Chapter 1
"Bitch, I own you," he sneered aggressively.
I couldn't help but snort at the fact he called me a dog. He technically wasn't wrong. We all were 'bitches', at least according to the science books. Such is the fate of being part wolf.
"Was that funny?" he growled, shaking my hair like a rag doll, "Do you think that was funny?!" His voice roared throughout the room. I forced myself to stutter a no.
I didn't find Daniel scary; I never had. In fact, I found this all sickeningly amusing from the first day I stepped on the clan's grounds. I couldn't help the smirk that tugged the corner of my lip.
He noticed, of course. How could anyone when your face is less than a foot away from yours? Before I could feign a pity frown, a leg collided with my side. He let go of my hair and kicked me again, sending me to the floor. The smirk had been replaced by a thin, tired line.
Seemingly satisfied, he began to walk away. He looked back at me; despite years of hasty warnings the fellow maids gave me, I fought his gaze. His eyes were dark brown, just another piece of imagery showing that he is a total piece of shit. Well, it wasn't like my eyes were any different.
Us two shit-for-eyes stared at each other, eternally locked into the world's worst staring contest. Until he, predictably, kicked me again.
"Dinner. Now," he commanded with a tone that was meant to scream 'I'm-top-alpha-so-do-what-I-say'. He's been practicing it on me for years, preparing for when he's supposed to take over the clan. However, like the last few years, it was only a matter of faking it until he made it. His eyes were still their normal hue of yellow instead of the soul-piercing black they were supposed to be when using the 'alpha's command'. Legends say it is the Moon Goddess' way of saying he isn't ready to take control of his pack. I say he will never be, or at least never should be able to be.
The air was frigid, making a shiver run down my spine as I tried to recollect my breath. Pain coursing through my side was quickly relocated to my head as I was pulled to my feet by my hair. My efforts to not care were fading as the pain was bordering on too much.
"I... I'm sorry," I mumble, still trying to act like I had some sort of upper hand.
"'I'm sorry' what?" he growled.
"I'm sorry, alpha," I sighed out, tears beginning to collect in my eyes without my permission. Dammit, I thought, to think I was doing so well this time too.
"That's right, bitch," the smug bastard releases my hair and pushes me back. At least he was gracious enough to let me keep my balance this time. He walks off one way, leaving me to limp away towards another.
To think he's meant to be the future alpha of this clan. I'd never want anyone to be under his control. Not even if they were forced to be. I darkly chuckled at this fact before limping towards the kitchen.
It felt almost pathetic that I had to be the one to create the future alpha his lunch everyday. The only thing that felt worse was the fact the alpha demanded it personally, despite me knowing his schedule damn well enough. Perhaps he thought I was too stupid to even remember when he wanted his stupidly extravagant meals.
Walking through the royal kitchen always had an ounce of shame to it. Having to pass by everyone, some with similar daily marks like mine, to get to the little station in the corner reserved specifically for the alpha's maiden. The first few weeks I had started the culinary torture, a couple of people would greet me. No one cares anymore.
It took me thirty minutes to prepare the dish for today--a fancy foreign food from some foreign nation his father started trading with. I never took the time to learn their names; they were probably remade to fit his specific taste palette anyways.
