Curvy orphan; Breeder or Beloved

*Evvy* The full moon casts its ethereal glow over the Alpha’s estate that is placed almost in the middle of the pack grounds, transforming the mundane into the mystical. I have always found a peculiar solace under the moon's watchful eye, a reminder that in this world of hardship, there’s still beauty to be found. Tonight, however, its luminance feels like a spotlight, accentuating my isolation amidst the gathering of people. The occasion? The 18th birthday of the Alpha’s twins, Livy and Weston, a celebration that feels more like a coronation of cruelty than a birthday party. It is almost impossible to believe that they were once my best friends and protectors. I navigate through the throngs of our pack and visiting guests, feeling invisible as I do most of the time. But honestly invisible is better than not, because when I am not it usually means being mocked and bullied if not downright tortured. It isn’t like I was ever popular, but I used to have friends, and each cruel word, wrapped in disdain, is a reminder of how far I have fallen since my parents' untimely death. I miss my parents, especially my dad, he was the beta of the pack. He always made me feel loved and protected me. “Whoops!” I am not even sure which of the three giggling girls who tried to trip me, it also does not matter, if I say anything I will just be the one in trouble. Despite the ache in my chest, I push forward, trays of appetizers balanced precariously in my hands. Livy catches my eye, her lips curling into a sneer as she deliberately bumps into me, sending the trays crashing to the floor. “Oops,” she drawls, her voice dripping with mock apology, while her brother Weston watches, amusement flickering in his eyes. His gaze lingers on me longer than necessary, a predatory gleam in his eye that I have come to dread. While Livy’s disdain is as sharp and overt as broken glass, Weston’s is a shadow, lurking in moments when we’re alone, his inappropriate touches leaving a trail of unease on my skin. I never understood how he on one hand uses every excuse to brush against or even grove my breast and ass, but he always tells me that I am fat and ugly and no man will want me. “Clean that up, Evvy,” Livy commands, her voice cutting through the laughter that follows her command. With a sigh I bend down, gathering the remnants of my dignity along with the scattered appetizers, my heart heavy. It’s in moments like these that I miss my parents the most, their warm embraces and words of encouragement now distant memories. I find myself whispering a silent prayer to the moon… for a mate who sees beyond the surface and love me or the strength to leave this place once I turn 18 in a couple of months. The night wears on, a blur of faces and forced pleasantries for the guests and hard work for me, until the moment of the twins’ official coming of age under the full moon. The pack gathers outside, the air charged with anticipation and the ancient magic of our kind. As the moon reaches its zenith, casting its silver light upon us, I feel its power coursing through my veins, a wild call to the primal part of my soul even if I can’t change yet. Everyone is waiting with baited breath, to see if any of the twins will claim a mate. But neither do. Then, unexpectedly, Weston’s gaze finds mine, his eyes intense and unyielding. There’s a shift in the air, a tension that coils around us, drawing me to him against my will. I feel breathless but also slightly scared. As the ceremony concludes, he corners me in a secluded part of the garden, away from the watchful eyes of the pack. “Evvy,” he begins, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine. I shake my head, taking a step back, “Please just leave me alone Weston.” “The moon has revealed our fate. You’re my mate.” He grabs my upper arm, stopping me. His words should fill me with joy, a promise of belonging and love. Instead, they are laced with a poison that seeps into my heart. I see the distaste flicker in his eyes, his gaze roving over me with barely concealed contempt. “Oh!” Is all I can manage to say. “Don’t get any ideas, you will never be my Luna,” he continues, his words like a slap. “You’re not pretty enough, and way too chubby to stand by my side. But…” he leans in, his breath hot against my ear, “Do not believe for a moment I will reject you. You will bear me strong, healthy kids.” His claim, devoid of affection, reduces me to nothing more than a vessel, an incubator for him to use. I stand there, frozen, as he pulls back to scrutinize my reaction. In his eyes, I see not a future of love and partnership, but a sentence to a life devoid of the respect and affection I yearn for. “Please Weston, just reject me,” I beg him. I wish it was in my hands, that I had the power to break the bond, but I am a lower rank than him and I do not even have my wolf yet… even if I managed it might end up killing me. His eyes narrows, and he grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him, “No, I always wanted to use and abuse those titties and that jiggle ass, and now no one can stop me, because you belong to me.” In that moment, under the watchful gaze of the moon, a resolve stirs within me. I may be his mate by the will of the moon Goddess, he might be able to force me to stay, and hh might be able to use my body, but I refuse to let Weston, or anyone else, define my worth. I won’t let him break me. Weston waits for my submission, but instead, I find my voice, quiet yet unwavering. “I am more than what you see, Weston. And I deserve more than what you’re willing to give.”