The Alpha's Desperate Daughter

Chapter Three

I awoke startled, disoriented—my head bumping onto the carpeted floor as I fell out of bed—covered in cold sweats, my body uncontrollably shaking as my heart pounded against my chest looking around my room in horror trying to find any signs of fire or smoke and found none. I heave out a shaky breath as I hugged my knees rocking my body back and forth trying to comfort myself as the sun rays shine through my windows with my curtains drawn washing my nightmares away.

“Just a dream. Just a dream,” I mumbled repeatedly, trying to calm the tremors in my body as I wipe the sleep off my eyes, untangling myself off my blanket—stumbling my way to the bathroom wanting to erase the vivid image of the rogues attacking my pack, burning the pack house to the ground.

Three days had passed since the incident with Levi and the council meeting which also means it’s been three days since my battle with Max, resulting in my total defeat and his absolute win.

Max won unanimously among all other alpha candidates, who are much younger and inexperience than him making him the best possible one among them to be trained while adapting well to the pressure and responsibilities of being an alpha while the council deemed me inappropriate to be a candidate due to the reason that they are not sure if I’m really a ‘were’. Me being an adopted daughter of the Alpha, bearing no distinct scent and on top of that, I cannot turn into a wolf or even communicate with it or with them through a mind link despite being eighteen years old already. Aside from my heightened senses and strength and somewhat elongated canines, that is all that separates me from the human species.

I look at myself in the full-length mirror after taking a bath and getting dressed still feeling helpless with my curly, jet-black hair in a messy bun, my hazel eyes are jaded, and my face ashen. So, this is what defeat looks like, I thought sighing, not liking how haggard I am. I decided to wear my thickest, oversized, black jacket atop my black tank top to make myself somehow look presentable—still oddly feeling cold these past few days despite living in a tropical country—and paired it with my black jeans. Yep, all-black. My happy color.

Nodding my approval at my reflection, I decided to head downstairs and made a beeline to the kitchen inhaling the air in gulps as aromatic, sweet-smelling fragrant filled my nostrils making my stomach grumble.

I met a few pack members along the way and exchanged some hellos and good mornings with them. Each of them brought a plate of waffles with fruits they like, piquing my curiosity, wondering who had cooked for us since the head cook was on her leave. I was then greeted with a familiar gentle voice as I reached the kitchen's threshold—his smile making my heart leap with joy as he cooked the waffles to perfection, the large kitchen bustling with omegas here and there assisting him.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" I asked, kissing both of his cheeks as I reached him, "By the way, I love what you're wearing today, very chic," I commented, laughing at the pink apron he's wearing with embroidered flowers in it atop his usual business suit—a matching dark blue jacket and trousers with his white collared polo and black tie—earning a chuckle from him.

"Well, your mom always loved it when I wear pink," he momentarily froze, his pale gray eyes suddenly glazed with grief at the thought of mom.

"Yeah, I agree with mom. You always look lovely in pink," I remarked my voice wobbly as I blink back tears. "Mom did mention it brings out the manliness in you," I jest as I hugged him tightly.

He hugged me back just as tightly, "I'm sorry for all the suffering you had endured until now, my little Aria. I'll make it up to you. I'll be a better and stronger dad. I swear to the Goddess' name, Selene, and to Celine," he muttered, choking on mom's name as I sobbed against his chest and smiled despite the tears hearing his nickname he made for me when I was little which means lioness for I was his feisty little warrior.

"You already are... the best father I could have ever asked for," I muttered my voice breaking as he wiped my tears away.

"Alright, who wants some waffles with Nutella in them?" he announced in the room getting rid of the gloominess and making me and the omegas chuckle.

☆●✧●☆

"Hey, Em. Good morning," Scarlett stated in her singsong voice all giddy in her cobalt-colored tracksuit probably excited since it's our combat training, and stop mid-stride, her lips pursed as her face gets redder by the second while I did my warm-ups, "What's with your puffy eyes? Did Max do something again?" she stated alarmed, her protectiveness kicking in.

I've been bullied since I was a child by Max and his minions, and let's just say, Scarlett's always there to defend me but mostly, to keep me out of trouble. I do have the tendency to strike first and finish a fight Max had always started. I shook my head defending Max for once and began to tell her about my morning with dad, how he was up and about like his usual self before mom died.

"Wow, his meds must have kicked in," she breathes in, relieved. Her eyes are glassy with tears. "I would love to see that. I'm happy for you, babe," she pulled me into a bear hug as we both squealed in joy.

"Stop being so gay early in the morning," a honeyed voice scoffed breaking our moment of joy, his blonde-dyed hair—a stark contrast to his black hair roots, his original hair color—gleaming under the sun, his gray sleeveless tank top embedded with sweat probably from his warm-ups.

"And stop being such a d**k, Alpha," Scarlett retaliated, spitting out the word Alpha.

Max smirked regarding her distastefully, "Good to know you haven't changed a bit, my Beta.”

I went in between them seeing Scarlett about to launch herself at him. Apparently, she'll be working as his beta while her father trains them both in working together and around the pack and supervising how they execute their responsibilities in the pack which Scarlett grumbly accepted as being the only adequate beta candidate. She did share that this was the main reason she has been stressed out lately.

"Gather around, pups," our delta, a short and bulky muscled man, Mr. Zeemann—who's responsible for training and taking control over spars—announced, his voice booming in the open space of our training ground as we form a straight horizontal line in front of him. "I trusted you already did your warm-ups. So, we'll proceed directly with combat training. This time will do sparring. Opponents are based on your abilities and improvements you had made and not by your ranks to ensure fairness in battle," he announced, not missing a heartbeat as he dived into the rules of the spar. He has always been a straightforward man which amazes me to some level.

I looked around me seeing determined faces buzzing with excitement—our ages, and ranks varied from sixteen to twenty, from alpha, beta, delta, gamma, and omega, respectively.

"The rules are simple, have your opponents concede defeat or you can knock them out within the time limit of thirty minutes. It’ll be a draw if both of you can still stand after the said time limit. Community service will be given to those who will end in a draw. So, if you don’t want to do extra work I suggest you give your all to winning. You can shift or fight it out with your human form, your choice. I'll announce the pairings according to the sequence of sparring. First up, Alpha Gavin Reyes and Beta Lilia Cruz, next pair Omega Liam de Marco and Delta Kevin Zeemann, next Beta Scarlett Suyo and Beta Apollo Suyo, next Gamma Edward Garcia and Omega Macey Ramos, and last pair, Alpha Max Whittler and Omega Maria Cove."

Our gazes met as Mr. Zeemann mentions our names. I grinned at him giving him a full view of my sharp canines, him smirking back not backing down. Now, this just got exciting!