He broke the kiss, but he didn't let go. Kaeren's hand remained clamped on my jaw, his thumb pressing into the bruise I'd earned earlier. He inclined closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
"If you ever touch me with those filthy, lying lips again," he whispered, voice a vibration that made my hair stand on end, "I will peel the skin from your bones myself. You aren't a missing mate, little Omega. You're a parasite. And I'm going to enjoy crushing you."
I froze and immediately forgot the heat from the kiss. All I felt now was an arctic chill.
Pia whimpered as his Alpha aura chilled our spine. "He knows. He knows we're a lie. Please, let's go back to the mud. The mud is safe. The mud doesn't talk about skinning us."
Kaeren pulled back and his face was back to that of indifference once more.
He looked at the elders. "You were right. This one tastes as described. Get them both out of here. We will summon the one who belongs to the crown when the council has finished their deliberations."
The dismissal was like a slap. Seraphina and I were ushered out by the guards.
The moment the oak doors clicked shut, she turned on me. Her face was red and her perfect nose was swollen.
"You think you won because he touched you? You're a placeholder, you gutter-rat. I'll make sure you pay for my face. I'll have your hands for this." She hissed, pointing a threatening finger at me.
I rolled my eyes, folding my arms. "Keep talking, Seraphina. At least I have a face to fix. You've just got a crooked ego and a surgeon on speed dial. Touch me, and I'll finish what I started."
I didn't wait for her reply. I turned and began the long trek back.
Most girls would have taken a shuttle. I had to walk. I walked past the shiny skyscrapers, past the fountains that flowed with water cleaner than anything I'd ever drank, and finally, across the rusted border into the Outer District.
"He's so dreamy," Pia sighed suddenly, her fear forgotten for a split second.
"Dreamy?" I scoffed, kicking a rusted can. "Pia, he literally threatened to skin us. He has the personality of a wet brick and the ego of a god. I don't get the hype. Oh, look at me, I have 'masculine beauty' and 'silvery hair' and I'm so broody. Give me a break. I'd rather mate with a mangy stray than spend five minutes in a room with that psychopath."
"But the kiss, Wave! It felt like fireworks!"
It felt like a death warrant, you idiot.
I was just passing the first line of shacks when a black car roared onto the dirt path, cutting me off so sharply I had to dive into the dust to avoid being crushed.
The door opened, and Seraphina stepped out. She wasn't alone. Two massive bodyguards with muscles bulging under cheap suits, stepped out behind her.
"Did you think I was joking?" she sneered, looking down at me. "Beat her. Don't touch the face—I want her parents to see exactly the cheap stake they're trying to sell."
I tried to fight. I really did. I bit, I scratched, and I even managed to kick one in the shin, but I was one exhausted Omega against two trained enforcers.
The first blow to my ribs took my breath. The second, a heavy boot to my stomach, sent me spiraling into the dirt. I looked up at the shacks. People were watching through cracked windows. Some were standing in their doorways.
They looked away. They went back to their chores. In the Outer District, you don't save people; you just try not to be the next victim.
By the time they finished, my wolf's healing was sluggish, struggling to knit my broken ribs back together.
Seraphina walked over and spat on my head. "Classless trash," she muttered before the car roared away.
I lay in the dirt for a moment, then I started to laugh. It was a twisted jagged sound that bubbled up from my throat.
"Why are we laughing?" Pia cried. "Everything hurts!"
Because life is a joke, Pia, I thought, coughing up a bit of blood. Look at us. We went to a palace and came back to the dirt. It's so ironically poetic, isn't it?
I forced myself up. I had chores. If the laundry wasn't done, Imogen would use me as a chair and if dinner wasn't ready, Drodd would use his belt.
I jogged back to our street which was a line of leaning shacks held together by spit.
Outside our door, Tasha, Imogen's second daughter, was sitting on a plastic crate painting her nails a flashy shade of pink. She looked up and cackled.
"Look at you! Did you trip on your way to the throne? You can never fit in the High Class region, Wave. You were born for the gutter. I'm the one who belongs in skyscrapers." She mocked.
"The only thing you're born for, Tasha, is being a disappointment," I barked at her, scrunching up a corner of my face.
With a scream of rage, Tasha threw her bottle of nail polish. The sticky, pink liquid splattered all over my brunette hair. I didn't even react. I just pushed past her and walked inside.
Imogen, Drodd, and their oldest son, Alex, were waiting. The air in the shack was filled with the smell of burnt grease.
SMACK.
Imogen's hand caught my bruised cheek before I could even blink. "You ruined it!" she shrieked. "The makeup took me an hour! Why do you look like a dump? Where is the crown?"
"They told us to wait for the results," I croaked.
"Did you perform well? I heard they give you twenty minutes in a private room to fuck the Prince. Did you get his heart racing?" Alex asked, sucking on his teeth.
Imogen stepped closer, demonstrating a vulgar hip-thrust. "Did you give him the Fuck-my-brains-out wolf arch I told you? The one that makes Alphas will their properties to you?"
What the…
"He didn't... we didn't do that," I said, bile rising in my throat. "It wasn't like that."
I'd rather die than engage in any such disgusting act with that asshole. However, I knew I had to give Imogen something tangible.
Hence, "But he kissed me," I whispered, the memory of Kaeren's lips flashing through my mind.
I thought that should mean something but it didn't. Drodd lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of my polish-clotted hair and yanking my head back.
"I don't trust you, Wave. You look like a loser. You failed." He turned to Imogen. "I'm taking her to the mines. She needs to see her fate if that summon doesn't come."
"No!" I begged, my eyes filling with tears. "Please, they said to wait!"
"Let her go!" A voice cracked from the corner.
It was Leah, the seventeen-year-old and last child of the house. She was the only one who didn't look at me like a paycheck.
"She said they asked her to wait! Cut it out!"
"Shut up, brat!" Imogen barked. "Take her, Drodd. Show her the holes she'll be digging if she doesn't pass."
Drodd dragged me out of the shack by my arm. I fought, I screamed, but he was a grown-up male wolf beating a girl.
…
The mines were a hellscape of soot and misery. The air was heavy with coal dust that clogged the lungs, and the sound of cracking whips and groaning machinery was constant.
It was a place where wolves went to die.
"I'm taking you to the male segment," Drodd hissed, dragging me toward a dark tunnel where the air smelled of sweat and unwashed bodies.
"So you can see what kind of manpower you'll be dealing with if you don't get us that ticket to be an Alpha's family."
No, no, no. I've heard tales of the male segment of the mines. It wasn't just any place, but a place of torture for girls considered "erring" by their parents. She-wolves have committed suicide upon realizing their fates in there.
"Please, Drodd! I'll do anything!" I sobbed.
We stopped in front of a supervisor who was a dirty, chubby man with grease-stained skin and eyes that traveled over my body like cockroaches.
"She's a bit bruised," Drodd said, his voice greasy. "But she's a healthy Omega."
The supervisor stepped closer, his hand reaching out to squeeze my thigh. I shivered as my skin crawled. "With a body like this? Even bruised, I'll pay twice the wage for her. She won't be digging much... but she'll be busy."
Drodd's eyes lit up with greed. He let go of my arm and pocketed a few crumpled bills the man handed him.
"She's all yours for the shift," Drodd said, turning his back on my screams. "Teach her what happens to girls who don't follow instructions."
I was left alone in the dark with the supervisor who stepped closer, the sound of his heavy belt buckle clinking against his gut.
I backed away until my spine hit the cold, damp rock of the mine wall.
"Waverly," Pia whispered, her voice full of a terror I'd never felt before. "The Prince. I'd rather have the Prince."