The Alpha’s Genius Dud

The soapy water was grey, lukewarm, and smelled of bleach, a scent that Faith had to endure. At five in the morning, the bungalow was silent.

Faith wiped her sweat and tied up her hair to stop

It from falling over her forehead; her knees ached. This was her life in the “trenches”. a cycle of scrubbing, serving, and staying silent.

She didn't mind the work. What she minded was the cage.

“Still in the hallway, Faith? You’re slowing down. Maybe you’re getting old,” a mocking voice drifted from the top of the stairs.

Faith didn't look up. She didn't need to. That sharp, entitled tone belonged to Maya, her cousin. Maya was nineteen, the same age as Faith, but they lived in two different worlds. Maya wore silk pajamas and smelled of expensive vanilla; Faith wore an oversized hand-me-down shirt and smelled of chemicals.

“I’m almost done, Maya,” Faith said quietly, her voice breaking.

“It’s Miss Maya to you dummy”, her cousin snapped, stepping over Faith’s bucket and purposely kicking it.

The dirty water splashed over the floor Faith had just cleaned. Faith’s grip tightened on the rag until her knuckles turned white. She closed her eyes, counting to ten. In this world, a world governed by the Moon and the strength of the Wolf—Faith was a “Dud.” At eighteen, most of the pack had already shifted. Maya had shifted into a sleek, sandy-brown wolf a few months ago. Faith? Nothing.

To the pack, she was just a human-shaped error. A freak.

“Clean it up. Again,” Maya smirked, admiring her manicured nails. “And don't forget, the Silver Moon Scholarship applications close today. Not that a wolfless charity case like you would ever have a chance.”

Maya strutted into the kitchen, leaving Faith alone in the wet hallway.

Faith let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She reached into the hidden pocket of her leggings and felt the crumpled piece of paper. It was the entry form. She had spent the last three months sneaking into the back of the local library, using the outdated computers to research urban development and sustainable energy.

While Maya spent her nights at pack parties, Faith was teaching herself advanced calculus and architectural design. She wasn't just “brilliant for a girl who barely went to school”. She was a prodigy. But in a house where her brilliance was seen as a threat to Maya’s ego, she had to play naive to survive.

Two hours later, the house was a whirlwind of chaos.

“Faith! Where is my blue blazer?” her Aunt Sarah screamed from the master bedroom.

“Faith! Make me a smoothie! No kale this time, it tastes like grass!" Maya yelled from the vanity.

Faith moved like a ghost, navigating the demands with practiced precision. She handed the blazer to her aunt, a woman whose beauty was a sharp mask for her cruelty. Sarah looked at Faith, her eyes narrowing as she took in the girl’s face. Faith was really beautiful. She had high cheekbones, deep, soulful eyes, and skin that looked like it was lit from within, despite the lack of sleep.

It was that beauty that made Sarah hate her. It reminded her too much of the sister she had always envied—Faith’s mother.

“You’re staring, Faith,” Sarah said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Did I give you permission to look at me?”

“No, Aunt Sarah. Sorry.” Faith looked at her feet.

“Good. Maya is heading to the Academy for the Scholarship Presentation. You will stay here and prep the guest room. The Alpha’s regional scouts might be passing through the city. If there is a single speck of dust, you won't eat for three days. Have I made myself clear?"

“Yes, Aunt Sarah.”

As soon as the front door slammed and the engine of Maya’s car faded into the distance, Faith’s demeanor changed. The slumped shoulders straightened. The dull look in her eyes sharpened into a fierce flame.

She ran to the basement—her “room.” It was a cramped space next to the water heater, but it was hers. Under a loose floorboard, she pulled out a sleek, thin laptop she had rebuilt from scraps found at the junkyard.

She opened the file; Project Phoenix.

It was her presentation for the Silver Moon Scholarship. It wasn't just a school project; it was a blueprint for a new kind of city, one that didn't rely on the brutal hierarchy of Alphas and Omegas. It was genius. It was dangerous. And it was her only way out.

She hit Submit at 11:59 AM.

A green checkmark appeared on the screen: Application Received. Applicant ID: Phoenix-01.

The afternoon was a blur of frantic cleaning. Faith worked with a strange energy, a hope she hadn't felt in years. If she won, the scholarship wasn't just money; it was protection. The winners were under the direct patronage of the High Council. Not even Aunt Sarah would dare touch her.

At 6:00 PM, the door clicked open.

Faith was in the kitchen, plating a modest dinner for herself—a bowl of plain rice. Maya stormed in, her face red, her eyes glowing a faint, angry amber.

“You bitch”, Maya hissed, walking straight up to Faith.

Faith felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. “What happened? Did the presentation go well?”

“Don't play dumb!” Maya grabbed the bowl of rice and threw it against the wall. The ceramic shattered. “The judges called me into the office. They said they received a late entry that ‘redefined the parameters of the competition.’ They said my work—the work I borrowed from your notebooks—looked like a child’s drawing compared to this ‘Phoenix’ applicant.”

Faith kept her face a mask of confusion. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

"You pathetic Liar!” Maya lunged, her wolf-strength pinning Faith against the counter. The smell of an angry predator filled the room. “I saw your handwriting on the digital sketches, Faith. I recognize the way you draw your 'F's. You think you’re better than me? You’re a wolfless orphan living in my basement!”

“I just want a future, Maya,” Faith gasped, trying to pry Maya’s iron grip from her throat.

“You have no future,” a cold voice said from the doorway.

Aunt Sarah stood there, holding Faith’s rebuilt laptop. Her face was calm, which was far scarier than Maya’s rage.

“I found this in the basement. You’ve been keeping secrets, Faith. Expensive ones.” Sarah looked at the laptop, then dropped it onto the floor and crushed it under her heel. Crunch.

Faith let out a small, broken cry. That was months of work. Her only one connection to the outside world.

“You've become too smart for your own good,” Sarah said, stepping closer. “You’re a threat to this family’s reputation. If the pack finds out an ordinary ‘Dud' is smarter than the Alpha’s daughter, we’ll be a laughingstock.”

“I won't tell anyone!” Faith pleaded. “I'll withdraw! Just let me stay.”

Sarah looked at Maya—a look of dark, silent agreement. “Oh, you aren't staying here anymore Faith. I’ve already made arrangements. There’s a labor contractor in the North. They don't care if you have a wolf or not. They just need pretty girls who can follow orders.”

Faith’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. “No. You can't. That's illegal!”

“In this city, I am the law,” Sarah smiled. She pulled out a small syringe from her pocket. “Drink your tea, Faith. Or I’ll let Maya shift and play with you first.”

Faith looked at Maya, whose claws were starting to extend. She looked at the door, but it was locked. She was trapped.

“Okay I’ll do it,” Faith whispered, her voice trembling.

As the needle pierced her skin, the world began to tilt. The last thing she saw was Maya’s triumphant smirk and her aunt’s cold, satisfied eyes.

“Sleep tight, little bird,” Sarah whispered. “You’re going to a place where your brain won't save you.” Sarah let out a wicked laugh.

Faith’s eyes closed as Darkness took her.