Overthrowing the Ruthless Alpha

"Argh!!!" A painful scream tore from my throat as I hit the hard ground. "I'm really sorry!" I cried, but my voice was drowned out by the angry crowd surrounding me. "It's high time you know your place!" "You don’t belong here!" "You never have a place here!" "You are never one of us!" Their voices rose like a storm, full of hatred and disgust. Everywhere I looked, I saw nothing but scorn. I knew I didn’t belong here, but this treatment was becoming unbearable. "You may never live to see sunlight again, you weak and worthless excuse of a wolf," Celeste, the Alpha’s sister, sneered, her eyes locked onto mine with cold amusement. Her hands curled around my neck, tightening just enough to make my breath hitch. Then, with a cruel smile, she shoved me back onto the ground. I gasped, coughing as dust filled my lungs. I had never truly belonged in this pack. Maybe once—before my adoptive mother passed away. She had found me twenty years ago, according to her,alone and orphaned on the streets. She took pity on me, raised me as her own, and for a short time, I knew love. But when I turned eight, she followed the Alpha of that time to battle… and never came back. Not long after that, everything changed. Once, I had warmth. Now, all I had was pain. I had become the most hated, the weakest, the lowest of all in this pack. Maybe I should run away. Maybe I should just end it all. I didn’t know what to do anymore. "Everyone stop!" A powerful voice cut through the noise, sending a hush over the crowd. "That’s enough." It was the pack Beta, Ares. "I think it’s high time we reduce beating her," he said, his tone calm but firm. I blinked at him. Ares had always been cold to me, just like the others. But lately, I had noticed something different—he was being softer, almost protective. I didn’t know what he was up to, but I couldn’t trust him. He had never cared before. "You shouldn’t allow anyone to trample on you like you’re some trash," he said, his voice carrying through the silent crowd. "You are a wolf." Before I could react, another voice rang out. "Well, I decide that." My heart sank. The Alpha. Killian. I hated when he stepped into my case. He was ruthless, cruel, and had no mercy for the weak. He strode toward me, his steps slow and deliberate, his sharp eyes burning into mine. The crowd moved aside for him, their excitement growing. They lived to see him punish me. Before I could move, his hand shot out and wrapped around my throat. He lifted me off the ground like I was weightless, holding me in the air as I struggled to breathe. His grip was firm, unshaken, like my pain meant nothing. Then, in a flash, he threw me. I barely had time to brace myself before my body slammed against a stone wall. Pain exploded through me, my bones screaming in protest as I crumpled to the ground. Blood filled my mouth, and I coughed, gasping for air. Laughter echoed around me. "Look at her! She’s so weak!" "Alpha Killian is too powerful for a pathetic thing like that!" I felt dizzy. My body ached, but I was still alive. I always survived. No matter how much they hurt me, no matter how much they tried to break me, I kept breathing. Killian stood over me, watching me with unreadable eyes. Then, he smirked. "I really wish I could burn you," he said, his voice calm, almost thoughtful. "But you’ll need to offend me for that first." He tilted his head slightly. "And when that day comes… I’ll glory in the flames of your death.” He then retreated back a little. Tears burned my eyes as I stood in the center of the pack, surrounded by their cold, unyielding stares. It was always like this. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I was always the enemy. Maybe I didn’t deserve to be alive. And today, my crime? The floor I had mopped was too wet. One of the pack’s enforcers had nearly slipped, and that was enough to summon me for punishment. My body trembled as I stood before them, waiting for their judgment like a criminal awaiting execution. I had been serving in the Alpha’s quarters since my adoptive mother died. But I hadn’t start as a servant—I had once been treated as part of the family. A daughter. A sister. Until the Moon Oracle spoke. She was the revered seer of the pack, a wolf of deep wisdom and spiritual sight, rarely seen unless fate demanded it. And fate had demanded it the day she spoke a prophecy that changed everything. She had foreseen war. A great and terrible battle tied to the fate of the pack. And at the heart of it—me. The prophecy was a riddle, one no one could fully understand. But the pack had already decided its meaning. If I lived, I would bring ruin upon them. If I was not "properly dealt with," I would lead them all to destruction. And so, they turned against me. The Alpha, Killian, turned to the enforcer who had almost fallen. "What do you think should be done to her?" The enforcer smirked. "Lock her up for three days. No food." A violent shudder ran through me. It wasn’t the hunger that made the punishment unbearable. It was the dungeon cell. A pitch-black, cursed place where shadows whispered, and unseen things moved in the dark. The cold seeped into your bones, the silence was filled with distant, echoing voices, and the air was thick with something that felt alive. I had been locked there more times than I could count, but I never got used to it. It was always a new nightmare. The last time, they had left me there for eight days. By the fourth, my body had been too weak to stand. By the sixth, I had wanted to end it all. But something inside me refused to die. A small, stubborn fire. An unshaken belief that my life had meaning. That no matter how much they hated me, I wasn’t nothing. "Let’s just forgive her," the Beta, Ares, spoke up. A tense silence followed. Killian’s gaze snapped to him, his expression unreadable. "What’s with you and this wretched girl?" His voice was sharp, edged with suspicion. Ares didn’t answer. Killian’s eyes darkened. "You’re up to something with her." Still, Ares remained silent. But I could see it—the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers curled into fists. He was angry. Furious, even. Killian took a step toward him, his posture rigid. "Don’t tell me you actually care." Ares said nothing. The tension between them thickened, heavy and dangerous. Killian hadn’t always been this cruel. But two years after his parents died—alongside my adoptive mother in the war—something inside him had shattered. He had lost his heart, lost whatever softness had once lived within him. Now, there was nothing left but coldness. It looks like he would take it hard on anyone who supported me, including his pack Beta.