Chapter 2

Tyla POV

It had been five years since I'd watched my entire world shatter before my eyes. Five long, cruel years since my parents, my best friend, and his family were slaughtered right in front of me.

The laughter of their killers still echoed in my ears—a cruel melody I'd never forget. I was left alive, though I often wished I hadn't been.

Five years since the Alpha condemned me as the traitor's daughter, stripped me of everything I'd ever known, and reduced me to this shadow of a girl working in the packhouse kitchen until my fingers bled and my back screamed for mercy.

That was my life now, day and night, relentless work with no end in sight. Though I was 18 now, I had been a child of 13—barely in the eighth grade—when my life turned to ash.

Tonight was no different. I knelt on the cold tile floor, scrubbing at a greasy pot that refused to come clean. My red hair slipped from the makeshift bun I'd tied it in this morning. The strands clung to my sweat-streaked face as I swiped at them, smearing grease across my cheek.

"You've got grease on your face, Tyla," I muttered to myself with a bitter laugh, as if anyone here cared how I looked.

The sound of giggles broke my concentration. I looked up just as the kitchen door swung open, revealing the Alpha's twin daughters, Mira and Lyla. Their glossy black hair and identical hazel eyes shone with life the way only the privileged could glow, and their laughter was like tinkling bells. They were two years younger than me, but unlike me, their lives had been filled with joy, schooling, and endless opportunities.

"Did you see how he smiled at me today?" Mira gushed, grabbing an apple from the counter.

"Oh, please," Lyla scoffed, leaning against the doorway. "He was looking at me, not you. Carter likes confidence, Mira, and I have plenty of that."

"You're delusional!" Mira laughed, throwing a grape at her sister.

Their chatter washed over me like a cruel reminder of what I'd lost. I hadn't been to school since I was a little under their age. My chance at an education ended the day my parents were slaughtered and the Alpha decreed I was to serve the pack as punishment for their supposed crimes. Still, I couldn't help but smile faintly at their banter, remembering what it felt like to have a carefree life.

As I scrubbed harder, pretending not to listen, a sharp smack landed on the back of my head. Pain radiated through my skull, and I spun around, my face heating with embarrassment.

"You filthy girl!" barked the head chef, Patricia, a stout, middle-aged woman with a permanent scowl etched into her face. "Tie that disgusting hair up! Do you want to contaminate the food?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." I murmured, keeping my head low as I hurried to wash my hands.

The twins laughed behind me, whispering sly remarks that burned in my ears as I retied my hair.

"She looks like a drowned rat," Mira whispered loud enough for me to hear.

"Maybe if she scrubs hard enough, she'll finally wash away the stink of her traitor parents," Lyla added with a smirk.

They left the kitchen, still giggling, while Patricia barked at me to hurry up. "Dinner's not going to serve itself! Move it, girl!"

When dinnertime came, the kitchen was a frenzy of activity. I worked alongside some Omegas, loading food onto trays. I envied them. They had shifts and breaks; they could go home when their duties were done. I never got that luxury.

As I carried a tray into the packed dining hall, the noise of laughter and conversation swirled around me, but I tried to keep my head down. Being noticed here never ended well for me.

"Hey, traitor!" Timothy, the new Beta, called out as I approached the Alpha's table.

My stomach twisted. I knew what was coming. I placed the tray on the table, and before I could step away, his hand grabbed my rear through my thin dress.

I jumped, a sharp cry escaping my lips as the room erupted in laughter.

"Stop it," I begged, tears welling in my eyes. "Please, don't..."

"Why?" he sneered. "You're wolfless, Tyla. No mate's coming to claim you. Tomorrow's your last chance to shift, and when you fail to shift again, you'll be fair game. Might as well get used to it, Little Miss Wolfless."

His words sent ice through my veins. I stumbled back to the kitchen, my tears blinding me.

Patricia must have seen the despair on my face, because she waved me off with a gruff, "Go home and pull yourself together."

The moonlight illuminated my small, decrepit hut as I trudged home. It was a pitiful place on the edge of the pack's territory, far from the warm glow of the packhouses. The roof leaked, the windows were cracked, and the door barely stayed closed with its flimsy lock. Five years ago, the Alpha had taken my family's house, leaving me with this shack.

I collapsed on the rickety bed, burying my face in my hands as sobs racked my body. "Please, Moon Goddess," I whispered through my sobs. "I have had two failed tries already. Please let me shift tomorrow. Don't let me become their toy, please."

The next night, the pack gathered under the full moon for the yearly shifting ceremony. The air was electric with anticipation as the young wolves—mostly thirteen-year-olds, a few sixteen-year-olds, and me—stood in a circle. I was the oldest. This was my last chance, a humiliating reminder of how much I didn't belong.

One by one, the young wolves began to shift, their bodies contorting into sleek forms under the moon's light. Cheers and howls filled the air as proud parents celebrated their children's transformations.

And then there was me, still standing still in human form.

When the last wolf shifted and I was still standing there, trembling and alone, laughter broke out around me.

"She's being punished," someone whispered, "for her parents' sins."

"She's a disgrace," another added.

The Alpha's booming voice silenced the crowd. "Dismissed!" he barked, then turned his cold, black eyes to me. "Tyla, my office. Now."

My heart pounded as I followed him to his house, through the grand living room, and up the staircase to his office. The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with my fear.

As the door clicked shut behind us, dread coiled in my stomach.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice low and unsettling as he stepped toward me. "Those blue eyes of yours are like diamonds."

I backed away until my back hit the door. "Alpha Lucas, please..."

"Now that you're officially wolfless, every male in the pack will want to claim you. But I can protect you—if you agree to be mine."

"No!" I cried, shaking my head. "You're as old as my father! Please let me go!"

His expression darkened. "If you won't come willingly, I'll take what's mine."

Before I could comprehend his words, he lunged, tearing my...dress from the neckline. I screamed as his teeth sank into my neck, marking me against my will.

No stop. I begged my voice raw with terror. Just as he moved to continue his assault, a knock at the door froze him in place.