Real Alphas Bite (The Alpha-Hole Duet 1)
Page 3
Syn
His laughter sliced through my skin.
Or at least that’s what it felt like as Brayden’s laugh echoed through the room. I didn’t have to lift my head to make sure it was him. Everything about him was embedded in my skin, an unfortunate byproduct of the fact that Brayden Whitlock happened to be my fated mate.
My fated mate who had unequivocally destroyed my existence by rejecting me.
The reasonable part of my brain recognized his weaknesses. He was spoiled and proud. He lacked a conscience or at least the part of a person that actually cared about anything but himself.
But when the Moon Goddess chooses your fated mate, she also gives you this terrible wanting inside of you, this desire for the other half of your soul.
Even if the other half of your soul would be disgusting in any other circumstance.
Pain flickered in my gut as a female’s voice intertangled with his. Just like I didn’t have to look up to know his laugh, I also didn’t have to look up to know that one of the beta-pack females was currently wrapped around him, trying to worm her way into his bed.
I couldn’t think about that without nausea building.
How was it possible that I could still feel like this after everything, and he could go about his life like I had never existed.
Why did Brayden pretending like I never existed mean going out of his way to torture me?
Even knowing that I shouldn’t, I glanced up, meeting Brayden’s gaze, which immediately turned triumphant when he saw I was looking. He grabbed Desmonda’s hair tightly and pulled, eliciting a squeal from her that I know made him hard. I’d learned the hard way that Brayden got off on pain.
The girls he hurt didn’t seem to care though. The power that he held as the Alpha’s son and future pack leader had them coming back for more again and again. Broken flowers that thought his power was like the sun and they had to gravitate towards him in order to grow.
“Get a new keg from the back,” Devon, the other bartender on duty, barked at me. In a regular world, we would have been equals. He could have gotten his own fucking keg. But in the Madfur Pack, where I was considered the lowest of the low and basically a whipping girl to everyone above me, Devon could talk and order me to do whatever he wanted.
And he did.
I was Cinderella. But instead of three people trying to ruin my life, I had a whole pack. And no fairy godmother.
I headed to the back, already grimacing about my task. I was strong enough thanks to my wolf; that wasn’t the problem. But the scarring all down my back and my butt, the pink, raised skin that never healed, made a lot of tasks difficult and painful.
Not that anyone around me cared.
“Grab the empty one,” Devon snapped at my back.
My wolf growled inside of me, not happy, as usual, about being bossed around by someone she considered inferior, but she couldn’t do anything about it. I glanced down at the thin bronze band that encircled my wrist, ensuring that my wolf couldn’t show herself.
I’d been allowed to shift once, only so I didn’t “go mad” like wolves in the old pack legends. And after that brief, glorious moment of meeting her, the most beautiful creature I’d ever come across, the bracelet had been snapped on and had remained there ever since.
It was ironic that the person with the power to free me was the person most likely not to.
I didn’t bother answering Devon; he knew I wouldn’t fail to obey. When you had scars on your skin like I did, whips and belts had quite the effect.
I took a deep breath and lifted the empty keg up, gritting my teeth as the exertion pulled on my fragile skin. Tears gathered in my eyes, and I choked out a cry.
I would have run, but I was trapped here, eyes on me every second to make sure the pack slave couldn’t escape. Even now, a beta with glittering eyes leaned against the wall in the hallway, watching me struggle with a sadistic glint in his eyes.
My wolf clattered about inside of me, yapping at me to pick the damn thing up and not show any more weakness…or drop the keg on the beta.
I waddled down the hallway, because there was no graceful way to carry something that heavy, and made it into the back storage room where we kept the kegs and the rest of the alcohol. I’d just set the keg down when I heard familiar voices approaching from the direction of the Howler Bar offices.
“Did you see the notice? They’re calling for all the rejected mates to be delivered to Reject Island for processing,” Leon, the Alpha’s top beta, whispered.
“Over my dead body,” the Alpha growled. I froze, realizing that they were talking about me. There weren’t many of us. After all, who was terrible enough to be rejected when the mate bond was gifted by the Moon Goddess herself?
It was an exclusive club.
My wolf growled in frustration at my self-pitying monologue, and I took a deep breath, shaking off the familiar feeling of pain beginning to seep into my bloodstream.
For a second, I wondered what it would be like to get away from here. Everyone there would be just like me, a cast-off that the world didn’t want. I could have a new life. Have friends…maybe even love. I almost laughed at that last thought.
Except there had to be a reason for sending rejects there, right? They were afraid of what we would become without the mate bond. The alleged special little curse only affected the ones who were rejected, not the ones who did the rejecting. Wasn’t that a nice little side effect?
“They’re sending officials to all the packs to ensure the decree is followed,” Leon warned.
The Alpha snorted. “Like our pathetic little bird would squeal if they came. She knows better than to bite the hand that feeds her.”
My wolf bristled at being called “pathetic” and “a bird”, but I’d been called that so many times it was almost the same as calling me a redhead.
“Wouldn’t it be easier just to be done with her?” Leon asked, tentatively. I stood up straighter, straining my ears not to miss a single word. I’d never understood why I was still kept here. You would have thought they’d want me as far from their perfect Brayden as possible. Even though the pack glorified him, I was the blight on his reputation they couldn’t forget. They couldn’t help but wonder if there was something wrong with Brayden that he had been cursed…with me.
“We’ve had this conversation before, and I’m not keen on repeating myself,” Alpha growled, and a small whine escaped from Leon in the face of the Alpha’s dominance.
I sighed, realizing I wasn’t going to get any answers. And I wasn’t going to waste a second worrying about Reject Island. The Alpha would find a way to make sure I never made it there, that was clear.
“I’ll have the sentries keep an eye out for the officials so we will have warning,” Leon answered subserviently, wisely realizing that the Alpha wasn’t going to change his mind.
The Alpha snorted, like being worried about the government coming into town was the least of his worries. I listened as their footsteps faded away before going back to my task, pushing any thoughts of Reject Island out of my head.
I’d just bent over to pick up the new keg when I felt him.