Being roused from sleep at an ungodly hour is perhaps the worst feeling in the world.
Worse than hunger, worse than pain, worse than even the cold sting of loneliness. Sleep, at least, offers the illusion of peace. A place where I’m not an omega. Not mistreated. Not invisible.
But that fragile peace shattered with in few minutes.
“Get up and start doing your chores!” a voice shouted into my ear.
A rough hand clamped around my wrist and yanked me out of the thin sheets I barely had to cover me. My body hit the cold stone floor with a thud, knocking the air from my lungs. I scrambled up on instinct, biting back a wince. I didn’t need to see the face. I knew the voice, Madam Hellen. Cruel. Loyal only to power. And a lapdog to our Alpha, a well known coldhearted bastard.
I didn't even pro
