The Wolves' Revenge

Sasha

My heart thumped, legs trembling as I approached the alpha’s office. Despite the pain in my hip, I force myself. Fighting back the tears that threaten to fall

He sounds so furious already. But then the alpha is always angry. I wonder what I have done wrong today to get this call.

He never calls me to his office unless it’s to punish me or remind me how useless I am. How he wishes I had never existed.

I limp to the door, taking a deep breath. I knock once, then wait for him. “Yes!” he answers from the other side. I can already hear the disgust and anger in his voice.

I say a brief prayer and push the door open, sighing heavily and straightening my shoulders. I walk into the office. I refuse to cower in fear,  feeling his eyes trail me with disgust.

I stride towards him, fighting the pain in my hip, worsened by his beating this morning. Because his precious daughter forgot to tell me she needed a dress for her little brunch.

“Father, you called for me?” I ask. My voice was monotone.

Keenan Thorne.

My father.

 The alpha hates me because of something I have no control over. I don’t know why I still call him father. This man behind that desk is not my father.

He sits back, disgust evident on his face, a look I've seen since he realized I wasn't born a boy.

I don’t know what I have done to warrant the anger in his voice right now, but he looks as if I weren’t his daughter, he would rip me to shreds.

 But with my father, you never know. He could be angry right now because I am still breathing. I mean, he has given me a beating all because I wore the same color as his necktie.

“Why?” He asks, rubbing his chin. I don’t understand why he is asking me. He could be asking why I was born a girl instead of a boy. He calls me a disgrace because I am his firstborn and I am a girl.

Just last week, he was upset because his legacy would never be passed on to me because I am a girl, and I ended up in the clinic for two days being mended.

He breaks me only to bring me back. Letting me die would save us both from this torture.

“Are you a virgin?” he asks me. I lift my gaze, looking at him. I know why he is asking me this.

 The time has come.

 I am sure he has found a perfect puppet he will control as his son-in-law.

I have dreaded this moment for years, but I knew it would eventually come—that one day, he would do this.

“I asked you a fucking question!” He slams his hand on his oakwood desk, startling me. I nodded my head.

“Yes, Father. I am.” I nod, my voice almost like a whisper. My hands tremble, but I hold them tight. I can’t let him see how scared I am.

His nostrils flare in disgust as he gets up from the chair, striding towards me.

“At least you are good for something,” he says, his voice cold.

I lift my head to look at the man. He seriously thinks it’s a good thing. What is he planning? I want to ask him to find out who my groom is, but I know better.

I have received beatings just for asking if he wanted cream in his coffee. I wouldn’t dare ask him who it was.

“Länna!” He shouts, and I look back when I see my mother’s omega walk into the room. I lower my gaze, waiting for my father to dismiss her.

“Get her ready,” he instructs me as I lift my gaze, looking at him. I tilt my head, trying to understand what’s happening.

“He will be here any minute, and I want to make sure she looks presentable. Get Rhett as well to fix her,” He barks instructions. I was right.

 He is about to get me married to his puppet. I wonder which one it is.

“Come with me,” Länna turns on her heel, about to walk away. I know I need to follow her, but I am curious to know who he is marrying me off to.

I know most of the people in this pack know what he does to me. They have always joined in because he lets them, so there’s no way he is from our pack. He must be someone who doesn’t know what he does.

“Sasha?” he calls before I can finally leave.

“Don’t try any funny business. Tonight is important,” He warns, his gaze on me, eyes narrowing as I nod my head.

I follow Länna upstairs, a place I've only been to clean. Today, I'm here to get ready for someone important.

I wonder what it is he is hoping to achieve.

I let Länna work on me, and Rhett comes by later. Trying to ‘fix me’, like my father always says.

“You should have come to me, Sasha. These will leave scars,” He had said when he saw the recent cuts on my back. The pain in my hip is better now, and even though my back stings a bit, it’s better than before.

Länna finished my makeup and helped me into a simple long-sleeved floor-length dress, my chestnut hair fell to my back, and she did makeup that makes my hazel grey eyes pop out.

I sigh heavily, grabbing a wipe from the table, bringing it to my face. My hand hovers over my face. I want to wash this fake makeup off my face, but my hands tremble. I can’t do it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Länna’s voice comes from behind; her hands crossed over her chest. Tears threaten to fall from my eyes when she strides into the room.

“Listen. I know this looks like a bad idea, but at least you get some freedom, and you can be free from your father,” she says, trying to make me feel better, but nothing is soothing about what she has just said.

There’s no freedom. If this man were chosen by my father, it would only mean one thing to me. More pain.

“Do you know who he is?” I finally asked, placing the makeup wipe on the dresser. She offers me a comforting smile, placing her hands on my shoulders.

“We should go. Your father is waiting.”

He waits.

 I want to say let him go fuck himself, but I am too weak and useless to go against a man like my father. I would be dead, so like the little useless pawn he has turned me into. I turn on my heel and make my way out of the room.

My legs carry me to the drawing room where I am meeting my groom. Länna knocks on the door, and I walk in, my head held high and shoulders straightened. I  won’t show my new husband that I am some weak and wolfless omega.

Right now, I am the alpha’s daughter, even though I am not considered as such by so many people.

I step into the drawing room. A man stands by the window in a leather coat that absorbed the darkness around him, and his broad shoulders hinted at a strength that could easily overpower anyone who crossed his path.

His presence alone sent shivers down my spine. I thought my father was scary. This man is on another level. He towers over my father like a mountain, and make no mistake, my father is tall.

“Oh, she is here,” my father says, and the man turns to me.

He has beautiful hazel-green eyes, a straight nose that is a bit crooked, with a strong jawline, and a scar that goes from the side of his face across his left eye to his neck. I can’t help but wonder how he got that scar. It must have hurt.

My eyes locked with his, feeling a strange sensation for this man. The man frowned and said, “Let's begin.”