CLAIMED IN THE ALPHA'S HEAT

ELENA’S POV The first thing I hear every morning is the heavy sound of footsteps outside my door. As an Omega, the lowest rank in Moonfall Pack, my life is a series of sounds that mean pain. Footsteps. Shouts. The crack of a slap. Today, the markings I have carved into the wall tell me that it is my eighteenth birthday. The Luna Goddess has ignored my prayers again—I have woken up in this miserable place one more time. “Elena!” Madam Miranda’s voice slices through the silence. “I hope you’re not still in bed, because if I come downstairs and those kitchen floors aren’t wiped clean, I will stain them with your blood!” I hear her. The entire house hears her. “Yes, Madam Miranda,” I reply, my voice trembling. I rise from the thin mattress I call a bed and drag myself into the bathroom. The girl in the mirror looks like a ghost—pale skin, lifeless green eyes, long matted brown hair. I can’t remember the last time I smiled. I used to smile every day, before the Beta's family carved the habit out of me. Before my parents died and my uncle sold me to them. My hands ache from last night’s chores. My cheeks still burn from her slaps. Don’t think about it, Elena. Don’t cry. Just survive . I rinse my face quickly, tie my hair into a tight bun, and grab the rag and bucket. The sun is barely up when I start cleaning the kitchen floor. The Beta’s house is warm and beautiful, filled with expensive rugs, gleaming tiled floors and imported artifacts. It is such a pity that such a beautiful place belongs to the ugliest people. “You’re not done?” Miranda’s voice freezes my spine. How did I not hear her footsteps this time? I turn slowly. “I—I’m sorry—” Her slap comes hard and fast, knocking me to the floor. “What did I tell you?” she hisses, grabbing my shirt and yanking me up before striking me again. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, tasting blood. “You pathetic omega,” Miranda glares at me and shoves me to the ground. Her eyes narrow as she observes her hand, seeing that it is stained with blood from my face. “Ugh,” she rushes to the sink and turns on the tap, rinsing her hand immediately. “You just had to stain my skin with your inferior blood.” I lower my head, not wanting to meet her eyes again. “If you are not done wiping these floors by the next time I come here, I will leave a permanent scar on your pathetic face.” With that order resounding in my head, she storms off, and I am left with stinging eyes and a throbbing lip. The floors are gleaming by the time I am done, they are so brightly shined that I can see my miserable reflection on them. Without wasting any more time, I start preparing breakfast. The smell fills the air as I arrange the dishes in the dining room. Laughter floats down the staircase — the family is awake. Miranda is comes down first, her cold eyes slicing into me. “I hope the kitchen is spotless,” she says. “Yes, ma’am.” Beta Rowan walks in next. I bow quickly. “You look a mess, as usual,” he says flatly. His gaze drags down my body, lingering on my full chest. My stomach twists. I fear the Beta. I fear the way his eyes follow me, the way he lingers too close. One day, those footsteps outside my room might be his and I know that I wouldn’t be able to stop him. “Wow, Elena, breakfast smells amazing,” a sweet voice chirps. Panic fills my bones as I lower my head immediately. It is her — the daughter of the Beta. The beautiful and insane Cassandra. Out of everyone in this house, I fear Cassandra the most. “Why do you always bow to me?” She laughs, placing her scented hand on my chin and forcing me to look at her. Her vivid blue eyes are glittering with something dark. “You smell awful. Please tell me you didn’t cook in those filthy clothes.” I swallow hard. What am I supposed to say? I normally bathe outside in freezing water before dawn, and last night it rained too heavily to go out. “I don’t need drama this morning, Cass. Sit and eat,” Beta Rowan instructs. Cassandra smiles but I don’t miss the slight disappointment in her eyes, the disappointment that she can’t torment me yet. I serve them and they begin to eat, Cassandra and Miranda are in an animated conversation while Beta Rowan is sipping coffee while reading a document. Then his spoon falls. I rush to his side immediately and bend down in front of him to pick it up when I feel a strong hand inside my skirt. I freeze in horror, knowing whose hand it belongs to. It is Beta Rowan’s. His fingers travel higher until I flinch away, placing the spoon back on the table with shaking hands. Miranda notices. “What is wrong with you?” “She helped me pick a spoon,” Rowan says sharply, sounding almost annoyed. Suddenly, he slams his documents on the table and stands up. “In fact, I am done here. I don’t have any appetite anymore.” He suddenly stands up and storms away, without another glance as soon as he leaves Miranda goes after him, leaving me alone with Cassandra. I quickly gather the plates, hoping to escape before she speaks. “Where do you think you are going?” she purrs. “I—I need to drop these—” “Are you not going to pack mine?” I drop the other plates on the table and rush to her side, lowering my head in apology. She smiles sweetly as she finishes her coffee. And then—she drops the mug. It shatters at my feet, its sharp shards slicing my skin. I kneel to pick the pieces, but her heel comes down hard on my hand, pinning it to the glass. A sharp cry escapes me. Cassandra’s smile widens. “Why are you screaming, Elena?” Blood drips down my wrist as she presses harder. “You think I didn’t see what you were doing? You think waving your ass in my father’s face will make him want you?” Her voice turns ice-cold. “My father would never reduce himself to be with dirt like you.” Pain explodes up my arm as she grinds my hand deeper into the shards. Tears blur my vision. She finally lifts her foot and crouches so our faces are inches apart. “If I ever catch the Beta looking at you again,” she whispers, “I will return your dead body to your parents’ tomb. Do you hear me?” I nod frantically. She smiles and her face transforms into something soft, angelic and horrifying. Then she leaves me bleeding on the floor. Only then do I allow myself to exhale. I can’t keep on living like this. Not anymore. Tonight, for the first time in seven years I am going to attempt the impossible. I am going to run away. Night falls quickly. I slip outside with my bucket, praying I don’t run into anyone, especially Cassandra, who always seems to be able to read my mind. The moon is full tonight, almost ominous, but I don’t care. Staying here means dying slowly. The guards watch the main gate, so I sneak to the back fence that is small and unguarded. I drop my bucket and turn on the tap, pretending like I am about to shower. The guards are at the front gate, paying no mind to me. With my heart racing, I rush over to the small fence and climb over quickly, leaving the tap on to maintain my showering illusion. As soon as my feet land on the outside of the gate, I run. I run until my lungs burn, until the cold air lashes my skin, until the pack house disappears behind the trees. Everyone always warns never to enter the woods at night, for fear of getting attacked by rogues. But I don’t care. It would be better to die on my own terms than in that house. Besides, for the first time in what feels like forever, I am free. Maybe—just maybe—I can escape this pack. I am smiling in relief, until I feel something intense burning into my back. Stopping immediately, I turn sharply and then I see them. Eyes. Huge, glowing golden eyes watching me from the darkness. Inhuman. Hungry. Its owner steps out of the darkness. It is a wolf, a massive one with thick black fur that blends seamlessly into the darkness. My blood runs cold. As it steps closer, my eyes drop to its chest, glowing faintly in the moonlight and I see a silver crescent moon, my breath stops. The Alpha’s mark. The Alpha’s wolf. I escaped the Beta’s house…only to run straight into the Alpha.