Chapter 1: New Pack, New Home, New Misery

Anastasia’s POV

The chain around my wrist tightened as the Beta holding the leash pulled us closer and closer to their pack’s grand gate.

            Our new pack. Our new home of torture.

            Only the lives of the living high-ranking wolves will change. The Omegas like me? We remain the same. We’re prisoners, at the same time a new addition to the new Alpha’s collection. A pack’s material possession. Nothing more.

            The sky is not bright either,as if it mirrored our own emotions. Gray clouds hovered above us, looming. It seems to be just waiting for us to enter the Blood Dawn Pack—and then rain over us like some poor ducks drenched in watery mud.

            We’ve been chained using a single chain that connected us to one another. The Omegas have marched as one line held by a single thick chain pulled by one Beta on the front while our backs, feet, and sometimes the exposed skin between our hand and arms were whipped by some Betas as well. Blood coated the many silver-tipped ends of the whip, glinting like rubies atop silver under the cold ray of the afternoon sun.

            I saw a man ahead, smirking at me—or at us, I don’t know. He has powerfully built muscles that can send several enemies flying even in his human form, his sun-kissed skin that probably has been trailed by as many lips of women as much as their hands, and—miraculous for a man—his shiny pinkish lips that made my eyes squint.

            Too beautiful for an Alpha. Too fucking handsome.

            I gave him a wide grin. The gesture remains a mystery to me as well as why the hell did I do that. He saw me and stalked away almost immediately, as if my grin sent him back to wherever paradise he came from. Or hell, I don’t know.

“Hey, you!” A Beta holding two whips, one on each hand pointed at me, the silver tips clanking at each other. “What are you smirking at?” Then his nails lashed at me, leaving my face bloody and more corpse-looking. No blood trickled from my face, perhaps it was because I’ve lost so much blood that I no longer have more to display with.

            “You don’t get to smirk or stare or look at the Alpha like that.” And a whip cracked in the air. One strike and my body was already on the filthy ground even before I could scowl.

            A Beta was already on my side before I could draw my next breath, grabbed me with his icy grip on my upper arm as it unlocked the chain on my wrist and half-dragged me to the front.

“Look at me, Omega.” I didn’t bother looking at him even when he commanded so fiercely. I am the most stubborn Omega in the Iron Woods Pack so why shouldn’t I be stubborn here too? “Did you just hear what I said?”

“Oh pretty much every bird heard you, sweet Beta.”

A slap so hard thundered on my ears. I fall dramatically to the ground but immediately gain my footing. My palm was already on my cheeks, clutching my face.

But my smirk remained.

“That’s enough, Beta Jansen.”

I didn’t notice I was the one who held the line of blight-stricken Omegas if it wasn’t for the Alpha now in front us.

‘I thought he walked away?!’

Alpha Cain. Vicious. Cunning. Cruel.

Yes I remembered his name pretty much even before he attacked us during the Alpha’s daughter’s birthday. The Alpha’s body obviously has been left as a feast for the crows while his head is now on one of the iron spikes of the Blood Dawn Pack’s gate. Perched atop the grand entrance as if it was a mere welcoming gesture to us.

Even the two huge black wolves statues, wolves howling as they tipped their head to the sky, their eyes made of pure ruby, seem to shudder at the head now between them.

Alpha Cain gave me a small, horrible smile. The smile of many monsters. Magic sizzled in the air between us as he snapped his fingers and the chain was once again on my wrist.

I heard how magic works especially when conquering another pack: when an Alpha kills another Alpha and takes his lands and subjects for himself, the power of the dead Alpha will immediately transfer to him. Not on the dead Alpha’s son or daughter, but to the conqueror.

That’s how werewolves, especially Alphas, value strength to the point that killing one another is merely a sport to indulge into. A hobby, if one may put it.

I’m now on the front. Walking first, chin high, into our impending doom. No doubt the whip will greet me more times than I’ve been in the middle of the line.

“Put them in The City Under. I’ll be in my private residence.” Then the Alpha vanished, probably nestling back in his throne now that he has conquered another pack again.

Alpha Cain gave me one last wary glance. “Give her a greeting worthy of my name.”

My hiss was my only reply as something rock-hard and strong collided with my jaw. A punch. A punch from a Beta with a silver gauntlet on his hand crafted like a woman’s jewelry.

My blood, warm and red, gushed out from my nose. There’s blood now, and I’m surprised-but-not-so-surprised. I was thrown sideways, stunned from the pain. 

But then another brutal blow to my face awaited.

Another Beta struck on the other side of my face and shoulder.  Bones crunched—my fucking bones. How many more bones are they going to break? Can’t they see that we—I—have suffered enough from the attack yesterday?!

My legs twisted beneath me, and the Beta’s silver gauntlet grated against my cheek as it punched me again. I ricocheted away, but met with the fist of another Beta—a blonde one whose hands were caked with as much dirt and blood as my own. I didn’t glimpse his face.

From the shouts behind me, I know my fellow Omegas are being beaten as well. Another punch hit me and it was like being slugged with a brick. Crunch, crack. Bone crunch, bone crack.

            I think there were three of them, and I became their living punching bag—passed off from blow to blow from these Betas, my bones screaming in utter agony. Maybe I was screaming in agony, too. But I didn’t care.

Not when a younger Omega, probably just around fifteen, wept behind me as she was repeatedly kicked by the same three Betas that made fun of me.

Blood sprayed from my mouth, and its metallic tang coated my tongue before I could draw my next breath.

And then there was darkness.

***

My head hurt the most.

I blinked repeatedly and waited for my senses to slowly return, each pain registered in my mind one by one. Each one is more painful than the last.

My fingers twisted out of place. Dry blood coated my hair and head. There were lashes from my face, thanks to the small pool of water near me I am able to see those. I’m not just gonna look at my arm and legs since I know those are the parts the Betas probably enjoyed carving with wounds and gore the most.

The sound of dripping water first hit me, then the fading echo of heavy footsteps lingered nearby. No sky above me, only the cold damp walls.

‘Put them in The City Under. I’ll be in my private residence,’ the Alpha had said.

So this is probably The City Under, where the Omegas dwell. Where poor unfortunate souls reside.

            A bright coppery taste coated my mouth—my blood.  The tang of mold and the reek of mildew scented the damp, cold air. I don’t even know how I can see properly considering this place is foreign to light and sun. Then I looked ahead and realized there were the dancing flames of the torches.

At least they put torches.

Sharp bits of hay jabbed my cheek as I eased myself in a sitting position. ‘Yes, I am in some sort of a cell in The City Under’ I thought. ‘But they’ll be kidding me if this is my room as well.’

I glimpsed at the hay. ‘Well it’s possible that this could be my room and my cell…’

I licked my lower lip and my tongue discovered the makings of a split lip. The movement set my face on fire. Wincing, I opened my eyes, but could only manage to widen them a little—swelling. What I beheld through my undoubtedly black eyes didn’t do much to lift my spirits. 

If I have any spirit left.

            I was in a prison cell—and probably my room for the rest of my miserable fucking life. How could I have the guts to still call that I have a spirit?

I am their prisoner, their Omega. Their slave. All survivors of wars and pack attacks are, especially for Omegas like me. Especially to Omegas like me.

Sometimes I think that living is worse than dying, especially being under a new rule of an Alpha. And when you’re an Omega.

            My only sources of light were the torches beyond the door were not enough to see things. 

Well, I am below the ground. Literally. So it’s safe to assume I am also sharing a home with rats, worms, and Goddess knows what else. 

Contrary to the beautiful modern aesthetics of The City Above, The City Under seemed to originate since the medieval era that the Alphas that ruled never bothered to renovate or at least put modernity in its walls.

A heavy footstep echoed to where I am, nearer and nearer. It became mysteriously near. Panic rushed through my bones, my blood. I gritted my teeth. 

Who would visit me here? No one would. Unless its—

The footsteps stopped at the threshold of my room-prison.

I didn’t even have the nerve to flinch as the eyes of Alpha Cain surveyed me from head to toe, before striding inside.