The Alphas Forgotten Daughter

Chapter One - Surprise I looked forlornly at the spooky themed poster tacked to the pack house cork board. "Blood Moon Ball! This Halloween ONLY! Hosted by Alpha Sylas and the Silver Moon pack. Come and drink, eat, and dance the night away before the Moonrise and The Running. All pack members must attend." "Of course," I thought to myself. The one night of the year I get to myself with no cooking, cleaning, or seeing to the unmated pack members would be a blood moon; the biggest wolf celebration of the last two decades. Just because we live much longer lives doesn't mean that 20 years doesn't still feel like an age. Being born on Halloween usually has its perks. Its no where near a full moon, so I was usually given my birthday as a night off from pack duties. No such luck this year. A full blood moon meant the pack house and its entire estate would be host to EVERY wolf and their mate in the UK. It's a good thing our pack founder was some kind of Scottish prince and built us this castle in the highlands, or the blood moon ball would be utter chaos. You would think that as the eldest and only daughter of an Alpha, I'd be excited to dance and drink in the latest designer clothes with a fresh manicure and blow out. That is not the hand life dealt me, unfortunately. I was born 21 years ago on a blood moon, just like next week. When my mother went into labour, the whole pack was excited. Wolf pups born on a blood moon are said to be blessed by the goddess herself with the strongest wolves and able to shift as young as their fifth birthday. For me, it was a curse. Not only did I kill my mother in child birth but I have never shifted to this day and at nearly 21 I was either an EXTREMELY late bloomer (which is unlikely, no wolf has ever shifted later than 18 in our pack history) or I was wolf-less. The irony of the latter was not lost on me or on my tormentors. Either way, it didn't matter. After my dad killed himself 5 years ago, my uncle Sylas took control of the pack, and in one night, I went from being Pack royalty to nothing more than a slave for the packs EVERY needs. Even a wolf-less alphas only daughter was still an alphas daughter. I wouldn't have been alpha, but my mate would have, I'd have been the Luna, and my future son would have been alpha. I trudged down to the kitchen hoping to slip past the chefs at work and sneak through the scullery to the cellar to begin my inventory and prep for the party I wasn't informed that I'd have to plan in its entirety. I may not have the privileges of a Luna, but I certainly had all the work of one and then some. As I bustled through not making eye contact with anyone, a familiar friendly voice called out. "Aye pet, where'd ya think you're going in such a hurry?" I playfully dropped my shoulders and threw my head back as I heaved a mock sigh like I was a petulant teenager. "Don't you sass me, missy! Come ere, " Kevin said in his thick Northern accent as he gestured for me. I couldn't help but smile as he pulled me into one of his big bear hugs. "Kev, you know I appreciate your food scented cuddles, but I have a huge party I JUST found out about that I will no doubt have to plan so I better get started!" I whined into his chef whites as i was being pressed against his huge wide chest in his embrace. He let me free and held me at arms length. "Why-aye-man, why would Sylas do that to ya? To me!!!" Kevin gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, we best all get to it then, I know for a fact ya haven't eaten today, so I'll bring ya's through a sandwich and some pop in bit alreet?" "Kevin, that would be SUBLIME!" I exclaimed, clasping my hands together in prayer and doing a small bow of thanks in his direction as I backed away. "Right, catch you in a bit then! Mwah!" I waved and blew him an over the top kiss, then turned on my heel and practically skipped three steps before I turned the corner out of sight and turned sad again. Kevin, the head chef, was such a kind old soul. He had been head chef here since before I was born. When I was little, he would sit me on an up turned crate and have me "help" him cook. Which mainly consisted of tasting everything or throwing pre measured ingredients into pots. He would tell me stories of my mother through food. "Look what am making 'ere little Luna, ya mam loved pizza when ya were in her tummy, but she liked it with anchovies and pineapple" I remember him chuckling as he made pizzas that day. Then, when the day came after my dad died that I was moved down to the cellar it was he that kept 16 year old me together. Bringing me pizza and cans of soda when I didn't leave my room for days. When I first got sequestered down to the cellar after my father's death, it was a massive shock for me. I'd grown up in the level of splendour I was accustomed to. I wasn't spoilt mind you, dad had been cold and downright nasty most of my life, he developed a drinking problem after mum died and used me as his punching bag both physically and emotionally. It was mostly slaps and yelling at me, not as bad as some girls have it, but as a therapist would probably say, a***e is a***e. The one thing he didn't do was keep me in the cellar. He mostly ignored me until he wanted someone to unleash at. So, I lived alone in the Lunas apartments where mum had lived. It was practically a self-contained penthouse apartment with an on-suite shower and bathroom as well as a separate parlour, entertainment room, kitchenette, dining room, and a bedroom with a balcony Compared to the staff room, he had repurposed into living quarters for me it was a 5* hotel. It was a tiny 6ft by 6ft room with a bathroom stuffed into a tiny room no bigger than a wardrobe. I was lucky enough to have a small single bed with handknitted blankets and pillows made from old chef whites sewn together and stuffed with rags and plastic parcel stuffing. At every chance he got Kevin, he would sneak me clothes, books, and other essential items he could afford on his modest salary. For a short while, after I got used to my new living arrangements, though vastly different to before my fathers death, things actually seemed somewhat... Better. Yeah, I had a sh***y room, but at least I wasn't being harmed. Or so I thought. It didn't take my uncle long after my dads death to fill his place as my tormenter. But he was worse than my dad had ever been. Mate-less and power mad was a bad combination for Sylas. It made him hunger for me in ways an uncle should never think of his niece. But it also made him cruel. I shudder just to think of the nights he comes to visit me long after the kitchen is closed and I've curled up in my tiny bed. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts and misery that I didn't realise until it was too late that Beta Chase had followed me down here. I turned on the light, and as I unlocked the door, I felt a searing pain as a blow landed on the back of my head. I stumbled and fell into my room, bouncing my head off the concrete floor with a sharp crack. As I lay there fighting to stay conscious Beta Chase turned me over and loomed over me with a sickeningly hungry look just before everything went black I heard him snarl, "This will teach you to ignore your Beta you little b***h. At least if you're not awake, you can't fight back."