Phoebe's POV
Restlessness had consumed me since dawn. My heart hammered against my ribs with painful intensity, though I couldn't pinpoint why. The thought of seeking out a healer crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it.
Today held too much significance. Everyone scrambled to prepare for the new alpha's initiation ceremony. Omegas darted through the halls, frantically following orders from their superiors to ensure perfection.
The king's attendance only heightened the pressure—no one dared slack off.
Seeking medical attention would only invite trouble. They'd brand me lazy, another excuse to torment me further. I'd endured enough of their cruelty already.
"What are you gawking at?! Move!" Miss Kira's vicious bark cut through my thoughts. Her glare burned into me, her round face and full lips permanently twisted into a scowl. As the senior omega overseeing pack house operations, she wielded fear like a weapon.
Everyone cowered before her, but I remained her favorite target—I never fought back, never gave her the satisfaction of a reaction.
Emptiness had hollowed me out long ago. Pain no longer registered. Food turned to ash in my mouth, every meal flavorless and bland. I'd grown numb to it all.
Once, I'd tried ending the misery with a blade, but Kevin discovered me before I could bleed out. He'd chained me to his bed for weeks, ensuring I couldn't harm myself again. The helplessness of being restrained, unable to move—I'd rather die than endure that torture again.
Now I simply existed, going through the motions.
"Move!" Kira shrieked directly in my face.
Despite the ache spreading through my chest, I continued my duties. My body begged for rest after Kevin had used me until morning, but I pushed through the exhaustion.
Sleep eluded me anyway. I despised every moment spent with him, though struggling only fueled his sick pleasure. I refused to give him that satisfaction.
My luck soured when I stumbled upon Reginald tangled with an omega in one of the guest rooms I was meant to clean. Of course I'd find the most disgusting trash here.
"What are you staring at? Get out!" Reginald's savage snarl filled the room when he spotted me.
Without a word, I turned and left. My expression remained unchanged—no surprise, no emotion. My indifference clearly infuriated him.
The ceremony wouldn't begin for two hours. Plenty of time for Reginald to prepare, no need to rush.
"Where are you going?" the omega whined as Reginald pulled away, leaving her naked and wanting as he climbed from the bed.
He threw on his clothes and stormed after me, catching up just as I rounded the corridor corner.
His hand clamped around my elbow, slamming me against the wall.
"Don't you dare ignore me!" Reginald's fingers wrapped around my throat. "Such a waste you turned into a runt."
My eighteenth birthday had broken something inside me—I still couldn't shift into wolf form. Everyone assumed I'd become a runt, a shifter who couldn't shift. Bad luck personified, a rejected soul.
Now people touched their ears when they passed me, warding off my supposed curse.
Such superstitions didn't stop Kevin from taking his pleasure from me nearly every night. Nothing discouraged his twisted obsession.
"You told me to leave. I left," I stated flatly, meeting my stepbrother's rage with empty eyes.
"Don't talk back to me!"
On any other day, I might have laughed at his contradiction—demanding I acknowledge him while exploding when I spoke. But amusement had died in me long ago.
"Careful. The alpha will be pissed if you mark me," I said in the same monotone that always enraged him further.
We weren't close anymore. Reginald wanted his share of me, but Kevin was possessive of his toys. He didn't share.
Reginald could have me when Kevin grew bored, when he was finished. But a year had passed, and his infatuation remained strong.
I was supposed to be his mate. No matter how many women he bedded, he always returned to me. We weren't the same as his casual flings.
"Fuck you!" Reginald snarled, but I felt no fear. He could bark all he wanted—he wouldn't dare touch me.
Not after he nearly died six months ago when Kevin caught him trying to kiss me. Only Cameron's intervention had saved Reginald from being torn apart.
"Let me go." I pushed against him, but his grip on my throat only tightened.