Desired by Two Alphas (Wolves of Westfall #1)

The young man's gaze fell on the girl in the corner, straight and undisguised. Beta’s eyes meet a Slave’s eyes. “Sasha…” “Beta Ansel,” she greeted while lowering her head. “No need to be so formal…” Ansel laughed but Sasha’s head remained bowed down. “…Sasha.” “You are the Beta, Ansel,” she eyed him slowly. “And I am but a Slave.” Ansel sucked a breath. But Sasha, whose birthday will be a few hours from now, didn’t even sigh. “I see,” he looked at her mud-filled hands. “I presume Alpha Cal would never let you be a normal Omega then, at least with that you’re higher than your status as a Slave.” Sasha just gave him a tight nod, scoffing. “A Slave will always be a Slave.” When she was about to turn away, Ansel grabbed her arm even before she could blink. “I also know how it feels to lose a father, Sasha.” “You already gave your condolences to me last night, Ansel.” Sasha paused, lifting her head slightly but still didn’t meet his gaze. “What more do you want?” “My father, Alpha Ariel, was slain last year by Cal, the former Alpha Jonas’ cousin. It was actually worse for me than yours.” “So what’s your point, Ansel?” Sasha c****d an eyebrow, throat bobbing, voice shaking. “That my father just died of natural causes while yours was murdered and that’s why your father should be mourned for a year whereas mine doesn’t even last a week?!” “What I’m saying is—” Ansel saw the shadow of Alpha Cal in the distance, forcing him to grab Sasha and hide her inside the barn. “Whatever happens, I will always be right here for you.” Ansel brushed a kiss on her hair. But Sasha Forster, a young she-wolf whose blood vibrantly reeks of a Slave, pushed him away almost immediately. “We are not mates. I don’t think we even will even if I will have my wolf. I am a Slave, lower than an Omega. And you are a Beta, a right hand of the Alpha. It’s like a marriage between a domestic cat and a mountain lion.” “So what?” Ansel held both of her shoulders, shaking it. “If I murder Alpha Cal tonight, will you be my Luna?” Sasha glared at his wolfish grin, unable to stomach his constant possessiveness towards her. “Whatever happens, no matter if you turn the world upside down, I will still be a Slave…and I have long accepted it.” Ansel snorted. “And what if I tell you that you are the long-lost daughter of an Alpha, will you stop looking down at yourself and pitying your ass?” Sasha, in a fit of rage, braced herself. Tears streaming from her dirt-kissed face. “If and only if. But all you do is makeup theories, Ansel. You don’t have evidence because you don’t give a f**k about me. I am the one who suffered most, not you. It is not you who wakes up before the crack of dawn and prepares everyone’s food. It is not you who washes the Betas’ clothes and the Alpha’s apparel despite one’s little hands. It is not you who sleeps on the stone-cold floor during winter nights or in the pig pens during storms to make sure the animals won’t escape.” Sasha leaned closer, her breathing heavy and cold. “It is not you who lost both of her parents in a year, sleeps after midnight, and is whipped by Alpha Cal anytime he wants. Because, Beta Ansel, you are not me. And I am not YOU!” The barn’s doors burst open, revealing a muscular man in a tattered black vest. Beneath that is nothing but his gleaming, sweaty naked chest. He stands with utter pride and dominance, even his shadow did not waver as he walks slowly toward Sasha and Ansel. Ansel obviously knows that Alpha Cal made him his right-hand man as a form of torture and mockery the moment the news of Alpha Ariel’s murder scattered. “And what is a Slave shrieking about in front of my right-hand Beta?” Alpha Cal, leader of the Fire Moon Pack, gazed down at both of them—gazed down at them, especially to Sasha. Sasha immediately kneeled to the ground, head and lips almost kissing the hay-filled earth. “I apologize, Alpha. It is about nothing but personal matters to take care of between Beta Ansel and me.” “Personal matters?” The Alpha clicked his tongue. “Did you hear it, boys?” Alpha Cal turned to the other Betas around him. All have huge bodies that a mere seventeen-year-old like Sasha couldn’t even lift a finger. Sasha hoisted her head for a bit and found the door to the barn filled with the peering eyes of other Omegas and Slaves. “Are you planning to be a w***e and seduce Beta Ansel here, Sasha Forster?” Sasha returns her head to the ground. “No, Alpha! We are just discussing—” But even with the young girl’s cry, the Alpha’s hand landed at the base of Sasha’s neck, forcing her face lower to the ground. “Once a Slave, always a Slave.” Ansel managed to halt Cal’s hand in mid-air when he tried to hit her again. Sasha looked up and saw the Beta and the Alpha staring at each other, waiting to see who would lower their gaze and who would remain dominant. Alpha Cal’s hand remained suspended mid-air while Ansel’s found its way to his side. “I’m sorry, Alpha. It is my fault for Sasha yelling at me. I was just giving my condolences to her father and I may have offended her emotions while doing so.” Cal seemed convinced as he lowered his hand, and so did Ansel’s when he attempted to lift it again. Sasha, still kneeling, bowed her head in thanks to the Beta. Cal looked at his Ansel, then to Sasha, then to his Betas. “Give this Slave fifteen lashes for abandoning her post for fifteen minutes!” The Alpha turned to Sasha. “Every minute you waste is equivalent to one whipping, girl.” Cal clenched her jaw, caressing it with a lover’s stroke. “And I hope you enjoy it because I will.” Sasha didn’t so much as flinch when Cal handed the whip to Ansel. “Begin,” the Alpha commanded. Ansel did not so much as blink when he began to whip the back of his bestfriend and Slave to the Alpha of the Fire Moon Pack, Sasha Forster. *** Midnight came, and Sasha’s body had never ached like this before. Well, it always aches anyway so what is the point of comparing it to the other nights she experienced whipping? “I’m sorry.” A voice from the shadows muttered, walking towards her as slow as a turtle’s movement. The waning moon’s light cast its way to the face of the voice’s owner. “That’s what you always say,” she spitted. “Because you are in a higher position compared to mine.” “WILL YOU STOP COMPARING AT OUR PACK’S STATUS FOR A GODDAMN MINUTE!” It’s a good thing that the horse barn is locked, or else they’ll wake up a few Slaves watching over and sleeping with the flock of sheep under the starry heavens a few distances from the barn. Sasha is in charge of taking care and watching over the horses. Though even they don’t know why it’s necessary, some say it’s just the Alpha’s way of torturing them more and letting them feel that they are lower than an Omega—that they are Slaves, who deserve to sleep with animals for they are nothing but possessions of the pack and the Alpha. Nothing more but a handful of dust in the corner, easily forgotten and often remembered. “You don’t need to feel sorry for what you are.” Ansel sat across from her. Across her makeshift bed of hays and the stack of clothes as her pillow, no blanket. “Here, take my scarf. This will be your blanket.” Gripping the piece of fabric in Sasha’s hand, she never felt so lonely and abandoned as now—now that she realized that there is only one man who cares for her: Ansel Vaughn. Sasha looked at him; the smile on her lips froze. She gave Ansel a not-so-wide grin when he was about to bellow again. “There, you’re smiling,” said Ansel. A random act of smile also tugged on the previous Alpha’s son. Ansel. The man who has been her friend since childhood. The one who gave her a cup of water when Alpha Cal hung her upside down for staining her shirt with pig’s s**t. The werewolf who has been her family ever since before her parents died. Crawling beside her, Sasha couldn’t hide the smile that slowly bloomed across her lips. “Happy Birthday, Sasha.” Beta Ansel whispered while keeping the sweetest smile on his face shining despite the barn’s darkness.