The Pack House

Morning Wake-Up Call

A/N: So this early but that's because I go to such great inspiration for this. So I really hope you like it! If you did comment, vote, and follow me 😊.

Pic: Mason; isn't he a cutie?

Peace Out, Girl Scouts

~Kate~

"Get up Mason. You've been asleep for, like, ever!"

I moaned, pulling the thick comforter over my head as Alex's obnoxious whiny tone pierced my ears. I could feel two other boys hopping up and down on my bed as well. "Ten more minutes," I groaned, snuggling deeper into my bed.

"Nooo. Red's looking for you."

My eyes popped open, fear making me jolt into a sitting position. I blinked wildly, trying to clear my mind of all sleepiness. "What? Why?"

Three almost identical blonds smiled at me guiltily: my first clue they were lying. Alex bit his lip, trying to avoid my piercing eye contact with all he had. He was still wearing his pjs. A baggy gray tee hanging off a creamy shoulder, graced with a big purple and blue hickey from work last night. "Alex..." My tone was low, warning.

"Okay, okay. So he's not quite looking for you," Alex decided smiling at me guiltily. "But he could be."

I resisted the urge to kick him off the bed knowing he was probably sore enough. Instead I shot him a filthy look and snapped, "Is sleep too much ask of you dorks?"

The 'dorks' just giggled like a bunch of girls and started to hop up and down on the big, soft bed. When I first came here when I was sixteen, I loved the bed. It was a luxury I'd never experienced. I went from a cot in my older brother's room to a hard mattress in a closet at Jim's house, to this. It was one of the few good changes. "Let's make breakfast," Sammy begged, blue eyes big and innocent.

You'd never imagine the twenty-one year old omega to be the whore he was. He seemed so docile, so calm. But he never did get mated off. Why? His Marks. Omegas took classes in cleaning, cooking, and general obedience. Form what I've gathered Sammy had a lot of trouble at home with a drunken father and wasn't exactly pure, if you get my drift. He missed too many classes, did too poorly, and suddenly no male would take him. So his father, the cold hearted bastard he was, pawned Sammy over to Red in exchange for a pound and a half of fine tobacco and one hundred dinjs. Red would fondly say, "He practically gave you to me," to torture the omega when he was angry with him.

Red was fair...sometimes. Other times he was downright cruel. But we didn't get full brunt of it thankfully, because he always took his rage out on his accidental mate. Yes, I said accidental. Bites are a claim, a solid seal between two wolves. One did not accidentally bite another on the shoulder. Especially during sex. But Red had and now poor Cam was stuck with a wolf who seemed to be painfully obsessed and uncaring of him at the same time. Red would go from giving Cam out for free to locking him away in his bedroom for days at a time.

We tried to help him when we could but there was only so much to do. We were all Red's property and legally he could do as he pleased with us. When Red got angry he would remind us he could, tear our 'fucking throats out and nobody will do shit about it'. We were always pretty compliant after.

Red owned the Pack House. It was the only one in the region which meant that we got a lot of business from all the surrounding packs. All the time. Usually warrior wolves came to us, cashing in their rations in exchange for a night of 'passion' or being humped into the mattress over and over again until they were exhausted or broke or Red told them to get out because we were closing.

I used to hate it. I used to cry and beg for them not to; to stop. Red would beat and starve me as a way to make me stop fighting back. Eventually I did. And I began to enjoy my job.