end her life and rid ourselves of her? Her very presence weakens our pack," one warrior sneered, his contempt palpable.

"I've heard that Alexander plans to dispose of her soon, but he wants to keep up appearances," another added with a sinister grin.

"We'd have no qualms ending her ourselves if he gave the order," a third one chimed in, their voices brimming with malice.

Freya, her body wracked with pain, attempted to sit up. Almost immediately, the discussion among the warriors came to a halt.

"Luna!" They greeted someone with unexpected cheer.

The newcomer stopped before Freya's cell, her presence radiating an aura of authority. In her pain, Freya muttered, "You could've at least told me you were with my mate."

Her hunger-addled body couldn't even handle the simplest of tasks like speaking without causing her pain.

The other woman, Mariah Armstrong, scoffed callously. Freya raised her gaze slowly to meet Mariah's.

Mariah, an average-heighted beauty with a sweet smile, was the product of her father's infidelity after her mother's passing. Her father's betrayal remained a painful memory, as he'd chosen to remain with Mariah's mother on the night her own mother passed away.

Mariah's mother had been introduced into Freya's home shortly after her mother's hasty burial. Months later, her father revealed the existence of a nine-year-old daughter, Mariah, who happened to be the same age as Freya.

"Father wants me to become the Luna of this pack," Mariah declared, her gaze fixed on Freya, "and because I love him so much, I want to make him happy. You, on the other hand, were born an Omega, an embarrassment to Father. How could he father someone as useless as you?"

Freya bit down on her lower lip, forcing blood to come out of it.

Mariah was having a field day seeing how tattered and disheveled Freya looked and was about to continue mocking her when a voice from the shadows butted in. It was Will Nightingale, Alexander's Beta, known for his loyalty to the Alpha. "The Alpha has ordered her release."

Mariah's brow furrowed. "So soon? She did touch him with her filthy hands and had the audacity to appear in front of him as his mate. I expected him to do more than throw her into a dungeon."

"I was going to punish her but then news came to him a few minutes ago, that Alpha Steele, Alpha Hunter, and Alpha Knight are all on their way here," Will disclosed.

"The Three True Alphas?" Mariah's irritation transformed into excitement. "Did they mention why they're coming?"

Will shook his head. "Not a word, but Alexander hopes to assist them in every way possible, in the hopes of future collaborations."

With Will's orders, a pack warrior promptly unlocked Freya's cell.

Mariah's gaze bore into Freya as she crawled out, too weakened to stand.

"In the kitchen, there are plates awaiting you. Once you've finished washing them, you'll be fed," Mariah declared haughtily before marching away with Will.

Freya leaned against a wall, summoning her last ounce of strength to stand upright. She sensed disdainful glances directed her way but chose not to look, for such treatment had become all too familiar.

Upon entering the kitchen, Freya was met with a disheartening sight. Piles of dirty plates cluttered the sinks, some even littered the floor. The ungrateful pack members, who did little besides eating, left this mess for her to clean. After the arduous task, they would grant her meager leftovers to eat, often from the night before, claiming they couldn't let it go to waste with a "dog" in their midst.

"Those dishes won't clean themselves, godforsaken omega! Don't just stand there!" she heard a voice sneer, causing her to flinch.

Without a wolf, Freya was deemed unworthy of the title of a werewolf, and her abilities were severely restricted. Aside from her heightened sense of smell, she possessed no other talents.

Thus, she hadn't noticed the Pack's head chef entering the kitchen. She hastened to the sink and began washing the dishes while the chef busied themselves with preparing dinner for the pack.

The tantalizing aroma of the cooking food made her mouth water. When the chef briefly left the kitchen, driven by hunger, Freya couldn't resist sneaking a spoonful of the meal.

"So, now you steal food intended for the pack?" The chef's voice caught her off guard, causing the spoon to tumble onto her leg, the hot food scalding her.

Yet, the pain paled in comparison to the dread that washed over her as other pack members entered the kitchen.

"I c-c-can explain," she stammered anxiously, retreating a step as they advanced on her.

"What explanation do we need when we clearly saw you pilfering from the pot?" one of them hissed, their anger palpable.

Freya's gaze darted around in fright, her mind racing for an escape.

The man in front of her seized a pan and delivered a brutal blow across her face, sending her tumbling several meters away while another rushed up to her and kicked her on the abdomen.

The others rushed toward her, brandishing their weapons, ready to strike. But before their blows could land, a commanding voice resonated from the kitchen door.

"Stop!"

Every motion froze as they turned to see Will, his brow deeply furrowed, entering the kitchen.

"What's happening here?" he demanded as he strode closer.

"We caught the omega stealing food meant for the pack," someone explained.

Will's gaze shifted toward Freya. He approached her, raised his right leg, and brought it down with unrelenting force upon her back.

A sickening crack echoed through the room, and Freya's agonized cry resounded in the kitchen.

Will withdrew his leg, clasping both hands behind his back, and addressed the gathering. "We cannot predict when the Alphas will arrive, and we mustn't allow them to discover an omega in our pack. Chain her somewhere away from prying eyes."

With those words, he departed, leaving two pack members to handle Freya as if she were refuse.

They dragged her mercilessly to the dungeons. This time, the dungeons where rogues and other dangerous people were being held captive.

"No! Please, don't abandon me here! I promise to stay in my room and never emerge until the Alphas have come and gone! I implore you," Freya begged frantically.

However, the two men ignored her pleas, shoving her into a cell and securing the door with a padlock.

"Do us all a favor and end your life before the Alphas arrive," one of them spat, his voice laden with hatred.

His menacing glare silenced Freya, leaving her to cower in the darkness until they departed.

"You seem quite disspirited," a masculine voice echoed from behind her.

Startled, she spun around, peering into the cell. Although she bore no wolf-like traits, the newcomer quickly deduced her identity.

"You're the omega," he stated matter-of-factly.

Freya took a step back, clutching the cell bars as if they could shield her from his scrutiny.

"Indeed, you are the despised pack's omega," he affirmed, his lips curling into a wry smile.

However, his expression shifted, his brow furrowing moments later.

"Intriguing," he muttered, his lips pressing together.

"You're not a werewolf," Freya observed, her voice quivering.

"No, I am not. I am a wizard," the man replied.

"You're a witch."

"No, dear. 'Wizard' is the term for males, while 'witch' is reserved for females. Clearly, I don't resemble a female, making me a wizard," he explained, his tone strained.

Freya opened her mouth a few times, unable to find the right words.

"What's the matter? Never encountered a wizard before?" he scoffed, offering a faint, enigmatic smile.

"I've heard they're vengeful," Freya mumbled, her gaze unwavering.

The man chuckled and raised his hands, revealing that they, too, were bound in chains.

"Your Alpha took precautions by chaining me. He knows that if I were free, I could unleash a fire that would consume this entire pack, along with everyone in it," he explained with a certain gravity.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Freya posed an unexpected question, her voice trembling with curiosity. "How can I become a witch?"

"People don't become witches. It's a gift you're born with," he replied solemnly. "Forgive me, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Hezell."

Freya never got a chance to respond as hasty footsteps approached. She turned her back to him, trying to discern who was coming.

It turned out to be the same men who had brought her to the cell.

"Mariah expects you to assist in the kitchen. You're not to leave until the Alphas have retired for the night. Do you understand?" the one in front ordered.

Before Freya could respond, they unlocked her cell and roughly pulled her out.

"She's a woman; handle her with care!" Hezell's voice echoed behind them as he tried to move forward, but the chains restrained him.

As she was dragged away, she thought she heard him mutter, "She might have you beheaded tomorrow."