Page 1 of Her Destined Alpha
Prologue
Delsanra
SIX years ago...
“Don’t just stand there, you stupid little bitch!”
A sharp slap snapped my face to the left as my stepmother, Elinai, looked at me with resentment in her eyes, wiping her hand on her dress as if she had just touched something filthy.
“Sorry,” I replied quietly. It was the norm for me. I dropped to my knees and picked up the cloth that I had been wiping the floor with.
“Don’t speak back! You filth!” She sounded disgusted, kicking me sharply in the ribs before she walked away.
I clenched my teeth, biting back the hiss of pain, gingerly touching my ribs with my free hand. It still hurt from the last beating at the hands of my stepbrother, Dawson.
Just do your chores, stay out of sight, and it will be okay.
It was all that kept me going. My hands were purple from the cold. They felt itchy and raw thanks to the detergent in the washing water; I wasn’t allowed gloves after all. I looked at the dark grey floors as I continued scrubbing.What did I do to deserve this?I had never been a rowdy child, I’d done nothing to cause trouble, but did anyone need a reason to hurt me? No, they didn’t.
No one cared about me. Nobody loved me.
I stood up and cast a glance through the large window. It was cold and bitter outside. I could hear therain hitting the glass relentlessly. The howling of the wind penetrated through the panes and filled the large room. The large trees that moved viciously in the heavy gust seemed to be on the verge of being ripped from their roots. In the distance, looming against the darkness, was the dark, sinister castle that belonged to the Coven. The windows glowed with light, yet there was nothing welcoming about them. The Coven and its people hated me because I was born from darkness.
I shivered at the sight of the ominous castle. From the moment we moved to England from Salem, in America, five years ago, things had just gotten worse. With my father put into a high position as one of the elders in the Coven of England, he held more power, and no one would oppose his treatment of me. There were even talks that he may become a High Elder, which meant even more power. I dreaded that day, for it would surely be my end.
I pressed my hand against the windowpane. My sickly fingers were extremely bony and skeletal, lacking the vital nutrition that I needed. I looked past the castle to the moon that shone down upon us, peeping through the heavy clouds. I knew that beyond those hills were more dangers in the form of werewolves and vampires, but I didn’t care how dangerous it was out there. Anything was better than being in that house. In that place of torture… in that hell…
“Well, well… it looks like someone’s having a lot of fun wasting time.” My heart sank at the sound of my half-sister’s voice.
“Someone needs to be taught a lesson. Don’t you agree, Amoria?” Dawson asked, making my stomach twist.
I turned and looked at them. Dawson was watching me with unmasked hatred burning in his brown eyes, whilst Amoria stood there glaring at me contemptuously; her blond hair curled with precision, her blue eyes that held so much disgust and resentment as she looked down at me as if I was worse than scum. I guess for them, I was.
“I’ll get back to work,” I said quietly, turning back to the bucket.
Please not today. My entire body was covered in bruises and ached from the last beating.
“Oh? You think you have a choice?” Amoria laughed. “Urgh, look at her filthy, shitty hair.”
I didn’t look up, trying not to shake. My brown hair curtained my face; it was dull and lifeless, lacking nourishment and a wash.
Please, go away…
There was nothing I could do against them. My abilities were suppressed. I looked at the faint runes along my wrists, the shackles that cut off my powers as a witch.
I was ripped from my thoughts when Dawson yanked me back by my hair. The sudden move sent a jarring pain through my head before he threw my small body against the wall below the window. I cried out as pain shot through me.
“Oh, she wants to cause a scene,” Amoria hissed, whispering a spell. The blue haze of her power wrapped around me, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe, suffocated by the spell that enveloped my mouth and nose. I struggled against it as she laughed. “Go on, Dawson, remind her of her status.”
I tried to calm myself down, knowing that if I panicked, it wouldn’t make matters better. No matter how much I fought it… nothing got better; I felt… numb.
How long was I going to have to put up with this? I was thirteen... but I just wanted to die. My eyes stung with unshed tears as Dawson began beating me, not caring whether he kicked my face, chest, or ribs. He laughed maniacally as Amoria giggled. Her soft, melodious voice sounded poisonous. She yanked me up by my hair as Dawson delivered another brutal kick to my stomach.
From as far back as I could remember, we were taught that werewolves were our greatest enemy, that they were vile, ruthless monsters… but then... what about those monsters that hide behind handsome faces?
I tried to stop his leg from hitting my face, but my hands did nothing to stop the taller, stronger man.
Please stop!
