Page 179 of Ruled By The Alpha

Ruin

by

D.E. Chapman

Chapter 1

Evelyn

The fucking world has gone to shit, and dare I say it’s only getting worse.

No matter where I look, the skyline of Whitshell is consumed with smoke and soot from the many fires the alphas have set to the slums. And there is no escape from this hellhole we live in, either. We are walled in with the bastards, and the only way in or out is guarded by the elite. We are trapped in the slums, starving to death and getting slaughtered for fun by the very beasts that swore to protect us when the world fell apart nearly fifty years ago.

Some protectors they turned out to be.

I’m just glad I wasn’t around when they first made that promise, otherwise I’d be like all those who were—broken and ruined. To hear such grand promises from the strongest of us all, the alphas, then seeing those same promises disregarded not even five years later when the killings began, would have shattered what little hope I had left. Instead, I was born in the thick of it, and afforded the hope that if I joined the right side, I’d see us poor betas and omegas liberated at last.

That’s exactly what I set out to do when I joined the rebels. I made a vow to myself, for my sisters, that the world they live in will be a better one than I’ve had to face.

They may only be seven and their designation still a couple years off, but I fear for their futures all the same. Their onlysaving grace will be if they reveal as alphas, and the chances of that happening are so slim I know there is no point relying on that outcome. But there have been miracles in the past, so who the hell knows what’s going to happen a few years from now? Maybe my sisters will move to the inner sanctions of the city long before my movements make a difference to the people in the slums.

I know I’ll never allow those girls to sell out the people living in the slums for a slightly better life in the mid zone like all the other alpha chasers who have done just that. I know what becomes of those chasers when they venture too far into the slums. I know what happens when their alphas demand too much of them and they can’t deliver.

The life of a turncoat isn’t worth it, and I refuse to allow my sisters to be lured into ruin by more false promises from the alphas in the high zone. See, we in the lowest zone have learned the hard way what happens to anyone not lucky enough to be born an alpha. Hell, even the omegas aren’t spared a grueling life and death. They are used and abused by their so-called mates, then tossed back into the slums when they don’t provide their mates with alpha heirs.

What a sick fucking world we live in.

I’d rather venture out into the desolate outside world than suffer through the injustice of life inside these walls. I’d rather face the mutated creatures roaming beyond our “safe haven.” I’d rather die out there amid the overgrown flora than be hunted by savage alphas, who’d ensure I lived through their torture for as long as possible.

The last five years I’ve spent in the rebel faction has opened my eyes to the horrors of our society. I’ve seen horrible things that I can never unsee, things that haunt me both in my nightmares and in my waking life. My hope has slowly dissipated the longer this goes on, and I don’t know how much fight I haveleft in me. I hang on for my sisters and Wes’ sakes, but even then, I’m not sure how much longer that motivation will keep me going.

I just want some TNT so I can blow through the fucking wall to freedom. Hell, maybe I’ll just stand inside the blast zone and die with the wall.

I shake the offending thoughts away and climb out of my shitty bed. Here in the slums, clean mattresses are a thing of luxury most can’t afford. And despite all the work I do for the rebels, it doesn’t pay, so I’m just as bad off as everyone else in the low zone.

Three quick knocks sound from the door, followed by another, single knock five seconds later, then another three, five seconds after that. One can’t be too careful in this part of the city, and certainly not as a rebel. My best friend—the male I secretly harbor feelings for—and I established this knock pattern back when we were kids, and it stuck.

I take a quick glance through the peephole just to be sure it’s him before opening it wide and letting Weston in.

He’s a pretty male, with his brown locks braided halfway down his back and his bright blue eyes. He has a body lean with muscles, but still soft, not as hardened as most of the betas in the slums.

If he’s not on guard all the time, he’d be taken advantage of out here. He layers his clothes so he looks bulkier than he is, and he wears a ratty old baseball cap low over his eyes to distort some of his features. The hood he tosses over it basically buries him, so he’s managed to avoid trouble for the thirty-six years he’s been alive.

He steps inside the narrow entryway and offers me a sweet smile, then passes me to plop onto the soiled, ripped sofa I inherited from my long-dead parents. He doesn’t complainwhen he sits on the hard cushions, because he knows as well as I do how rare it is for me to have the damn thing in the first place.

Fuck, this city has really gone to hell in a handbasket. Those fucking alphas and their damn greed are slowly sucking the life out of us regular people, and no matter how many strides we make, it always feels like there’s been no progress.

“Are you due in today?” Weston asks the moment I drop down next to him.

I shake my head. “Another faction moved into the mid zone last night. Reportedly, it didn’t go well.”

Wes grimaces, and I know he wants to know more, but thankfully he respects the fact that I tell him what I can. He’s not involved in the rebellion, and if I divulge sensitive information to him, I’ll put him at risk. Nothing can happen to him, and nothing can happen to my sisters. They are the only family I have, and if something were to happen to me, I know Wes would step in and care for my sisters as best as he can.

I simply can’t risk putting him in danger. I won’t do it.

“What’s the plan for the day, then?” he asks with a grin, no doubt sensing the shift in my mood and trying to distract me.

I don’t know if that’s his omega side or not, but he’s always been keyed into my emotions. It’s like he can read my mind some days.

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