The Discarded Daughter

POV Kaelia

The freezing draft slipping under the cracked wooden door always wakes me long before my alarm sounds. I pull the thin, moth-eaten blanket higher up to my chin, shivering uncontrollably as a mouse scurries across the damp, rotting floorboards mere inches from my makeshift mattress. This cramped, windowless broom cupboard is my sole world within the sprawling duskrend packhouse. My only companions during the long, lonely nights are the rodents that nest in the walls and the cockroaches that scuttle in the dark. I lie on my thin cot, staring up at the low ceiling, and brace myself for another day of agonizing reality.

Being the daughter of Alpha Thorne Redgrave is a cursed burden, not a privilege. Technically, his blood runs thick in my veins, but that powerful bloodline offers me nothing but pain. I am an illegitimate outcast, stripped of any rightful status, living as a ghost in the very home that used to be mine.

My existence shattered into sharp, jagged pieces the exact moment my father laid eyes on Luna Vivienne. For years, he had searched for his mate after a previous rejection, settling with my mother as his chosen mate. She loved him fiercely. She gave him her youth, her devotion, and she gave him me. But the moment he found Vivienne, his true fated mate, he ruthlessly discarded my mother without a single ounce of hesitation. The pack members revere the fated bond above all else, believing it to be a divine gift from the Moon Goddess. Fated mates are considered far superior to chosen mates. My father tossed my mother aside just to secure a legitimate heir with the woman the stars had supposedly chosen for him.

The profound grief of that sudden, brutal betrayal broke my mother's heart. She wasted away in sorrow, begging my father in vain to at least return to her for my sake. But he looked right through us, treating us like dirt beneath his expensive boots. Her untimely death left me orphaned within these cold, unforgiving walls. My father blamed me for her passing, his deep resentment cementing my place at the very bottom of the pack hierarchy.

Now, Vivienne’s arrogant son, Trent, is constantly paraded and celebrated as the untouchable heir. Vivienne convinced my father and the elders that Trent was the product of a previous fated bond with a mate who passed away long ago, making him the rightful successor to the Alpha title. The pack swallowed the lie without question, showering Trent with respect and privileges while I was shoved into a filthy supply closet. I accepted this cruel fate long ago, knowing that a bastard child is afforded no sunshine and rainbows, but also knowing that life as a hunted rogue outside these borders would only end in enslavement or death.

The digital clock on the dusty shelf clicks to exactly six in the morning.

My heart drops heavily into my stomach.

"Kaelia, where the hell are you?"

Vivienne’s sharp, demanding voice echoes through the grand hallways, piercing straight through my thin wooden door. She usually resides in the lavish Alpha’s bungalow nested deep in the woods, far removed from the mundane packhouse chatter, but her shrill commands always manage to find me.

Panic seizes my chest. I kick off the blanket and scramble to my feet, ignoring the sharp chill biting at my bare skin. I frantically dash out of the cupboard, my bare feet slapping against the polished hardwood floors of the main corridor. If I am late to fetch her running gear and morning refreshments, the punishments will be brutal.

"What time is it?"

Vivienne's voice snaps again, closer this time.

"It is six AM, Luna Vivienne."

I stammer loudly into the empty hall, forcing my tired legs to move faster.

"And where are my running shoes and the refreshments? How many times have I asked you to keep everything ready before I go on a jog?"

I do not dare offer an excuse. I simply rush toward the large pack gym on the ground floor. My lungs burn as I reach the heavy metal door. In my panicked haste, terrified of the consequences of making her wait another minute, I throw my weight against the handle and push the door open with far too much force.

A sickening thud echoes through the room.

The heavy metal edge of the door slams directly into a solid wall of muscle. Trent stumbles backward, clutching his nose. He had been standing right on the other side, preparing to leave the gym.

I freeze in place. Raw terror floods my veins, icy and paralyzing. I slap my hands over my mouth, staring wide-eyed at the looming, furious figure of my stepbrother.

"Trent, I am so sorry. I swear I did not see you."

I offer my desperate, frantic apologies, my voice shaking with raw fear.

Instead of accepting my excuse, he lowers his hand. There is no blood, but a dark, predatory smirk spreads across his face. He uses the opportunity to step forward, backing me into a corner aggressively.

"You did that purposely, didn’t you?"

He sneers at me with deep malice.

I shake my head, my eyes darting nervously toward the gym equipment where Vivienne’s running shoes sit waiting on a bench. I need to grab them. I need to get out of this room before his mood worsens.

"Luna Vivienne is waiting for me. Please, just let me get her things."

I try to inch sideways, keeping my back flat against the cold plastered wall.

Trent steps directly into my path, his broad shoulders blocking any chance of escape. He grabs my wrists in a crushing grip, jerking my body uncomfortably close to his. The sickening scent of his aggressive, musky cologne fills my nose, making my stomach churn with disgust.

"They say a bastard child is as good as a lowly omega. Do you know what the best quality of an omega is?"

His wicked smile deepens as he looks down at me.

I writhe in his iron grip, horrified and disgusted by the dark, sickening lust flashing in his gaze.

"Stop it. We are siblings, Trent."

I desperately remind him, trying to wrench my wrists free from his hold.

"Stepsiblings."

He corrects me immediately, his tone dripping with dark amusement.

He releases one of my wrists, his free hand snaking downward. He presses his palm flat against my stomach, his fingers purposefully moving to the waistband of my jeans. He grasps the metal button, flicking it open with a practiced ease, and grips the small metal zipper pull. He drags it downward, parting the denim to expose the skin beneath.

"Come on, you are hot. I know you like to play hard to get, but you clearly find ways to bump into me."

He taunts me, leaning in closer until his hot breath ghosts over my neck.

"What? I don’t do that! I look at you as my brother!"

I scream, sheer panic and heavy revulsion overtaking my senses.

The touch of his hand on my skin sparks a blinding surge of survival instinct. Using all my meager strength, I plant both hands flat against his solid chest and shove him forcefully away from me.

The sudden, hard push catches him off guard. Trent stumbles backward, his boots sliding wildly across the rubber gym matting. He loses his footing and crashes heavily into a towering rack of metal gym equipment. A loud, metallic clatter rings out as his skull connects directly with a thick steel bar.

He drops to one knee, clutching his head in pain. A visible purple bump quickly forms on his forehead, swelling rapidly beneath his fingers.

"You are going to pay for this, you bitch."

He lets out a low, furious growl, his eyes flashing with lethal, predatory danger.

Terrified of his wrath, I do not waste a single second. I dive past him, snatch Vivienne’s running shoes from the bench, and flee the gym as fast as my legs can carry me. My pulse hammers a chaotic rhythm against my ribs as I sprint down the long, empty hallway. Hot tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my vision. I furiously wipe them away with the back of my hand, forcing my breathing to steady. I cannot let Vivienne see me crying. I mentally prepare a lie to excuse my delay, planning to tell her I tripped over my own feet and fell. Accusing her precious son of sexual harassment would only result in a much more severe punishment for me. She would never believe a bastard orphan over her golden boy, and the beating I would receive for slandering the future Alpha would leave me bedridden.

I reach the front foyer where Vivienne is waiting. She stands by the grand double doors, glaring at me with pure venom the second I step into her line of sight.

"I am sorry for making you wait, Luna Vivienne. I tripped and fell on my way here."

I recite the fabricated excuse, keeping my head bowed low in submission.

My lie offers zero mercy.

Vivienne steps forward and aggressively snatches the running shoes right out of my trembling hands. She shoves her feet into them, her sharp gaze cutting into me like a physical blade.

"You have gotten so lazy. You do nothing but sleep and eat like a pig all day."

She snaps coldly.

I remain meekly silent, staring at the intricate patterns on the marble floor. Even as the Alpha's daughter, I am treated worse than a full-time maid.

"I am going to have a talk with Alpha Thorne about drastically cutting your expenses. There is no longer any need to fund your college tuition fees."

She coldly declares, adjusting the laces of her shoes.

A suffocating panic seizes my chest, crushing my lungs. I stop breathing.

My cheap, obscure human college is my only remaining sanctuary. While the elite Alpha children attend prestigious academies, I am enrolled in a rundown public school filled with poor human kids and orphans. It is the single place on this earth where I can hide the dark, mottled bruises on my arms beneath long sleeves. The humans know nothing about the werewolf world, about chosen mates or fated bonds. It is the only place where I am just a normal girl, where it is easy to lie about my lineage and pretend I have a normal life. I escape the relentless physical and mental torment inflicted by the pack every single day by sitting in those quiet classrooms. It is the one good thing I have left in this miserable existence. The thought of losing that freedom, of being trapped in this house twenty-four hours a day without any refuge, shatters whatever fragile composure I have left.

Desperate to protect my only escape, I immediately drop to my knees directly at her feet.

The hard marble smacks against my kneecaps, but I do not care about the pain. My tears spill freely onto the floor, dripping from my chin as I look up at her.

"No, please do not do that. Please, Luna Vivienne. I will do everything you ask. I will scrub every floor in this house. I will work day and night."

I plead with her, my voice breaking into pathetic sobs.

I hate my own agonizing vulnerability in this moment. I hate kneeling before the woman who ruined my mother’s life and stole my home. But survival demands sacrifice, and my pride died years ago. There is nowhere else for me to go.

"I will never show my face to you again if that is what you desire. Just please let me keep going to school."

I offer desperately, grasping onto the edges of her expensive athletic pants.

Her gaze hardens into sheer, icy contempt. She looks down at my kneeling, sobbing form, her eyes devoid of any empathy. She does not see a young woman begging for a sliver of peace. She only sees pathetic dirt on her pristine floor.

She pulls her leg back, breaking my desperate grip on her clothing.

"That is the best thing you’ve spoken in a long time."