"Valerie, even though I was the one who gave you the plate of pasta, talking to an elder like that is disrespectful and will not be tolerated. Once you are done with your duties, go to the dungeon and receive ten lashes." Mike spoke with the finality of an executioner.
"Yes, alpha." I replied mechanically.
I was used to punishments that came based on the mood of the pack members.
They just needed a small excuse to vent their frustrations on me.
I never argued. And this time would be no different.
Ten lashes was nothing to me. The first time I was whipped, I was twelve years old. I had just broken a plate while washing dishes in a sink that was too high for me to reach properly.
Yet the alpha who had been walking past the kitchen heard the plate break and walked into the kitchen.
He had looked coldly at me and told me that everyone had to pay a price for every mistake they made.
And so did she. I was dragged to the dungeon and whipped so many times that I passed out from the pain.
When I woke up again, I was in the back room that didn't even have a mattress.
I had been left on the cold floor covered in bloody wounds that ached to the point of wanting to bash my head on the wall.
Yet, I had endured all that pain. Stood up and walked to the public bathroom to take a shower.
A nurse from the pack hospital had seen the wounds while she was taking a shower and advised me not to let them touch water.
She had also given me a salve she had been carrying on her and asked me to keep it a secret.
That was the first time I had experienced kindness since the death of my parents.
It was also the time I realized that I had to be careful with everything I did within the pack ground. I had learned to endure and minimize my presence so that I would suffer less.
I had gone back to the dungeon many times over the years for different kinds of punishments, yet it never failed to make me shudder.
Yet today was different.
As I walked into the dungeon, I welcomed the pain. For me, the physical pain from the lashes that day seemed to symbolize something.
I didn't make a sound until all the ten lashes were delivered then I dragged my aching body back to my damp and dark room.
As I walked past the corridor of the pack house, I saw Mike standing there as if waiting for me, but I pretended not to see him and walked past like he was invisible.
Mike's POV
I looked at the thin back of the girl, whom I now knew was my mate and felt a mixture of feelings assaulting me.
There was need, longing, and disgust.
They were all mixed to the point I couldn't tell which was which.
My heart accelerated whenever I saw her these days. It would beat at a rhythm I could not control and that annoyed me and scared me.
I hated being out of control. I hated it, especially when the presence of Valerie affected my emotions.
I had found out a week ago that she was my mate. That was the actual day I turned eighteen years old. My official birthday, which was a few days later, was just a formal event.
But not many knew about this.
When I passed by her washing clothes for the pack members in the laundry room, I was hit by the most wonderful scent I have ever smelled in my life.
It was sweeter than the famed vanilla and honey. It was inviting and had caused me to walk into the laundry room for the first time.
Valerie had been on her knees, scrubbing clothes that were covered in car grease.
I could immediately tell that they belonged to the gamma's son, Andrew.
He was a car enthusiast and loved disassembling and reassembling the parts for fun.
In the process, he would get himself dirty with grease and he never allowed his clothes to be washed in the machine, saying it would ruin them.
So, for as long as I could remember, he always got Valerie to wash them by hand.
I remember one winter when he had come back covered in grease and blood after encountering some rogues on the way home.
It was so cold that snow was almost a meter high, the reason he had to walk home. Yet, he had forced Valerie to wash those clothes and make sure that all the grease and blood were scrubbed off.
Of course, at the time I had stood to the side and even went to get my dirty clothes for the pack slave to wash.
She scrubbed the clothes on that cold and chilly day until they shone like they were new, but at that time, her hands were frostbitten and bleeding.
She had begged to be allowed to rest and heal, but my father had insisted on her finishing her other duties.
I felt nothing at all that time. Well, except for disgust. How dare the daughter of a traitor who caused the deaths of so many people beg for mercy.
In fact, I was so annoyed when she kept begging that I gave her a beating. I had cracked a couple of her ribs at that time.
As I watched Valerie wash the greasy clothes in the laundry room, I was pulled back from my memories.
Her scent nearly overpowering my reason. I had the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her, but I couldn't.
The very sight of her looking like a stick with no shape or beauty disgusted me. I began questioning the ability of the moon goddess.
How could she pair me with such a weakling? How could she think that a slave deserved to be my mate?
I decided at that moment that I would never let anyone know about the mate bond. I could pretend that it didn't exist.