The Day Before

Girls POV

I woke up in immense pain from the brutal beating I took the day before. Every single movement was pure agony. My muscles screamed in protest as I forced myself off the hard floor, cursing the harsh reality that I survived just to face another day in this living hell. Despite my battered state, I was assigned to clean the east side cedar guest houses in preparation for the visiting king. I dragged my aching body through the massive cabin, wiping down the heavy wooden tables, polishing the glass, and making beds for guests who would never acknowledge my existence. The alpha demanded perfection for this visit. He harbored a delusional belief that his snobby, arrogant daughter would somehow be chosen as the king's mate. She would make a terrible Luna, let alone a queen, but in this pack, the alpha’s word was law.

As I scrubbed the hardwood floor, my mind wandered. I often dreamed of shifting into my wolf form and running far away from this nightmare. But the harsh truth grounded me. I was starved, weak from severe malnutrition, and endless physical abuse made a shift impossible. My wolf was trapped deep inside, silent and dormant, leaving me to face the horrors of this pack alone. While I was lost in these desperate thoughts, a heavy body slammed into my back.

Braddock ambushed me, shoving me hard against the cedar wall.

"Your ass is so sweet," he sneered with malice, his hot breath hitting the sensitive skin of my neck.

Without a shred of hesitation, he shoved his rough hands beneath the torn T-shirt I wore as a makeshift skirt. I didn't even have underwear; slaves weren't allowed such luxuries. He jammed his fingers inside my dry vagina.

"So tight and wet," he mocked, twisting his hand without any care.

I tried to scream, tried to plead for mercy and fight back, but my starved body was useless against his brute strength. He picked me up and threw me onto one of the freshly made beds. His heavy hand pinned me by the throat, cutting off my air. When I choked out a desperate plea, he slapped me across the face, the sharp crack echoing in the silent room. Then, he unzipped his pants and forced his thick cock into me, raping me right there. I squeezed my eyes shut, my short nails digging into the mattress as he grunted and thrust into my torn body with bruising force.

The door swung open. The alpha walked into the guest house. He didn't even blink at the horrific violation unfolding right in front of him. He ignored my suffering, staring down at me with pure disdain.

"Throw her in the dungeon until the visiting king leaves the territory," the alpha ordered.

Panic spiked through my chest. I kicked and begged in panic as Braddock pulled out of me and grabbed my arms. I was terrified of the freezing, pitch-black, spider-infested underground cells. The alpha only laughed at my misery, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Braddock dragged me without mercy down the dirt paths and into the darkness beneath the pack house. My heels scraped the rough stone steps. He threw me into the damp cell. The air down here smelled like rotting wood and stale blood. He clamped heavy iron shackles around my wrists, chaining my hands to the cold stone wall, pulling my arms up so I couldn't even sit upright. Then he locked the metal door, leaving me alone.

I slumped against the damp wall and cried my eyes out. I knew exactly why I was enduring this endless suffering. I was different from the rest of the pack. I was cursed with black hair and hazel eyes, while the other slaves had bright red or dull brown hair. I also bore a distinct mountain range birthmark on my right inner thigh. That was all it took for them to treat me like a diseased animal. I didn't ask to be born this way, but they made sure I paid for it every single day.

Sheer exhaustion pulled me into a restless, feverish sleep.

In my dreams, the pitch-black cell vanished. A blinding light surrounded me. Through the piercing glow, I saw the swishing motion of a black wolf tail. It swayed back and forth before disappearing into the void. The light began to dim.

I startled awake at the sound of rusty hinges whining.

Corbin, the alpha's son, slipped into my dark cell. Unlike his sadistic father, Corbin despised how the slaves were treated. He glanced over his shoulder before kneeling beside me on the filthy floor.

"This is all that I could manage to get you tonight," he whispered, setting down a small piece of stale bread and a dented tin cup of water. "I can try and bring more later."

"Thank you," I replied, my voice hoarse and raw from screaming.

Corbin nodded and hurried out, locking the heavy door behind him. He risked a severe whipping just by being down here. But my gratitude quickly turned to bitter humiliation. My hands were bound far too tight to the wall for me to reach the food. I had to lower my face to the damp stone and eat the meager meal off the filthy floor, like a stray dog. I only managed a few bites before my stomach twisted in knots.

After choking down the water, I pressed my raw, beaten back against the rough brick wall. The cold seeped into my battered bones. My body shook from the tears, and every sob sent fresh waves of pain through my bruised ribs. I cried myself back into an uneasy sleep.

The white light from my previous dream returned. This time, it did not just blind me; it brought a mysterious, disembodied voice.

"It's OK, your time is coming," the voice echoed warmly in my mind.

"Who is this?" I asked into the void, my dream-self searching the empty white expanse.

"All in good time," the voice replied in a cryptic tone.

The light faded. I woke up feeling confused by the vision. Who was speaking to me? Before I could process the strange dream, that confusion was replaced by pure terror.

Down the corridor, the chilling sound of jingling keys echoed against the stone walls. It was the guard shift change. I realized with mounting dread that the new guards hadn't forgotten the half-naked girl chained in the cell.

The heavy iron door swung open. Three guards stepped inside, their greedy eyes roaming over my exposed skin. The freezing stone floor bit into my bare back as they tore away my makeshift skirt. I fought a desperate, useless fight, kicking out with my bare feet and thrashing against the heavy iron chains, but they just laughed at my futile resistance. They descended on me like a pack of starving wolves. They pinned my legs apart and took turns forcing their thick cocks into my sore, dry vagina, gang-raping me against the freezing dirt and stone. When they finished using my body, they beat me. Their heavy boots slammed into my ribs, my stomach, and my legs. They didn't stop until my broken body could take no more. The sheer magnitude of the physical pain dragged me down into darkness.

My very last conscious thought before passing out was a desperate, fleeting hope. I prayed that the visiting king would find his mate tomorrow and somehow save us all from this waking nightmare.

When I regained consciousness, the freezing cell was silent, but my body felt like it had been run over by a freight train. The physical damage was catastrophic. I tried to shift my weight, to pull my knees up to my chest, but my legs wouldn't respond. A sickening, white-hot agony shot through my lower half. They were broken, again.

Tears streamed down my bruised cheeks. Pushing through the blinding agony, I attempted to push myself up into a seated position using my arms. As soon as I put weight on my hand, a sharp, blood-curdling scream tore from my dry throat. My wrist buckled beneath me. It was broken, too. I collapsed back onto the damp stone floor, gasping for air as black spots danced in my vision. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. I was trapped.

Then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Braddock was coming back. The heavy sound of his boots against the stone floor sent tremors through my battered spine.

I knew he was going to be more pissed off than ever when he realized I couldn't walk. If I couldn't walk, I couldn't work. And if I couldn't work, I was useless to the pack. Trembling in terror, I tried to drag my shattered body backward. I scraped my bleeding elbows against the dirt, trying to shrink back into the darkest shadows of the cell. I held my breath, trying to make myself as small and invisible as possible just as his hulking figure stepped into the cell.

He stood in the doorway, blocking my only exit. He looked down at my broken legs and my twisted wrist. Instead of anger, his lips slowly curled upward. He stared down at my crippled, bleeding body wearing the most evilest smile on his face—a sinister, twisted expression that promised unimaginable agony, a smile that would make even a grown man cringe.