Beautiful Omega

One

I love you so much please remain resilient. No matter what happens you need to stay soft

Hell was the only way I could describe this place.

For most of my life, I had known nothing but cold stone floors and damp walls from the leaky exposed pipes. My body always ached from the nonstop work or heaviness of a hand across my face. And my wolf, she had not grown since the last time I had seen the moon.

It was a ridiculous thought. Hell did not have a moon, and the lunar goddess had long since abandoned this pack.

"Alright Omega. Time to get up."

I winced as I sat up from the hard stone floor. One of the guards had opened the cell door, the creaky hinges squealing into the damp air. I guess it was finally morning, the only time I was allowed out to do my chores.

The Alpha, Jebediah Smith, saved these tasks especially for me. Three in the morning sharp, was when I had to clean every inch of the pack's compound. No breaks or complaints allowed.

I walked silently through the stone and tile corridors of the compound, the faded logo of a long-since dead company still lingering behind on the walls. Here and there on the old factory walls, I would see the pack's name, Blue Moon, sprayed on in paint and accompanied by Smith's logo, a constant reminder of who we belonged to. Who I belonged to.

The guard stopped trailing me once I reached a familiar set of polished wooden doors. I thought of not knocking, of just sneaking back down the hall and trying to find a way out, but I just shook the thought away. It was a fantasy I foolishly entertained every day, one Smith would make me pay for should I indulge it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I sighed as my knuckles rapped against the wooden doors again, the beginning of the cycle again.

"Come in."

I walked into the room, the only place within the compound that was warm and filled with comfort. It was a wide space decorated with heavy drapes of deep blue covering the stone wall and woven carpets on the floor. Upholstered furniture shipped from afar sat around the room, with a large canopied bed being the centerpiece.

Standing near the single large window overlooking the factory floor was Smith. My tormentor. My keeper. My father.

He was bare-chested with his brown hair tousled as if he had just rolled out of bed. A hand was lazily poised on his hip, while muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin as he raised the cup of tea to his lips. He didn't spare me a glance.

The Beta, Chevron, looked newly risen as well with sleep clinging to his eyes. He lounged within one of the chaise sofas in the room, with one arm swung over the side so his hand could play within the hair of the sleeping man on the floor.

He was the third and last person within the room. My caretaker and papa, Data, kept here not because of his power or rank, but because Smith and Chevron liked him as a plaything. I could see new bruises that dotted his skin, already beginning to heal as they did within wolves.

Beta Chevron sat up slowly, casting a lazy gaze over me as he did so. His dark eyes raked my starved body, and I swore I could see satisfaction and intrigue within his eyes. It made me want to hurl.

"Kiari. You look absolutely disgusting per usual."

I did not bother looking to Smith. He didn't care what Chevron said to me, he just was not allowed to touch me. The Alpha didn't like spoiled goods anyway.

I silently agreed with him with a nod, the only thing I could do. My tank top was holey and my skirt faded and plagued with loose threads. It was a horridly trashy outfit, befitting someone they only saw as trash. Still, I was lucky I was allowed these clothes when other females were spared only the dark for coverings.