Scarred Alphas

Prologue 

Mamma…

A small child shivers as cold river water dances around her skin. But even that icy bite is nothing compared to the coldness of her mother’s stiff embrace.

Mamma?

Mother is asleep—she must be asleep. That is what the child tells herself. But it doesn’t make sense. Mother won’t move. She won’t talk. She won’t kiss her or hug her. So yes…she must be asleep, but…

How does someone sleep with their eyes open?

Time passes. For the child, it feels like hours, though not even one has gone by.

“Mama, time to wek up.” Her little voice could warm anyone who heard it, but there is no one around to hear her. At least…not anyone alive.

Her words drown beneath the roar of the violent river, a sound so loud it almost swallows her whole. The current snaps and pulls at the water around her tiny legs, threatening to take her if she dares move any farther in.

The girl reaches out with a trembling finger and gently touches her mother’s lips. 

“Bue,” she says. “Pitty.”

Blue and pretty is what she means, but there is no one here to correct the three‑year‑old.

The tiny thing shivers. 

“Cold, mama. Itsh cold.”

Instinct finally takes over. Her legs wobble as they carry her out of the river to the edge, stumbling over river rocks that, to her, are the size of mountains. Each one bruises her bare feet, but she keeps going until finally she looks back.

Her mother lies half‑submerged, and fear grips the child’s chest. What if Mama drifts away without her? What if the river takes her like it tried to take them both?

But then she sees it. The leather belt around her mother’s wrist, tied tightly to the branch of the log her mother secured before their “adventure,” as she had frantically called it when the fireworks began. The log is wedged firmly against the bank.

Mama should be safe…right?

The little girl’s eyes grow heavy. The cold no longer bites. In fact, she can barely feel anything at all. Not even the burning pain on her chest that had been there before—the one her mother made her endure.

She clutches the necklace around her neck that her mother gave her. A necklace with letters she is too young to read.

Everything after that becomes a haze.

“What…oh!” A young woman appears. Someone the child does not know. “Oh my goddess!”

Warm arms wrap around the child, pulling her close. The girl slips into sleep, but the woman’s eyes catch on the necklace around the child's neck.

“C‑Cassiopeia?” she whispers, staring at the little girl. “How did this little thing end up here?”

***

Chapter 1 

Cass 

I stare at the moon while I stand here naked, not out of my own will. It’s a bright full moon. I should be in the forest, running, but instead I’m being punished. Again.

Another burning sting lashes across my back as the whip comes down. I hiss, but I don’t scream. I’m used to this pain.

“That’s enough,” one of the guards says.

Here I am at twenty‑three, and apparently I still haven’t “learned my lesson.” But what lesson is that supposed to be? That I should stay quiet? Accept insults, ridicule, and abuse without a word? Never. Let them whip me. Let them punish me. I will not go quietly.

When the guards unshackle me from the pole, my legs give out and I fall to my knees, too weak to hold myself up.

“Let’s go.” They grab me by the arms and haul me upright. Between the two of them, they carry me.

My eyes flutter as consciousness slips in and out. Through the blur, I see them heading toward the forest trail.

They’ll probably drop me off at home like they always do.

I fight to keep my vision steady, but the world tilts and fades. When I finally see my sister waiting for me, I let myself go and drift into sweet, merciful rest.

“Give it back!” I screech.

“You can’t be a weakling all your life, Cass. Try to get it from me!”

“Colt! Give it back!”

“That should be Alpha Colt to you,” Kayce says.

“He is thirteen! He is not Alpha! Give it back!” I jump, but my little legs and arms can only reach so high. Colt dangles my ragged doll even higher, though he doesn’t need to. He’s already much bigger than I am.

“But he will be, so you should show him some respect,” Kayce replies.

“No! Give me my doll back!”

“Say please,” Colt says with a big smile.

I stop and stare at him. His stupid smile suddenly enrages me. I pull my arm back and swing it straight into his nose.

He recoils, hands flying to his face.

The other two gasp, and then I’m thrown to the ground and stomped on.

“Who the hell do you think you are!” they shout as they kick me into the mud.

“Hey! Don’t hit her! She’s a little girl,” Colt yells.

“So?! She punched you! She can’t do that, and she’s the runt of the pack!” Ezra snaps.

Kayce nods. “Yeah! No one likes her anyway. And this is what Mom and Dad would do to someone like her.”

“I don’t care,” Colt mutters. “It’s not like it hurt that much.”

“You’re bleeding,” Ezra says, pointing at his nose.

“It’s fine.” Colt tosses the doll toward me and walks away. “Here. You can have it back.”

I look up with watery eyes, but before I can grab it, Ezra snatches it again.

“Waaah, she’s gonna cry! Hahaha!”

Kayce laughs with him.

“Give it...” I whisper, trying not to cry.

“How about this? Kiss my feet and I’ll give it back, Cassiopeia.” Ezra smirks, then mutters, “What an ugly name. Her mom must’ve been nuts when she named her.”

“Grrr!” My hands curl into fists. I don’t even think. I launch myself at him and take him down. His stupid laugh disappears as I punch him again and again. He shields himself with his arms, so I’m not doing much damage, but I feel satisfied—especially since everyone is watching me beat up one of the Alpha’s sons.

These three brothers are bullies. If the two younger ones weren’t so little, I’m sure they’d be here too, trying to mess with me.

“Cass…”

Stupid Alpha kids.

“CASS!”

“What?!” I jerk back to reality with a jump, the memory leaving me.

“What are you doing?” Lauren asks.

“Um…” I look around the field of vegetables. “Oh…sorry. I spaced out.”

“Well, don’t. We have to finish this before the festival tonight.”

Damn. I really spaced out. And why the hell was I thinking about that?

I glance at my nearly empty basket and speed up, grabbing tomatoes.

Probably because of the festival. It’s in his honor, after all.

I was eight back then. The Alpha himself had to pull me off Ezra. And of course, I got punished. I always get punished. I can’t control my temper, but I try. I have to. Even though I’m the one being bullied, I’m still the one who gets in trouble.

I roll my shoulders, feeling the soreness on my back.

“How’s that feeling?” Lauren asks.

“Just like getting whipped.”

She narrows her eyes.

“It’s better. Healing fast, like always.”

She sighs. “I know there’s no use saying this, but I’ll say it again: try to stay out of trouble. I always worry they won’t bring you back like they did yesterday.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m looking to make a career out of getting whipped.”

She gives me that serious stare. “Did I ever tell you you’re not funny?” She shakes her head. “You need to keep that temper under control.”

I frown, rolling my eyes. It didn’t use to be like this. After I got my wolf at eighteen, something changed in me. I have to control my anger now or I lose it. And even though the punishments have gotten worse, I still don’t learn my lesson.

Most people who get bullied like I do keep their mouths shut and lay low—act like wounded animals. I can’t. I will never be the broken, shy little girl everyone wants me to be. I’d rather take the beating that comes with standing up for myself. But I’ve had to learn to control my reactions. Not easy, but it minimizes the punishment.

“Look! They’re back!” one of the other field workers says.

Many are excited to see the young warriors return, but I’m not one of them.

I push a hand through my chocolate‑colored, unruly curls and look at the cars and vans rolling in.

Lauren touches my shoulder. “I know this is going to be hard for you, but please… control yourself. I’m sorry I even have to say that. I know it’s not your fault, but—”

“I know, Lauren. I know.”

She gives me a small, sad smile.

My poor sister worries about me. I’ve made a name for myself as the troublemaker of the pack, and she sometimes has to deal with the fallout.

I’m an angry soul. That’s what this pack has made me. I’m only content when I’m alone.

Taking a deep breath, I go back to work.

There are many jobs in a pack. I’m a field worker. That’s my role. We till the fields and tend the crops. As for my status, I’m a runt. The lowest anyone can be. I don’t excel at much except having a fighting spirit.

My attention drifts back to the vans and the warriors stepping out. People gather to greet them. These men have been gone for months at the fort camps, a territory away from the pack. That’s where they train young wolves when they turn eighteen, and they stay there for years. Omegas and runts like me aren’t allowed to join. We’re considered liabilities because we’re weak. To the ones in charge, we’re suited for the lesser jobs.

“Ignore it. Let’s just finish here,” Lauren says.

I nod and follow her lead. When our baskets are full, we head to the kitchen to drop off the vegetables. 

I pat my clothes, trying to shake off the dirt. I’m wearing a white shirt and a knee‑high khaki jumper dress that honestly looks more like a potato sack. It was a hand‑me‑down from one of Lauren’s friends.

As we walk toward the kitchen, we pass the courtyard where rogue prisoners are displayed. I stop and stare. They’re covered in fresh wounds. If they fall asleep, they get whipped. Even though they’re rogues and most of the pack hates them, I feel sympathy. Omegas aren’t treated much better. We get harsh punishments if we step out of line.

“I’m hot. Are you hot?” Lauren asks suddenly.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Maybe I’m horny,” she says.

I gasp. “Lauren! Stop! I don’t need to know that!”

She laughs so loudly. “You’re going to have to stay away from the house when James gets back.”

“Gladly!” I shout as she keeps laughing.

Lauren loves telling me to control my anger like it’s easy, but she can’t control her own tongue. This woman and her shameless mouth.