One

Snow

The alarm blared. Tiredness—my only ritual.

I yanked off the covers, splashed water on my face, and saw the clock. Five minutes left. My stomach dropped.

"Fuck—Micheal will kill me today," I muttered, yanking on clothes as I raced downstairs. My white hair was a curse in this pack. People preferred I hide it while doing chores, so I wrapped a scarf around it before entering the kitchen.

"Snow," Mrs. Franklin — the chief cook — said the moment I stepped in. "You're late! Hurry."

"Sorry, Peggy." I pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Mrs. Franklin was the only one who ever saw me for me, not for the tag stamped on my back after that fateful night. "I was tired."

Her face softened. She reached out and brushed my cheek. "I wish I could—"

"It's okay." I forced a smile, "Nothing anyone can do."

"Chop, chop! White-haired bitch." Her voice sliced through the kitchen before I even turned.

I watched as Danica walked in with a scowl, "You're late. The alphas expect breakfast — and bring it to their rooms. They won't join us today."

Mrs. Franklin opened her mouth to protest. "I can take—"

Danica snapped her eyes to her and Mrs. Franklin shut up like she'd been slapped.

"I see you always defend this slut, Mrs. Franklin," Danica said as she inspected a drying nail. "Want me to take this up with the alphas?"

Mrs. Franklin lowered her gaze. A satisfied smirk ghosted Danica's lips.

You couldn't disobey Danica. The alphas owed her—gratefulness stitched into old debts. Those debts never measured my pain. They only measured my guilt.

The boys I'd loved with everything inside me had become strangers. I hardly recognized them anymore.

"What are you waiting for? Get to your duties!" Danica barked.

My jaw clenched. If I'd had freedom, I would have snapped her head clean off. It would have been effortless.

But I didn't. I was the killer—tagged for Rose's death, accused of taking the life of Alphas' sister. One wrong word, and I'd be dead. The triplets made sure I suffered; death was too easy.

"Sure," I bowed and grabbed the trolley, pushing out of the kitchen.

Warriors' filthy glances trailed me as I took the lift and punched the button for the third floor — the Alpha floor. Six rooms lined the corridor: three for them, and three others that had always been locked since I was a child. Nobody entered them. I didn't know why. Orders from Robert — the previous Alpha and the triplets' father — were absolute.

Robert's name tasted like bile. I hated him. If I ever died, I promised myself I would take him with me.

My thoughts snapped when Micheal's scent hit me. I stopped in front of his door.

Fuck.

The torture began.

I held my breath and knocked twice. A pause. "Come in," his voice said.

I stepped across the threshold, but my feet froze. The sight seared itself into me: Micheal behind his desk, a blonde bent before him, his hand sliding down her back before landing in a hard slap on her butt that made her gasp.

I wanted to disappear.

"Why are you just standing there, Snowflake?" Micheal asked, his smile twisted as he leaned down and sank his teeth into the girl's shoulder. She shivered beneath him.

Snowflake — the nickname that used to warm me when everything was perfect. Now it tasted like repulsion and pain. It wasn't affection anymore. It was mockery.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch, or are you going to give me my breakfast?" Micheal's chuckle was low and poisonous.

He knew exactly how much it hurt. That was the point. That had always been the point.

"Sorry, Alpha." I bowed, pushing the trolley deeper into the room, my heart hammering at my ribs.

Micheal was sculpted—too beautiful for mercy—but beauty didn't help me. His blue eyes burned with contempt every time they found me, turning my chest to ash. His lips curled into insults that ripped me open. His laugh, once melodious, was only venom when it touched me.

He looked like a god.

He was the god of pain.

I missed Rose. God, I missed her.

"What did you bring?"

I hurriedly looked at the trolley, trying to speak but he beat me to it.

"If you wanted to know, I already saw," Micheal said, eyes flicking to the trolley as his hand left the girl's neck and rested on the desk. "You murder quicker than you speak."

There it was — another stab.

Micheal had a talent for words. He could dismantle me with a single sentence.

"Try it yourself," he said, releasing the girl. She whimpered at the loss of contact and settled into his chair, smoothing her dress.

"Sorry?" I asked.

"What? Can't hear?" He tapped the side of my head with sharp fingers. "Try it!"

I flinched and snatched the extra plate Mrs. Franklin had clearly packed with some forethought. Their suspicion of me grew daily, spiraled beyond control. The more time I spent alive, the more convinced they became that I'd done something worse.

I took a slice of toast and bit. The bread was perfect, but it tasted bitter standing in front of Micheal. Hunger didn't make it sweeter.

"Your skills rusted," he murmured, taking the plate and a bite. "I wonder when the 'I'm a victim, not the killer' mask will fall." He brought the toast to the girl like a master rewarding a pet; she opened her mouth and took it like a child.

He controlled his playthings well. That control bought him every woman in his orbit.

"Good little one, aren't you?" he chuckled, brushing crumbs from her lips. The gesture stung; I didn't know why. Maybe because once I'd convinced myself I might be mated to with one of them — Micheal, Lucas, or Alex. The thought now chilled me down to the bone.

That fear is why I delayed my shift each year. I swallowed pain to avoid finding my mate in this pack. I couldn't bear the thought of a mate who was one of them. I wanted freedom. I wanted to uncover that brute Robert without the pack shackling me to more pain.

"You want another bite, Snowflake?" Micheal smiled — poison sealed behind his lips. "Come here."

"No, Alpha." I shook my head, stammering, "I— I was only—"

He was already moving. His hand clamped my jaw so hard it bruised. "You must be hungry," he said, and forced the sandwich into my mouth. I shook my head and then obeyed; his command was a cage.

"Eat, or face something worse than that black cell," he growled. His voice dragged me back to months in the dark — cold nights, barely any food.

I bit down, tears spilling. Micheal's smile widened with satisfaction. "Such a good little killer you are," he whispered, wiping crumbs from my lips with a hand that lingered too long. "No wonder Rose never suspected you — those crocodile tears are a masterpiece. She was stupid to trust you."

Rose's name hit me like a stone. My fists flew to my sides, my jaw grinding. I spat the food to the side and grabbed his shirt collar. "Don't you dare call her stupid!"

His eyes darkened.

"Or what would you do?"

I flared, "Do you not get it?! I did not—kill Rosie, damn it! I tried to save her—I tried so fucking hard to save her that night. Bu...That monster you call father? He fucking watched. He watched as that rogue killed her! He watched that rogue shed her blood! If anyone's to blame, blame him — and yourselves. You all failed her—not me. Because I tried everything I could to save my best friend!"

Before I could steady myself, Micheal's hand wrapped around my throat and slammed me against the wall.

His hand tightened, and the world went white—just like my hair.