Candace
"You filthy, disgusting little animal!"
Aunt Elena's black manicured nails sank into my face as she shoved me away from her, and I crashed onto the marble floor of the dressing room, pain exploding through my knees.
The acrid stench of vomit filled my nose, thick and sour, making my stomach twist harder than it already had.
"You ruined my dress, you stupid imbecile!"
I screamed when her hands found me again, her fingers digging dangerously close to the corner of my left eye.
My knees burned as I scrambled to get away from her, but her hand caught in my copper-blonde hair and yanked me back toward her feet with enough force to make my scalp sting.
"I didn't mean to," I gurgled, fighting the fresh wave of nausea crawling up my throat.
The cloying scent of her perfume had curdled my stomach the moment I entered the room, and before I could stop myself, I had vomited all over the sapphire dress she was supposed to wear for Uncle Nathan's birthday dinner.
My left eye throbbed where her nails had almost torn into it, and every blink sent a hot pulse of pain through my skull.
"What the fuck?" she demanded, shoving my head back as her eyes gleamed with disgust.
"Are you pregnant?"
"Oh no, no," I whispered, shaking my head frantically. "I'm not-"
"Oh my goddess, the cursed pig is pregnant?" Aunt Elena spat, driving her fist into my already swollen left eye.
Pain burst white behind my vision. I screamed, trying desperately to tell her that I was not pregnant, but my words dissolved into a broken cry.
She knew I was not pregnant. There was no way I could be after what had happened with my past mates, not after my entire life had fallen apart brick by brick.
Another ferocious blow slammed into my nose, and I shrieked as blood flooded my mouth. I crawled away from her quickly, my palms slipping against the marble, but her black stiletto heel found my stomach before I could get far.
She kicked me hard. The force sent me crashing into the standing mirror nearby. It toppled over with a violent crack, glass exploding across the floor and digging into my already broken skin.
"After all we've done for you, you ungrateful dog!" she screamed. "How dare you get pregnant? Do you want to pass that cursed blood to someone else and fill our pack with more filthy dogs like you?"
I tried to get up, searching blindly for the door through my blurry vision, but Aunt Elena's hand wound around my neck and tightened until my breath caught.
She dragged me over the shards of glass scattered across the floor, and I felt them slicing into my skin, felt my blood oozing and mingling with the vomit beneath me.
"I'm not… pregnant," I wheezed, writhing beneath her grip as my lungs burned.
She slapped me hard enough to send my face into the dressing table, and for one terrifying second, the whole room tilted around me.
Oh, goddess, she was going to kill me.
I coughed, my body stinging from the cuts, the blows, and the sharp bite of glass embedded in my flesh.
A groan slipped past my lips as I tried to push myself up, but a searing, unbearable heat suddenly burned into my back.
I shrieked. Agony tore through me as the smell of burnt cloth and skin filled the air. The iron I had used to straighten Aunt Elena's dress pressed into my back, and she pinned me down with it, digging it deeper as if my pain was something she wanted to carve a mark on me permanently.
"That is what you deserve," she hissed. "Stupid little worm, always disgracing the Sinclair name."
Hot, helpless tears streamed down my face as I fought with every ounce of strength my tired limbs could muster, but the last time I had eaten was two mornings ago, and my body had nothing left to give.
My life had been reduced to scraps of food, cold floors, and punishments since the night everything was taken from me.
"Oh, so you want to fight me now?" Aunt Elena taunted, lifting the iron before slamming it against the back of my head. "Is that how you will repay me, you cursed cow?"
A deep ache pulsed through my skull, and my vision blurred at the edges.
"No, please… please, Aunt Elena," I mumbled, barely recognizing my own voice.
She grabbed my tattered dress by the neckline and hauled me up before striking my face again. The blow sent me flying across the dressing room, and I crashed into a trolley full of clothes, pain ripping through my ribs as a soundless cry left my lips.
Who would I cry to for help anyway?
No one in this Pack mansion would come to my aid.
"Get your cursed ass up from there and go prepare my princess for dinner," she yelled, stripping off the dress now soiled with blood and vomit.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as my body shook with sobs I could no longer hold back.
"Miserable cow, spreading her legs everywhere," she spat, throwing the ruined dress at me before scrunching up her nose in repulsion.
She snatched a bottle of hand sanitizer from the dressing table and rubbed it over her hands as if she had touched something diseased.
"And just know that you are washing every single one of those clothes your disgusting body touched before I catch whatever disease you reek of."
I curled against the trolley, gasping through the pain radiating from the burn on my back. My skin felt too tight, my throat felt raw, and my swollen eye stung as my tears slid over the bruised flesh.
A helpless groan tore itself from me as I forced myself onto my wobbly feet. Through my bloody, blurry vision, I found the door and staggered toward it.
Every step was agony. Every brush of air against my wounds felt like tiny knives dragging over open flesh.
"And you had better clean yourself up before showing your pathetic face out there," Aunt Elena snapped. "Do you hear me?"
"Y-Yes, ma'am," I stuttered, pulling the door open and closing it gently behind me.
The moment I entered the corridor, my hand flew to the wall for support. My knees trembled beneath me, and I had to bite down on my lip to stop another sob from escaping.
How much more could I take?
The corridor of the packhouse was empty, thankfully. I let out a shaky breath and used the hem of my dress to wipe at the cuts on my arms and legs. The movement made my back scream, but I swallowed the cry threatening to tear out of me.
The collar around my neck tightened the moment I tried to reach for my wolf. It was no use.
The silver-laced collar had been around my neck for a year now, suppressing my wolf until I was almost certain there was nothing left of her. Especially after being rejected three times.
I pushed my legs forward and stumbled down the carpeted hallway toward my cousin's quarters, toward the room that used to be mine barely three years ago.
I used to be the Alpha's daughter. I used to be loved, adored, and protected by everyone in Grace Spring's Pack.
Our family had been happy once. I had still had my parents, I had still had Stephen, and I had still believed that love was something strong enough to survive anything.
Then everything crashed to pieces on that fateful night. Father was accused of allying with enemy packs, betraying his people, and trading pack members like livestock.
Several of our pack members died that night, and Grace Spring's Pack could forgive almost anything except betrayal from their Alpha.
The image of my father's head rolling off the execution stone and stopping at my feet filled my mind.
His blue eyes had stared up at me lifelessly while blood spurted from his severed neck, and my screams had done nothing to bring him back.
Mother and Stephen, my younger brother, had been brutally beaten and banished to the evil forest, while I had been left behind to suffer for sins I still did not believe my father committed.
As for me, I was accused of sinning just like him and demoted to a collared omega who had to serve the very people who used to bow their heads when I passed.
That was before I got caught in another setup, one that marred my life forever. One unforgivable sin had reduced me to the pack's mongrel. One lie had made my lovers turn into my enemies.
Candace Sinclair was a nobody now. A smelling, starving, broken nobody. After three years of being beaten, punished, starved, and tortured, I was tired.
But there was no way I would leave. This pack was my father's legacy, and they could beat me all they wanted, but I knew my father was innocent. Someone had set him up, and until I cleared my family's name from the muck they had dragged it through, I would not step a foot out of here.
As I neared the door to Deidre's quarters, moans and deep grunts reached my ears.
"Oh yes, Ryker, fuck me harder."
A deep groan boomed from behind the doors, followed by several rough sounds that made my stomach drop. They were here.My mates were with her.
My fingers trembled as I raised my hand and rapped against the door. The sound was soft, almost pathetic, and I hated that even my knock sounded afraid.
Deidre's moans grew louder, as though she knew exactly who stood outside.
"Oh… come in, Ragnor," she cried. "Come for me, faster."
My hand closed around the door handle, and I swallowed against the bitter taste of vomit still coating my tongue.