Chapter 1

OCTAVIA.

I sat back on my heels and ran an arm across my forehead, wiping away the sweat beads that formed during the deep cleaning of this entire area. It’d taken me over three hours but was finally finished.

My eyes surveyed the room to make sure that I didn’t miss anything. This room was the one that I hated the most when it came to cleaning and maintaining because it took the longest time to clean. I thought that was precisely why it was always assigned to me. Actually, I took that back. I knew that was precisely why it was always assigned to me.

Not noticing anything, I pushed myself up from the floor and winced at the stab of pain in my side. There was no doubt that a deep bruise would be there once I undressed. It was just one of many.

Patti, one of my main tormentors, always took pride in her abuse towards me, as if it proved her loyalty to the Blood Lake pack just like all the rest of my tormentors did. That thought made me scoff.

Resentment filled me as I restocked the cleaning cart.

This was the last room that I needed to clean tonight. It was a damn good thing because it was already past eleven, and I had to be up in the kitchen at five in the morning to begin cooking breakfast for the pack. Thankfully, there were seven of us who cooked, so it wasn’t too horrible.

I ignored the sneers that were sent my way as I headed to return the cart to its proper place. I was used to the animosity that always surrounded me. It had been this way for six long years. All it took was one night for everything to change and nearly the entire pack to turn their backs on my family.

Whatever happened to packs being an extension of family? Ha! That was something that I learned to be nothing but a lie.

“Look who it is,” a guy drawled out as I made my way down the hallway.

“It’s the traitor’s daughter,” Bethany mocked.

She was one of Patti’s minions but less original than Patti. That was a low bar because her originality could really use some work.

They continued to taunt me, but I didn’t give them the pleasure of a response. People always aimed to hurt me with their words, but those words lost their power because of how often I heard them. I was glad that they didn’t follow me because my tolerating bullshit meter was already dangerously low right now, and nothing good would come of that meter running out.

This was how each one of my days went. I was mocked, ridiculed, and targeted by the pack that had once thought of the Stone family as an important part of it. All of that changed when Alpha Richard announced that Dad was killed as a traitor to the Blood Lake pack.

I sighed and shook my head, attempting to dispel those thoughts.

After putting the cart away, I made my way to the dingy place that I’ve called home for the past six years.

My bedroom was in the basement. The small room had concrete walls and flooring. A perpetual musty smell always greeted me each time I entered it, like one of those friends that you’ve tried your damnedest to get rid of but couldn’t.

My worn mattress sat on the left side of the room. It was really thin, but at least it was better than me sleeping on the concrete floor. There were also some books that I’d been able to steal over the years. They were my escape from reality. I might’ve already read and memorized all of them, but that didn’t matter.

Tears stung my eyes when they landed on Dad’s dog tags. No, he hadn’t been in the human military, but the werewolf world also had a military.

He trained for years to become a Sentinel, which was what the Werewolf Council’s soldiers were called. Each Sentinel was contracted for three years before they were allowed to decide if they wanted to extend their contract or would return to their packs. My father, August Stone, came back to the pack and quickly worked his way up the warrior ladder until he was given the Head Warrior position. Alpha was very pleased with how seriously he took his position.

Dad was instrumental when it came to instilling pack pride in me from a young age. He made certain that I understood it was our duty to protect the pack. That was precisely one reason why the pack’s treatment gutted me at first until I grew numb to it. Nothing I did would change their choices, so I had nothing else to do but endure it.

There came a time in each person’s life where they were faced with a dilemma – did they fight for change or for survival? Only one of those options had a chance of leaving me with my life intact.

I jumped into the cold shower and washed myself as quickly as possible. I absolutely HATED to bathe in cold water, but it was the only option that I had. It was a damn good thing that this basement had two full rooms with a shared bathroom. Cold water was better than no water.

Since I was young, Mom had always hounded me that we needed to find a silver lining any time we encountered a dark experience. I had truly tried once upon a time after everything went to shit, but it got harder and harder to do until it was nearly impossible.

I would’ve gone completely insane by now if it wasn’t for Storm. My wolf came to me a year after Dad died. She had been with me for the past five years and was my only saving grace in this world.

Unfortunately, the weakness in my body from the abuse that I suffered on a daily basis and malnourishment kept my body from being able to shift. Storm had never been in her own form. Never once had her paws touched the earth, nor had the moonlight touched her fur. She didn’t complain, but I still felt horrible that she was stuck with someone who was too weak to even shift like werewolves were meant to do.

‘Stop that,’ Storm said sharply. ‘I’m proud to be your wolfy. Even if I had the opportunity to get another human, I’d never ask for a different one. Tavi, you aren’t weak at all. You’re so damn strong to have survived everything that they’ve thrown at you. It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not because I know the truth.’

I sighed and pulled on a pair of threadbare pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt. It was cold down here during the night. This didn’t do much, but it was better than nothing.

My teeth bit my lip when I looked into the mirror. I took after Mom when it came to my appearance. I looked stereotypically Irish with wavy red hair and emerald eyes. My porcelain skin was also speckled with freckles. I took after Dad with my height though. I was right at six feet, which was taller than many females.

My body used to be filled with soft curves, but it had sunken in because I didn’t get the appropriate nutrition. I felt pretty when I was younger, but that was a lifetime ago. This was precisely why I hated my reflection.

I caught sight of the scar on my cheek. It was the first one that I ever received, given to me by none other than Alpha himself. A week after Dad died, I got in between Alpha and Mom when he went to strike her, taking the hit myself. The three-inch cut ended up as a scar since it was a bad gash and happened before Storm awoke.

Sighing, I brushed my hair out and braided it up. Then I slipped underneath my blanket and stared at the ceiling.

I’d lost count of how many times Storm told me those things because I felt anything but strong. Not a day went by when I wasn’t tempted to give into their torment, wishing for it all to end. How hard would it be to just let go and embrace an eternal reprieve from everything?

I was known in this pack as the traitor’s daughter. That was my designation. I was Octavia Stone no longer.

Many times, people didn’t realize what they had until it was gone. My identity was a great example of that concept. I had taken it for granted. If only time travel was a real thing. I’d go back and ensure that everything didn’t implode into whatever you called the disaster that was my life.

I would like to say that it was Mom and me after Alpha killed Dad, but that wouldn’t be accurate. She never recovered from the pain of losing her mate.

The supernatural connection that intricately entangled two souls together was one of the most powerful bonds that there was. That was precisely why losing your soulmate would drastically affect you. Many mated pairs didn’t survive their other half dying. They would be a shell of their former selves IF they survived the loss. Some people received second-chance mates, but not everyone was that lucky.

Mom lost herself a little more with each passing day. Pieces of her were carved out and tossed into the void.

I could tell that she felt guilty when it came to Dad, but I wasn’t certain why. I’d attempted to speak with her about what happened, but she insisted that it was too dangerous. She told me to remember Dad the way that he was because that was his true self. Never did we speak of it again. I’d often felt that she was hiding something, but I never figured out what it was before she too left me.

She could handle whatever the pack did to her, but it was a different story when it came to what they did to me. It simply piled onto the guilt that she already carried around like chains.

She took her own life eight months after Dad died, leaving me all alone. Perhaps I was a horrible person, but I couldn’t forgive her for leaving me alone to deal with a pack that wanted my blood because of what my father had done.

Something that I’d never understood was how people could not only torture someone innocent but also someone so young. It only took one day after Alpha made the announcement about Dad’s traitor status for the pack to start taunting us. It only took another two days before we were struck by pack members. It was downhill from there with a snowball effect after that.

I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for Storm. She pulled me back from the ledge each time I got a little too close.

You might be asking why I didn’t just run away to escape this hell. I’ve tried to run twice, but both times resulted in being beaten so badly that I nearly died. However, Alpha would never let me die because then his fun would be over.

For six long years, I’d been paying for the sins of my father. They had broken, bruised, and tortured me until I longed and prayed for death.

When would enough be enough? Could I ever pay enough restitution? Would it be discharged with my final breath, or would it carry over into the hereafter?