Worshipped By The Alphas

I am Marina.

I believe I am a member of the crystal blue pack. I am not sure if I can claim to be a part of a pack that tortures its members for their sick amusement. 

Anyone who felt the need to hit something or in my case someone would use me as a walking punching bag. Living among these people, who you had assumed would be there to protect you and spare you any further misery, was a living hell.

 I wasn't a loner by choice, but I was one anyway. 

Since I was the weakling, it was simple for anyone to take advantage of me. I was the least strong member of my pack. I wasn't always frail, but as the beating got worse over time, I stopped hearing my wolf. I guess she was too weak to even connect with me. 

She may have been too weak after all the beatings I took over the years, or she may have been angry that I never stood up for myself. But things weren't always this way.

There was a period in my life when I was a little bit content. My parents abandoned me in a basket on the outside of the pack area, it was revealed to me when I was old enough to comprehend it. Border patrol discovered me and returned me to the pack home.

Natasha adopted me shortly after that and reared me as her own. She only had one son, and after giving birth, a healer from a distant pack informed her that she couldn't have any more kids. That, I believe, was one of her motivations for taking me in.

Living with Rawland (the alpha), Natasha, and their baby, Benjamin made me happy. I was given their last name and my name by Natasha. They were peaceful, kind, and loving.

They consistently prioritized their personnel and saw to it that everyone was treated fairly. But neither that nor my delight did for very long. When I was six years old, Natasha passed away, and with her, my joy.

Following Natasha's demise,  Everyone said I was to blame for her demise. She lost her life defending me from a rogue when one of them attacked our pack. When the attack started, she had advised me to remain hidden in a passageway, but I didn't heed her advice. 

It happened when I came out of concealment to find her since I was too afraid to remain in the tunnel by myself.

She briefly seemed preoccupied as she begged me to return inside. One of the rogues lunged at her and bit into her neck in a split second.

 Everyone held me responsible for Natasha's death when she passed away. She died, defending me from a criminal at the time. 

All I could do was stared helplessly as her once-vibrant eyes began to lose their life. I raced over to her lifeless body lying on the ground and yelled at the top of my lungs. She hit the ground with a thump, blood dripping from her neck, and the rogues fled.

I sobbed while getting blood all over me as I clutched her corpse. My life began to spiral out of control when the alpha learned what had transpired from a warrior present in the room.

I could still see the hatred in his eyes even at the age of seventeen as if it had just happened. Because he would frequently bring up how I had stolen his partner from him, I knew he held me responsible for what had transpired.

He started acting cold and distant after that. He would scold and reprimand me for simple things, like forgetting to clean the house, after she passed away. 

Yes!

 The entire pack house, which was resided by at least 50 members, needed to be cleaned. 

Although I never complained, I always felt that I deserved everything that was happening to me right now.

If I had just paid attention, Natasha, the lady I recognized to be my mother might still be among us today.

 I'll spend the rest of my life taking the brunt of their punishment until they forgive me because it was my fault.