Too Broken To Be Loved

Prologue

Six years earlier

I lived recklessly, indifferent to danger. I was ruthless and hostile, disliked by many. Some attributed my actions of rebellion or attention-seeking, but it was deeper than that. I was broken, seeking solace in alcohol and drugs to escape the torment and abuse of my past. People advised me to forgive and forget, but it's not easy to overcome the physical and mental pain I've endured. My lifestyle choices threaten my future, yet I still need to seek the help others suggest. Despite my pack's attempts to aid me, they eventually gave up, stating I had to want help myself. My friends abandoned me, leaving me in despair, unable to understand my suffering. When I ran, I thought I’d finally be free but oh boy was I wrong. The constant hiding and seeking shelter was much harder than I thought. Constantly running, trying to hide from my past as my father and stepmother sent teams to search for me. I knew why my father was searching, he just wanted me safe, but my stepmother had other plans she didn’t want me safe she wanted me dead. Although my father didn’t know this, I did along with many others, yet not one of them could speak up, fear of being punished or much worse slaughtered by the hands of my stepmother while my father was away on business trips. No one would be able to stop her but my father, but will he believe anyone. My stepmother has always been good at manipulating my father into believing everything she said every time I would get into trouble, she blamed it on the fact that I was raised by an omega and couldn’t handle the lose of my mother, but in all truth of the reality it was the abuse I had been suffering for years at the hands of that wretched woman. The women who claimed she loved me like one of her own, but everyone but my father knew she loathed me and couldn’t wait for the day I was dead. In her eyes I was nothing but trouble, a deception of my fathers affair and a worthless omega who didn’t deserve to be in the present of her and my twin brothers. Some days I’d hope she would have just killed me hoped for the day all of the pain and suffering would end, but no she had other plans she wanted me to suffer like she had suffered when she found out about the affair. Feel the pain she felt when my father mated with his fainted mate conceiving me. Go through the torture like she did when she was trying to save her chosen mate bond and their marriage. Sometimes I wish my mother were still alive and that my father had chosen her. I would have grown up differently I would have had a family, a mother and father who love me. Then the most important thing of all I would have never walked down the path of alcohol and drugs I would be free.