The Bullied Rogue & Her Triplet Alphas

EMILY "Get me a rope! If she refuses to sit still, I will tie her up personally. b***h!" The yelling echoed in my ears as if it were a thousand people screaming at the same time, yet all I could see was Cecilia, my stepmother. Growing up, I was always scared of her, but that fear had long since given way to scorn and a deep, undying hatred for the woman. Cecilia, with her short, graying hair, sunken cheekbones like spider webs, and thick lips pulled into an unpleasant sneer, resembled a crazy creature rather than the lady my father married. I never felt safe with her. Even now, I found myself withdrawing into my chair, pretending the room wasn't spinning and that none of this was happening to me. I pretended it was all a dream and that I wasn't being set up to be the new bride of a man I would despise for the rest of my life. What an irony! To think that I had always dreamed of getting married. Only but to a man who would love me forever, mate bond or not. We'd kiss, hug, hold hands while walking down the aisle, and I'd be free. I'd take my brother, and we'd leave this place, finally free of my father and stepmother's evil shackles. But that was not the case. What was happening was considerably worse than I could have ever imagined. My fate was being irreversibly and permanently connected to someone I hardly knew. And as I sat in fragile silk undergarments and a drab white gown, with maidservants fumbling my hair pins, I felt nothing but dread. It was just too much—too much to handle. Too much to bear… "Sit straight as the maids tie your hair back! My goodness, this girl!" Cecilia screeched between her clenched teeth. She grabbed a lock of my hair terribly, almost ripping the length out. "You don't want your husband thinking you're a tattered and messy girl, no?" A hiss escaped my lips and I attempted to pull away, but she held firm. Her chilly fingers drove into my scalp so firmly that it stung. As I struggled, tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill out. But I refused to let them fall. Not now. No, today I wouldn’t cry. Scared as I was, I couldn't break down before her. I would not show any weakness because she was not worth it. So,I bit my tongue firmly and hissed again. "You can hiss from now till tomorrow; it won't change anything. This wedding will take place whether you like it or not." "You'll have to drag me down the aisle then." The sentence sprang out of my mouth before I could think, but Cecilia's harsh glare indicated I’d struck a nerve. Good. Those words were the same ones I told my father a few days before when he called to notify me of his plans to marry me off. The man was a well-known war general, he’d said. I’d spat at his feet, expressing my dissatisfaction, resulting in a harsh slap across my face. Nonetheless, I didn't care. I meant what I stated and intended to defy their intentions till my death. I struggled again, trying to stand, but it was difficult when three extremely determined maids were holding me, and I felt the ropes at that same time. They tied my hands behind my back and wrapped my ankles and waist so tightly it hurt. I let out a curse. "f**k!" "I don't even know why you're making such a fuss," Cecilia muttered, disgustedly looking at me. "You are a poor princess with no mate to call your own. Kieran is a powerful general, and you should be grateful that he wants you.” "But I never wanted him, or did I? Why should I be grateful?" I bared my teeth. "I never asked for this honorof marrying a general, Cecilia." "b***h! You're exactly like your mother. That w***e was ignorant and proud. You'd best be careful, or you might end up like she did." Cecilia's words were like being stabbed ninety times over, making me freeze. I was used to her rudeness and regular threats, but when she mentioned my mother, my stomach churned. Why? Why did she dislike my mother? However, the answer was obvious. It was because of my father, and as memories flooded back, I swallowed a lump. My father despised my mother, and when she died, my brother and I had to deal with whatever hatred he hadn't shown her while she was living. We lived as if we weren't the Rogue pack's prince and princess. We worked as servants and lived in worse conditions than the castle itself. Our beds were just wood slabs on bed frames, and our blankets were threadbare or patchwork. My adolescent years were marked by punches thrown and days without food. Even when the food was served, it was either spoilt or loaded with silver. If we so much as tried to stand up for ourselves, we were shackled with chains and drugged, rendering us unable to fight. It was a hellish few years, but things didn't change as we grew older; in fact, the torture became worse. I shut my eyes again to keep the tears hidden. "Get up," Cecilia dragged me up when I was finally untied. "Stop pouting, or you might ruin your makeup. Thank God you look passable. You better behave.” "You're calling me passable?" I took my time scanning her face. She was disfigured, as most rogue werewolves are. Her skin was the odd shade, and she had many growths on her face and across her body. My brother and I were the only ones in this pack without any malformations, which bothered Cecilia and my father more than it should. "You mouthy wretch!" She hissed and grasped my chin with her fingertips. "Keep talking, and I'll make your face look exactly like mine." I wanted to respond to her, but the sentence in my throat was cut short when my father entered the room, a bland expression on his face. "Is she ready?" He asked but didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he looked at me and sneered. "Come here." My feet moved, but not on their own accord. And soon, I was standing next to him. He took my hand and placed it on his arm, grip tightening. I heard him whisper in my ear. "I must warn you now, Emily…" His voice became low and grave. "You'd better behave yourself. This family, as well as the entire pack, is banking on this marriage's success. So, stay f*****g still, or I guarantee you won't survive to see another day." His grip grew stronger, and his fingers dug into my flesh as he went on. "Since your mother died and left you and your brother with me, you've been useless. Now you may be useful; be grateful for that." ‘Well, let’s see.’ I wanted to retort but kept to myself. With nothing else to say, he escorted me out of the dressing room and down the hallways to meet my waiting husband. ~•~ Kieran leered at me as the priest began reciting the lines from the sacred scroll of Union. His eyes glittered, and his thick blonde brows rose in faux astonishment. A sneer stretched across his face, showing two rows of crooked yellow teeth and an unpleasant smile. I shuddered. This was my first real glimpse of the monster I was about to marry. The General - as he was fondly called - was towering and imposing, with intense dark eyes that glinted maliciously, broad shoulders, and large beefy arms. He wasn’t handsome, but he wasn't ugly either. He had stubble and multiple deep scars on his face, a Roman nose, and a square jaw. His dark blonde hair was trimmed relatively short. It hung around his neck, covering the lower portion of his face. He donned a military-style tunic that hung to his knees and black trousers that came halfway up his calves. A gold chain hung from his left ear, connected to a golden torc that glistened and caught the light in various spots on his shirt. His long boots were coated with fur. Seeing him filled me with dread, which intensified when I met his stare. He was staring lustfully at me, his gaze sweeping over my breasts, which were exposed over the top of this dress. Without blinking, he moved in close to my ear, mumbling something, and I caught a whiff of his awful breath - cigarettes and whatever the f**k he had eaten today. "You look beautiful." His tone annoyed the hell out of me. "I thought your father was lying when he said you were different." He huffed a bit. "But I must admit you're a really fine one." The compliment irritated me. I scowled at him, and he just laughed. "I wasn't looking forward to this marriage, you know, but with your pretty looks, I think I can learn to enjoy it." He leaned forward and angled his hand to brush across my hip and ass. I flinched, and he shook his head. "Do not be terrified, little rogue. I vow to be very gentle with you tonight as long as you are obedient." I shuddered again, flinching as his palm slid over my ass again. Given that the only guests in the hall were my father, Cecilia, and two of Kieran's men, this spectacle would undoubtedly go unnoticed. They didn't care. Nobody ever did. My gaze flickered to Kieran's armed guards, then back to him. A blade was hidden under his belt, and another behind the folds of his shirt. The weapons kept me docile for the time being, but they were also why my plan would work. "And now, let's say the vows." The priest cleared his throat. "Who is going first?" He looked between the two of us and signaled for Kieran to begin. The general growled under his breath, then stood up and began reciting what I'm sure was a speech he did not write himself. He was interrupted, however, by the sound of a loud whistle and something cracking just beyond the hallway. My father and Cecilia turned around, and Kieran did the same, apparently unhappy by the interruption. I waited a beat for my father to go out and examine things. Kieran's men followed, and Cecilia also left. The wedding was private, so they didn't want anyone to know what was happening. I waited another second, watching them turn a corner before seizing the opportunity. Without hesitation, I lifted my foot and slammed it as hard as possible against Kieran's groan. "You b***h!" He cursed, groaning as he fell to the floor. I stood over him, my lips curled into a cruel smile. "Well, this b***h just got the better of you." I leaned down and took the knife from his waistband. My hands were shaking, but I didn't have time to calm them down since my father was returning, and based on the expletives he spat out, he was furious. I quickly ripped the marital ribbon that connected my hand to Kieran's, gave the cowering priest a sorrowful look, and rushed out the hall’s back door. "Emily!" I heard my father yell, but I did not respond. "Emily!" My stepmother also screeched, and I could hear the clatter of her rapid footsteps behind me. "Come back here, you stupid b***h!” But I did not glance back. Not once, and raising my dress, I tossed off my heels and just kept running.