Shred Of Hearts [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1

TW: Attempted R*pe

Ciane

I groan and hit my alarm off with my werewolf strength trying to ignore the chores that I know await me. My eyes hardly coordinate with my entire body, begging me to go back to sleep and avoid the cold that was currently grasping onto me like a leech.

However, even I knew I couldn't do that. With little will power and determination, I pluck the duvet and rush to the bathroom.

I glare at my reflection on the cracked mirror and almost feel disappointed with what I see. I was rather slim with my shoulder length brown hair and mud brown eyes. My upper lip is thinner than my lower and a small birth mark laid on the base of my nose. The most prominent feature being the pink thick scar that runs along the side of my face, fully showing the intentions of the culprit who left it there.

It disgusts me.

I abruptly look away and strip, taking a much needed shower from all the previous chores and activities.

I had stayed up late last night, busy preparing the meals. I never get a day off like most people do. I slave and work in the kitchen with the omegas of the pack. It wasn't always this bad. It wasn't always this painful yet, I had to adapt to it or be trampled on, be beaten or work. Each time I chose the latter.

My parents, I recall, were the best and when they were with me, I didn't have to work so hard. It has been too many years since they died and the memories we shared never faded. How they cared, loved and took care of me so gently. I was so young but those were the best days of my life. None I've ever had ever again.

Shutting off the rather depressing thoughts is quite hard but necessary. The consequences of not doing so still laying too vividly in my mind.

Each morning,  I am required to wake up early and work with the rest of the omegas. I became one by default. Who would want to accept an orphan, really with no family members and zero friends.

I sigh when I find the kitchen empty. The omegas find joy in letting me suffer for they know I'll always be at the receiving end of any punishment given. It's what I've known. I loath it, hate it yet, I let the feeling remain.

Picking everything I need to make breakfast, I begin making pancakes so that maybe they can join me when I'm done or when I'm nearly done.

The alpha hated me even more for reasons I had never comprehended and I am always the one to pay and receive more punches or slaps than the rest. He had instilled pure fear within me and he knew this. He finds bliss in my cower, in the tears that trail down my frail form and cheeks. He finds ecstasy in the pain that I endure at his hands. He loves the pain I feel and I have seen genuine smiles form on his lips. I have witnessed how psychotic he really is.

He finds pleasure in my pain, a type of pain, I would not wish on anyone.

----

They didn't show for about an hour and that hour depletes my strength. When they did, I could see the smug looks being shot my way and I instantly realize their intentions.

My eyes find the loving couples displaying affection as I served their breakfast. I stare at the loving mates all cuddled up, feeding and being cute to each other. Their soulmate. The one made for them.

Mate.

A word every wolf desires and wants to hear. My parents were mates and they loved each other so much. They made me believe it too, even believe that everyone is good somehow. I used to believe it, live even by it, but as time went by I realized that people lie and enjoy other people's suffering so why would I tolerate them and think they are good.