Chapter Four

“Hey. Wake up.”

Deathly screeching of claws against iron cages filled the massive dungeon. Every prisoner struggled to their feet. An enforcer was on the ground, therefore it was morning.

Aurora wasn’t asleep, but it was hard for her eyes to note the difference in the pitch-black cage. This was how it always was: constant darkness and the gothic stench of rotten food and dead rodents.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been here but it almost felt like an eternity. From the tiny window above her cage, she knew the sun had risen twice, since the night she was caged, and it was setting once again.

That was the only light she had and it still had heavy bars against it.

It was a funny thing. To feel like her family had been preparing her for this moment. Everything in the dungeon was familiar.

Just like the hole.

The fear. The reek. The constant abuse of the mind on your spirit and soul.

Home sweet home.

“You.”

From deep within her cage Aurora looked up, and regretted it immediately. The blinding flashlight on her face almost blinded her, she squinted painfully.

“You are the goddess choice?” The enforcer cracked up like it was the best joke he’d ever heard. “You look like shit. I can’t believe you’re supposed to be the alpha’s mate.”

His disgust made her shrink away. It renewed the deep wound in her chest. She knew what she looked like.

Just the smell that oozed from her told her she was worse than the pigs she washed at home. Her tears dried up on her cheeks, and lack of good food had formed a red bruising patch around her lips. Her full, dark hair stuck to her dirty, sweaty skin and made her skin itch.

She waited for him to throw more insults at her face like every enforcer that came before him.

“You’d expect the alpha’s mate to be —”

“She isn’t.” A tight, grave voice came from behind him. “Now get back to work.”

The enforcer froze. Then bowed apologetically and almost ran the other way. Only someone way above his rank could scare him off like that.

Aurora hugged her tiny frame deeper against the cold wall. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying all day and night. Now it hurt when she tried to see who was in front of her.

Whoever it was smelt like mud and wood. Like they spent all their time in the wild. Only the alpha’s army smelled this way.

It was how he smelt too. Musky, fresh wood, and nature’s mud. A scent that was doomed to remain in her memory for the rest of her life.

That was all she had of him. And the short, sweet moment of excitement when he held her and she foolishly felt like she was more than nothing.

Oh, she had thought of the Alpha… a lot. It was almost impossible not to. He was the reason she was going to die in here.

His rejection felt like a void in her soul, no amount of tears could fill it. Every second she reminded herself that it was her fault for being hopeful. For thinking she was like the rest of them.

Her life was meant to end in rot and misery. Didn’t Eris remind her every day?

She chuckled mockingly at herself. Maybe this was what she deserved, for being so stupid and naïve.

“What’s so funny?” The grave voice tore through her thoughts. Then slowly it came closer.

Aurora shrunk deeper into the dark and bowed. “N-nothing.”

Her sight was weak but she recognized the delta’s voice as she came closer. Her name was Skyler.

She was in charge of every prisoner in the pack and those brought in from battle. Her feisty, hard eyes that glared at her, and the way her jaw was tightly set showed Aurora why the enforcer ran scared.

Skyler was always scary to look at. So she didn’t try to.

“I know you.” Skyler declared as she got closer to her cage. “I was there when they brought you in. I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

Aurora said nothing. There was nothing she could say, or should say. The deltas were one of the most terrifying ranks in the pack. Breathe wrong and they could find subtle ways to make it your last act.

“Don’t you speak?” Skyler barked.

Aurora flinched. “I do.”

“What’s your name?”

“Aurora.”

“I had a wolf named Aurora.” There was an awkward silence. “She died.”

“S-sorry.”

What was she supposed to say or do? No one ever spoke to her. The right words or actions in a conversation weren’t something she knew.

All she was taught was obedience and the notion to beg for her survival. Insults and threats were normal. This was… strange, and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

“How do you know the alpha?”

“I don’t.”

“People find it hard to believe you didn’t plan this. They say you made him sense you. The alpha shouldn’t even breathe the same air with you.”

Aurora wanted to mention that the alpha can’t be made to do anything. Instead, she stammered. “I-I don’t know—“

“Wow. You’re a broken one.” The delta shook her head and laughed. “Can barely speak or think. Who trained you?”

“Eris.”

“That bitch. Ugh. I hate her.”

Aurora almost smiled. What? She never smiled. But the faint bubble she felt in her stomach proved otherwise.

“How long have you been here?” Skylar probed.

“Since I was brought in.”

“Hm.”

There was a long pause. Aurora counted every second.

Beads of anxiety filled her chest. Her nails dug into her palm, almost tearing flesh. It was pathetic how desperate she wanted this conversation to go on. But also she wanted the delta to leave her alone to her sufferings.

The last thing Aurora remembered before she was sold to the pack was darkness. No matter how much she tried to close her eyes, clear her clouded mind, and find the missing pieces. She never did.

It always made her feel incomplete.

Before Eris and the pack, she remembered fragile pieces of her time roaming the woods and then the slave market. Her life before that she never knew.

She never knew if she was lost, or cast away, if she had any family. Anyone at all who cared for her life… or her death.

Or had she always been alone? Right now, was there anyone looking for her? Were they close?

She didn’t think so. The pack took her as a child, probably twelve years old, and now she was a decade older.

There was no saving her. The time has passed.

“Is it true what they say?” Skyler leaned against the cage. Her weight rattled its hinges a little. “You don’t remember.”

“Yes.”

“How does that feel? If I was in your shoes, I might go crazy with not knowing.”

Aurora dropped her head, searching her thoughts for a minute. Then found the delta’s face. “It feels like a maze without an exit.”

“A prison.”

“Yes. No escape.”

“That’s a sad way to live.”

Aurora heard a slight wave of pity in her tone. It made her frown, but somehow, it comforted her as well. It felt better to get pity than hate.

“Why didn’t you ever run away?”

“To where?”

“Right. You’re an exile.”

“I’m not.” Aurora blurted.

Her hair covered half of her face so Skyler didn’t see the shock on her face. Never in her life has she spoken without thought, or out of turn.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? I know that bitch is a liar too. I remember the day you were bought. The slave masters called you ‘a broken omega.’ Because you don’t know who you are, you didn’t say a word and no one could figure out how a child survived the wild without a pack.”

“Luck.”

Skyler scoffed. “That’s no luck. Maybe you’re just meant to see your suffering till the very end. Very few omegas rise to the top. Most of them die without trying.”

Aurora knew this and had no plans to try. She would fail before she began. You see, there was one thing her past and future had in common, they were both black and empty.

“If you were an exile, the slave masters would have announced it that day. Now, you may be a thief and a cruel sibling, but not that.”

This time, Aurora kept her mouth shut. What was she supposed to say to something that felt like support but also disregard? Nothing that’s what.

She learned a long time ago that when there was nothing wise or right to say, you keep quiet. And let the moment ride itself to either its peak or doom.

At that moment she intended to be quiet and not breathe wrong. But Skyler wasn’t done. She was about to say something else.

That was when Aurora heard the rumble.

It came in ones and twos, then a hundred. The ground shook as they got closer. Angry stomps sneak up from hidden crossroads, with evil intents.

They weren’t friends.

“I’ll tell an enforcer to bri—“

“Something’s coming.” Aurora leaped to her feet. Her weak limbs almost threw her back to the floor. She could hear the drums of their feet draw closer to their soil.

Faster than lightning, she ran to the tiny window. Peering through, she saw nothing. But she could hear them.

Sniff.

She could smell them. The angry vibrations in their blood and the cold breath from their heated growls.

Enemies.

“What’s coming?”

“Many.” Aurora’s voice trembled. “An army. To kill.”

“What are you talking about?” Skyler's claws began to show. Her sharp fangs bore a glint in the light.

She couldn’t sense them yet, but her wolf could feel the danger approaching. She tried to listen. But they were far away, and all she could hear was the wind dancing against branches and roots.

Yet the slave could. How?

“Tell the alpha.” Aurora fled from the window and rocked against the cage. Her pale knuckles gripped its bars till they whitened.

“Tell him they’re here.”

Skyler froze. For the first time she looked into the omega’s hazel eyes, and all she saw was terror.

The war has begun.