WITCH’S EYES

01

Melany's POV

The sharp impact of the heels against my palms sent me recoiling, collapsing onto the unforgiving floor. Despite the familiar sting, the repeated insults of "b***h!" and "Slut!" no longer held the power to distract me from the searing physical agony.

Victoria grabbed my hair and yanked me up off the floor so that I had to look up at her gorgeous and arrogant face. "You know very well why you are getting beaten." She looked at her friends.

The minions echoed Victoria with much more exaggerated expressions. "Of course, because you are the daughter of a traitor. b***h!"

"You do not deserve to live in a wolf pack."

In an instant, another brutal slap landed squarely on my face, causing my head to whip to the side.

Victoria finally released her grip on my hair, and the force of her hold relinquished, my body crashed mercilessly onto the ground. The excruciating sensation of Victoria's stiletto heels digging into my back persisted, mingling with the flurry of punches and kicks that followed.

"No..."

They obviously did not expect my sudden outburst, and Victoria questioned, "What did you say?"

"I said... No, my parents are not traitors!"

I tried to say it as firmly and forcefully as I could, but someone had just kicked me in the throat and the defense sounded very weak.

Even though I was beaten to the point of unconsciousness at this point, I could feel the anger in them. They were angry at my defense of my parents, and what made them angrier was the fact that a slave of low status had dared to defy them.

Actually, I would have been much less abused since childhood if I had not believed so strongly in my parents.

As loyalty was very important to the Black Moon pack, they were angry with me, the daughter of a traitor. I would have died in the wild if it was not so cruel to exile an unsuspecting little girl. Black Moon's Alpha allowed me to work in the pack house in exchange for staying alive until I left the pack at 18, but that did not stop them from hazing me, just like today, and every day before.

In fact, I could not hold it up before they launched their first "attack". But if I passed out too soon, the she-wolves would continue their abuse when I woke up. After a short time, the sounds of their cursing grew distant, the pain in my body subsided, and the cold and darkness wrapped around me.

"I may die." With that thought, a faint "Stop!" reached my ears before I was completely plunged into darkness.

Whether to call it luck or misfortune, I awoke from the embrace of death. I braced myself to get up from the floor, only to realize that my right hand was broken, and I tried to see myself in the reflection of the stainless steel pan next to me.

The reflection in the stainless steel pan, there was a girl with bruises all over her thin and dry body. I did not know if it was because of malnutrition or my long dry hair that was dusty and gray covering half of my face. I suddenly remembered the reason I was still alive.

Had I been hallucinating before I passed out?

I heard that someone saved me. The voice sounded familiar, but would anyone in this pack house dare to contradict Victoria to save me? I could not help but scoff at the stupid idea.

I was about to leave the kitchen when I realized that the door was locked tightly. Without thinking I knew that it was a prank by Victoria and her friends and that I would have to wait until tomorrow morning. The temperature in the kitchen was getting colder as the night wore on, and I had to curl up into a ball as much as I could, but my teeth were still clinking together uncontrollably.

I often remembered my parents, the "traitor" parents who gave me a happy, warm home until I was six, who looked after me like a princess, just like Victoria, except I wasn' t as mean and vicious as Victoria.

Victoria had actually shown her dislike for me when I was a child and my father was a Beta of the Black Moon wolf pack. I was still so naive to take her as a friend back then, until that thing happened. It was only when I became a slave and she became a Beta's daughter that she showed her true face.

In truth, the majority of the wolves within the pack treated me as if I were some kind of contagious plague, deliberately keeping their distance. However, it was Victoria who took special pleasure in orchestrating her friends to torment me, exploring every avenue to make my life a living nightmare.

My heart sank again at the thought of my parents. They were the most gentle people in the world, and memories of my mother's soft embrace and my father's broad palm made tears well up from my eyes.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, my sobs shaking my entire body.

Overwhelmed by the anguish, I could not discern whether it was the suffocating lack of oxygen or the searing pain coursing through my battered form that caused me to succumb once more to unconsciousness.

**

The early morning sun woke me up. It was already time to make breakfast. If I delayed the meal, I would be beaten again.

I looked at my right hand, which was swollen from the fracture. There was no choice but to use my left hand to prepare as best I could.

Crack!

The door was suddenly opened and the person who came in was definitely in the top three of the "People I do not want to see" list.

Dominic was Alpha Andre's son and he was not as vicious as Victoria when it came to bullying me, he is just casual. But as soon as his golden brown eyes saw me, I was going to suffer, just like I was now.

Dominic looked like he had just woken up from a nap. His messy long chestnut hair added a wildness to his deep, handsome face, and even if he was not the son of an Alpha, the girls surrounding him would continue to be infatuated with him because of his appearance.

With an authoritative tone, he barked at me, demanding a bacon and scrambled egg breakfast.

My trembling left hand clumsily attempted to comply, but the simple act became an arduous task. Every movement caused excruciating pain to shoot through my body.

The sizzle of the frying pan filled the tense air as I struggled to assemble the dish.

Finally, I managed to place the plate before him, my eyes filled with a mix of hope and trepidation.

However, his gaze met mine with a revulsion that cut deep. In one swift motion, his arm swept across the table, violently knocking the plate out of my trembling hand. The contents scattered across the floor, a heartbreaking display of wasted effort.

The clatter of ceramic and the splatter of food echoed the callousness of his action, leaving a lingering sense of despair in the room.

"You look too dirty. How am I supposed to eat the food you make?"