Second Chances

Chapter One

         I was 24 when my real life began. I didn't know it at the time, it was just an ordinary day that started like all the others. Rising before the sun, the drudgery of kitchen duties, stoically bearing the kicks and jabs of the pack members I got too close to, a few precious moments stolen in the gardens to feel the sun upon my face.

         When I was younger, my mother had made my future sound exciting. I would find my place in the pack, just as she and my father had. Dad was a gardener—whether it was food or flowers, plants thrived under his care. Mom was a teacher. She said that part of her job was to help all of pups find the things we excelled at. And then, someday, she said, just like her and Dad, I would find my mate, my other half, the one I would share my life with. If I had even a fraction of the happiness of our little family, life would have been pretty perfect.

         Life, it seems, had different plans for me. A rogue attack when I was just six years old changed everything. It would be years before I figured out the surviving pack members blamed my Dad and since I was the only one left in my family, I took the punishments. The rogues had gotten close enough to attack by hiding in my father's fields. He always took such pride in how big and bountiful his crops were and before the attack, the pack was proud, too. We did not have to depend on human markets and farmers for our food because of Dad and his workers. Fruits, vegetables, grains, livestock—they provided it all. But when two thirds of your people are slaughtered, I guess you look for blame where you can and unfortunately for me, it landed on me.

        “Sierra!” I jumped at the loud voice behind me. s**t. I was lost in thought and hadn't kept an eye on my surroundings. A blow to the back of my head made me stumble forward and bang my knees on the rough stone of the floor. “You know the visiting Alphas will be here today, why isn't the hall set up?” A kick to my side had me scrambling to my feet and quickly backing up out of reach.

        I glanced up quickly at the man before me and then stared back down at his feet. “I was just on my way back to the kitchen to get the rest of the food, Alpha,” I stated softly. “It will be finished very soon.”

        He muttered under his breath, “Useless,” before walking past me, shoving me into the wall as he passed.

        I sighed and started for the kitchen again. Normally I don't get distracted, I stay out of the way of the Alpha. Aron. I think he hated me most of all and never missed a chance to leave a bruise when I didn't manage to avoid him. He was 10 years older than I, just 16 when his father was killed during the attack. At first, it wasn't so bad when he became Alpha. He didn't like me, nobody did, but he just ignored me for the first two years.

        Arriving at the kitchen, I grabbed an empty cart and started filling it with bowls and platters full of fragrant food. Early this morning after breakfast was over, I had set up the long banquet in the hall for the Alphas and their families while Aron and the visiting Alphas tried to form an alliance. Even if I was hated by my pack, I still didn't want anyone else to die. This alliance was important for us and the other packs nearby. Over the last 8 years the attacks had continued, we had lost more people, we continued to weaken. Working together with the other Alphas gave us all a chance to drive the rogues from our territories and stop the attacks.

        Rolling the cart out of the kitchen, I quickly checked the passageway, making sure Aron wasn't still around. I hadn't really thought of it in years, but pushing the cart out of the kitchen made my mind flash back to Aron's 18th birthday. I wasn't big enough back then to do so much of the cooking and set up back then for his birth celebration, but it was my job to push the loaded cart down to the hall. I was halfway down the passageway when Aron came around the corner and suddenly stopped, staring at me. I could see his nostrils flare, as though he was scenting something in the air. I smiled at him as I got closer to him and he growled at me. My smile had faltered and I had stopped walking. Usually when I passed him, he ignored me but he'd never been hostile towards me. I didn't understand why he was suddenly growling, clenching his fists, his face turning hard and angry.

        He stepped closer to me and shoved the cart away from me. It rolled a few feet away and hit the wall. He had shoved it hard enough it tipped over, spilling his favorite foods across the floor. He shoved me into the wall and I started to cry. He growled again and leaned close to me. I could feel his hot breath on my face as he snarled, “I will never accept you. Your family destroyed us.” His voice rose and his next week had me clutching my stomach as waves of pain flowed through me. “I reject you.”

         Sixteen years ago. I pushed the cart into the hall and started to unload. I didn't know what the pain was then. I was just eight and had no mother or aunties or anyone, really, to tell me. Later I learned that even though I wasn't of age yet, he had been able to sense his mate that day. Me. I was rejected by the person my mother said would be my everything before I was even old enough to sense him myself. I had known that someday I would meet someone and just know we belonged together but Mom hadn't been specific about it. He has hated me ever since.