1: Ugly cow

“I hate you,” I mutter.

He grins. “I know. Spread your legs.” My body obeys, and he drags the lace down my hips. “Wider, Somi.”

.*.

.*.

.*.

.*.

PART I (THE SELECTION) C1: Ugly cow

SOMA

A slap lands hard across my cheek the moment I enter my cousin’s room, stealing the breath right out of my lungs. I step back to protect myself, but the second slap cracks across my other cheek, snapping my head to the side.

“Where were you, you ugly cow?” Maeve, my cousin demands. She takes one step forward, and I flinch, using my hair to shield my face. “Wait, are you trying to run?”

“N-no,” I stutter. I force myself to stay put, my hands shaking at my sides. “Of course not. I came as soon as you called.”

Someone laughs from the bed. Sheila, her elder sister. Maeve takes one look at me, walks back to the dresser, and sinks into the padded chair in front of it. Picking up her makeup bag, she applies a dark shade of purple to her lips.

“What took you so long?” she asks with a glare.

Sometimes, I can’t tell when she really wants an answer from me. She was the same person who told me not to eat or leave her sister’s room until I was done scrubbing the toilet.

“Have you gone deaf?” she barks.

“No. I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I’ll act faster next time.”

Sheila remains quiet on the bed, applying pink nail polish to her toes. Anyone looking at us now will think I’m their slave, but my only crime is being an omega.

Here in Shadowspire pack, pets have more rights than I do. That’s what happens when your mother is foolish enough to fall in love with an omega and elope with him because no one approved of their relationship.

Father died in a raid, and Mother followed shortly after conceiving me. Now, I’m cursed with a weak wolf that I can’t shift into and a body that falls sick every full moon.

Some say I’m lucky my mother’s sister was generous enough to take me in. But life in Aunt Helen’s household hasn’t been easy. Things were better before her husband, Uncle Dorian, died. But since his death, his wife and kids have never missed a chance to make every waking moment hard for me.

“You’re wasting time, Maeve,” Sheila whines. “Tell her what you want already.”

“Right.” Maeve clears her throat. When she looks at me again, she has her usual condescending smirk in place. “I need you to head to Color Lounge and fetch us a bottle of Glow Oil.”

But they were at Color Lounge earlier in the day. Is she trying to punish me again? I’ve had nothing to eat all day.

Color Lounge is the biggest beauty store in Shadowspire pack. Entry is determined by the amount you intend to spend. I don’t know why they keep wasting money on the Glow Oil when nothing about their faces changes.

“We forgot to get some while out shopping today,” Sheila supplies. “And I need it for my makeup.”

With the Luna selection ceremony fast approaching, the two of them have become more obsessed with their looks. Their mother spent all summer on their training, teaching them princess etiquette in case one of them is selected by the Moon Goddess and paired with the crown Alpha prince, Prince Brynne Rybak.

As if my cousins aren’t already insufferable enough, granting them such immense power would mean my demise.

“Have you really gone deaf?” Maeve snaps.

“Yes. No. No, I’m sorry. But—” My stomach knots, and I place a hand over it like it will reduce the pangs of hunger. Going to the store means my food will be even more delayed. The last time I ate was at lunch yesterday. It’s past five already. “I’m still busy with the bathroom. It will take another half hour. Can I finish that first before going to Color Lounge?”

Her condition was that I had to clean up first before eating. If I leave now, I might not get any food today.

“What did you just say to her?” Sheila whispers.

Sheila’s voice is deathly calm, but I’ve lived here long enough to know it’s the quiet before something breaks. She snatches the nail polish off the bed and hurls it at me.

My muscles tense a second too late. I flinch as the glass grazes my cheek, but that pain is not enough to stop me. My body moves on instinct. I dive forward, knees hitting the rug as my fingers curl around the bottle before it hits the floor.

If it breaks, it will be one more reason for them to deny me food. I can’t take any more punishment on an empty stomach.

A deafening silence settles over the room. Pain erupts in my knees when I try to rise, but I force myself to my feet. My cheeks sting, but I don’t dare act like it in their presence. They feed off my pain. Sheila scoffs, eyeing me as I inch closer to the bed to return the nail polish.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Always sorry,” Sheila spits. “Never useful.”

“Listen to me carefully, you dimwit. This will be the last time such happens,” Maeve warns. From the Queen-sized bed, Sheila chuckles. “When I ask you to do something, you do it. If I ask you to bark, your next question should be how loud. Do you understand me?”

My head bobs, and I swallow the urge to cry.

“Y-yes,” I reply.

Maeve stands and stalks to her closet. A second later, a wad of cash smacks against my chest, dropping to the floor before I can catch it.

“Now, head to Color Lounge. Be back here in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes? That means I can’t walk, but my bicycle has mood swings. You can’t tell when it will work. I grab the money and rush out of the room, ignoring the growl of my stomach and the burn in my thighs.

Pain is nothing compared to what awaits me if I’m late. The wind bites against my skin as I step out. I head to the driveway where their cars sit untouched. My old bicycle leans against the far wall, old and rusted but faithful.

Gripping the handlebars, I swing a leg over and pedal hard. The Moon Goddess must be on my side today. Because the wheels squeak, protesting after days of disuse, but they move.

To make the journey faster, I follow a shortcut. But the road is uneven, and the path is littered with potholes and last night’s rain. An engine growls in front of me as I round a bend cutting into the main road, and a black car barrels past me.

The tires drive through a nearby puddle, splashing cold, murky water across my chest, face, and legs. I gasp, braking hard. The chill punches through my clothes, and I shiver.

But the car doesn’t stop. The royal flag on the hood flaps in the wind. Of course, it has to be a royal. I stare after the car, soaked and dripping, and a sob tears from my throat.

“Don’t cry. Don’t cry,” I tell myself over and over again.

But the tears I’ve been holding back since I left the house finally spill down my cheek. I clutch the handlebars, my body trembling. One day, I’ll be able to leave this place. Until then, I’m just Soma, an omega at the bottom of the werewolf food chain, and no one is coming to save me.