Chapter 264
Asher POV
The blows just keep on coming. I curl myself into a little ball, my head tucked low, the pain ricocheting through my body.
It hurts. You think I would be used to it by now, but every time I face a beating, they hurt me just a little more, as though trying to test my boundaries.
“Runt,” I hear the common slur as a kick is aimed at my stomach, “pathetic. Whore.”
I wait for them to finish. I wait for the pain to end. Eventually, they grow tired and wander off, leaving me alone, on the ground, my body aching and barely able to move.
I force myself to get up and move anyway.
I don’t bother going to the infirmary. There’s no point. Alpha Jacob has already forbidden the doctors to help me.
He hates me. The day he found out we were mates, he’d promptly rejected me right in front of the entire pack. I’d never felt so humiliated.
My wolf was small. A runt. Barely bigger than a wolf pup. Because of this, I was despised and deemed unworthy to even belong in the nightshade pack. They prided themselves on being strong, and I was a disappointment and burden to all.
I was an orphan. My parents had died during a rogue attack, leaving me alone and unwanted. I had spent 15 long years at the orphanage, fighting for scraps of food, surviving through cold winters with threadbare blankets and minimal clothing, only to be cast aside and forced to work in the packhouse for free.
Our clothes consisted of basic uniforms. They were the only clothes I owned. Without money, I couldn’t afford to buy new clothes or even a coat to last the winter.
I’d never felt so helpless or so worthless.
I’d always wanted a mate. Somebody to treasure me and treat me like their partner. But my hopes had been dashed because of Alpha Jacob. Nobody would go near me now unless it was to abuse me.
Becoming a chosen mate was simply a dream, one that would never be fulfilled.
This pack was full of monsters. Of people who looked down on those they considered to be inferior. Packs had a hierarchy, but generally they treated everybody with the same respect and courtesy.
Not in this pack.
In this pack, omegas were the lowest of the low and easily replaced. Some of them were even put to use as breeders and would only agree in order to survive.
I would rather die than become a breeder.
Luckily, my wolf made the men in the pack regard me as garbage, and nobody wanted me in that way.
At first I’d felt insulted, but now all I feel is gratitude.
I unfurl and stand up, swaying slightly, my hand on my ribs, which I’m sure are cracked and broken. Bruises litter my body, and it hurts to walk, but I force myself foward one step at a time.
Even injured, I would still be expected to carry out my duties.
1/3
I shuffled, hand on the hallway wall, moving ever so slowly towards my room where I knew I could access a first aid kit.
My room was in the basement, inside a cell, with a mattress on the floor, and bathroom amenities in the far corner with only cold water.
I didn’t deserve to reside with the rest of those in the pack house.
I can feel my ribs poking out of my side. My diet consists of nothing more than bread and water, with the occasional leftovers if somebody is magnanimous. That was hardly ever, unless they needed me to work hard and didn’t want me to faint.
I don’t know how I’ve managed to survive this long.
I’m not even sure I want to anymore.
If I could have, I would have escaped long ago, but every time I tried, Alpha Jacob had me dragged back and thoroughly punished in front of the pack as an example of what happened to those who tried to betray him.
The whipping was hard to bear but the ultimate degradation was when he locked the collar around my neck and chained me to a post naked outside, like I was nothing more than an animal.
Now I don’t dare try to plan a way out. Another punishment will likely kill me.
I considered my other options. Considered harming myself and ending it all. But as if he could read my mind, I would find myself under constant surveillance and everything sharp was suddenly well out of reach.
Not because he cared. No, Alpha Jacob didn’t work that way, but because he refused to let a good servant go to
waste.
My hands open the cracked and broken first aid kit sitting neatly beside my mattress. I take out the ointment and begin to rub it over my body in small sweeping circles. It won’t take away the pain, but it will diminish it slightly and encourage me to heal.
My wolf would heal me, but she’s not strong enough.
It’s not her fault.
I still love her. I still adore her. But we’ve not been given permission to run since I got her, and every day I feel her slip away from me a little more as the abuse and the suffering continue.
One day, I’m afraid I’ll wake up and she will be gone completely.
If that happened, I would be truly alone.
I sat on the mattress, curling my knees up and putting my head down.
I remembered my parents loving me as a child. I remembered being pampered like a princess. I wore pretty dresses, my red hair was always pinned back, and I could still dimly feel how it felt to have my mother and father’s arms wrap around me. Then one day, it was gone. My whole world turned upside down and I was suddenly left to fend for myself in a ruthless pack.
What I wouldn’t give to see my parents one last time and hear their voices.
Or even to find somebody to sweep me off my feet and take me away from this horrendous pack.
But I wasn’t naive enough to believe Prince Charming was waiting for me somewhere out there.
2/3
Fairy tales didn’t come true, no matter how hard you wished it.
Instead, I would remain here, a servant for life, enduring abuse by the hands of pack members who showed no compassion for those below them.
For the first time, as I looked around at the dungeon and saw the miserable state of my living quarters, pain coursing through my body, I wished that it hadn’t just been my parents that died in the rogue attack, but me as well.
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Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby’s writing style is bold and irresistible—perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.

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