Rhea's cheek burned, heat radiating where his palm had landed. Her jaw ached, the taste of blood coppery and bitter on her tongue. Slowly, she turned her head back, eyes narrowing as she met his glare.
Her pulse thudded, not from fear but from the sheer audacity of it. Did this bastard just hit me?
She lifted her hand and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her knuckles. The smear of red only sharpened her focus.
He was tall, broad, and built like someone who thought their muscles were a license to be an ass. Dark brown hair cropped close to his scalp, a scar dragging along his jawline, and eyes the color of dirty steel, cold and full of contempt.
"Did you just hit me?" she asked quietly, as if confirming it out loud. Her voice was hoarse, raw from thirst, but steady. Her cheek throbbed, her blood boiled. No one, absolutely no one, has ever laid a hand on me before… and this asshole just did.
The man blinked, startled at the sound of her speaking back. His lips curled, and his brows dropped low. "What did you just say, filth? Have you forgotten your place, bitch?"
Rhea didn't answer immediately. She just stared at him, chest rising and falling evenly, calm on the surface but with a fire sparking deep in her eyes. Then a small, humorless laugh slipped out, sharp and dangerous. "I guess I've found my test object."
Her voice rose, cutting through the empty passage. "I just got healed, you absolute pile of wolf shit. You couldn't wait five more minutes before smacking me back into the healer's bed? You donkey-faced, flea-infested excuse for a man." She spat every word like broken glass, her voice steady, each insult dripping with disgust.
The words landed hard. His expression faltered. He stared at her, stunned, as if he couldn't quite believe the wretched omega, the traitor's daughter, had just talked back. "Are you talking to me," he asked, disbelief dripping from his tone. "Like that?"
Rhea tilted her head slightly, lips curling. "You hard of hearing too? Or do you just enjoy hitting women because it makes you feel like your balls actually work? Yes, I'm talking to you like that. What are you gonna do about it?"
His face darkened, disbelief giving way to rage. He stepped forward, the air between them tightening with his anger.
Rhea shifted her stance, her body moving on instinct. She slid one foot back, bent her knees slightly, and raised her hands, palms angled and ready. Her whole body coiled with readiness. "If I were you, I wouldn't even think about stepping closer. One more inch and I'll knock your damn teeth out. Try me."
He froze mid-step, staring at her like she had grown another head. Confusion flickered across his face. What the hell is going on? Has she lost her mind? She doesn't even know how to fight. She's the weakest among us. A wolfless, rejected, traitorous omega… daring to set herself against me?
His hand twitched, rising as if to strike her again, but before he could, a sharp voice cut through the passageway behind him.
"There you are, you filth. I've been looking all over for you."
The man turned toward the sound, his posture stiffening.
Rhea lifted her chin, lowered her hands slightly, her stance easing even as her frown deepened. Under her breath, she muttered, "and who the hell is this clown supposed to be now?"
A woman stepped into view, her presence pressing down on the space with suffocating weight. She wore sleek black trousers tucked into heeled boots, a tailored leather jacket cinched at the waist with silver buckles, and a blood-red blouse that caught the dim light like a blade. Her long dark hair was pulled into a severe ponytail that only sharpened her already unforgiving features, every line of her face cut to intimidate. Her eyes, piercing green, glittered with cold disdain as they fixed on Rhea.
Flanking her were two younger girls, each a mirror of the other, dressed in cropped jackets, skintight jeans, and heavy boots that clomped against the floor with every step. Their hair, glossy and straight, swung over their shoulders in perfect unison. Identical smirks twisted their lips, the kind of smirk that promised cruelty disguised as entertainment.
"Well, well," the woman said, her voice rich with venom, dragging her gaze over Rhea as though inspecting a stain on fine silk. "Still standing, I see. Shame."
One of the girls tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she swept Rhea up and down. "I can't believe the healers actually agreed to touch you" Her voice cracked with disbelief, sharp and cutting. Everyone knew the pack's opinion of Rhea; seeing her without bruises was unnatural, almost offensive.
Rhea clenched her jaw, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Trust me, I'm as surprised as you are," she shot back, tone dry, making the man beside her blink in astonishment at her nerve.
The woman scoffed, lips curling cruelly. "Seems you've finally gone mad, and it wasn't cured by the healers. You've got nerve walking around like you're worth something. To think they'd even agree to touch you, disregarding Nikki's orders."
Nikki? That pinky Nikki? Rhea frowned. Who's the Alpha of this pack again? To think she's strutting around making things harder for me just because she thinks she'll be the Alpha's mate? That gives her the right to do whatever she wants? Dream on, Pinky. I'll bust your bubble real quick.
Click. Click. Fingers snapped in front of her face.
"Why are you zoning out while I'm talking to you?" the woman barked. "Do you think you can just..."
"Uh, you were saying?" Rhea interrupted blandly, her tone so casual it sliced deeper than shouting.
The two girls exchanged startled glances, eyebrows shooting up in unison. The woman's face hardened, a muscle twitching in her jaw, her hand flexing as though itching to strike.
The man at Rhea's side glanced between them, confusion etched across his features. But the woman waved him off with a sharp flick of her hand. "Go on, Rolf. I'll handle the trash."
He hesitated, jaw tight, but finally stepped back. He turned as if to leave, when Rhea's voice cut through, low and sharp.
"You're one lucky bastard, Rolf."