Chapter 3

CHEATERS NEVER PROSPER

My hand trembled as I lifted and tied the final knot to my dress, securing it in place having reached home and taken a bath. There was no way I could ever let anyone see me in my tattered state. But the worst of all was the imprint of a memory that, that neantherthal left. I didn't want to be fearful of men and I knew they already couldn't be trusted.

But this was much worst.

I'll be walking on egg shells my entire life. I couldn't stay here any longer.

"Doesn't that hurt? That's a nasty gnash. "

I jump, startled that someone was already awake. Trish stared at me from where she stood, eyes glued to my hand while Zara rubs her eyes just stirring awake.

"What, what's going on?"

"Leila has a wounded arm, " Trish explains moving forward to inspect it.

I had all but forgotten about it. That asshole must had torn my flesh when I tugged my hand from him. The slashes weren't deep per say, but it did hurt like f**k now thinking about it.

"Dear goodness Leila, what have you been doing?!"

"I don't wanna talk about it, " I say going over to my bed that's worn.

I need to restock the pillows and beddings with more feathers. The wood beneath the cloth was digging into my skin, making sleep annoyingly uncomfortable.

But maybe, just maybe I'll die in my sleep tonight and I'll be okay for once in this life.

"You leave that be and you're sure to end up with an infection, " Trish says going over to her jars searching for whatever concoction she might have come up with this time.

Trish works with the camp's doctor. She's tall and strong, not intimidatingly tall, because there's so much warmth in her heart that for some reason hasn't frozen over as yet. And the fact that she's like a walking teddy bear only makes them take her less serious. Whatever new medicine the doctor finds, she takes a little here to help us. It's just between us girls on this side of the bunker. No one else knows and that's how we intend to keep it.

"Come here, " She says taking a seat at the edge of my bed and I groan having to move again. "Stop being childish. You could loose the hand or worst. "

"There's worst than being stuck here?" I ask faking awe.

"Ha, ha. Laugh it up. You're the one in pain, " She taunts.

Trish lathers something green and minty against my hands that stings like a bitch and I hiss pulling my hand away.

"Mother-"

A glare my way and I pause my curse mid speech.

"Trucker. I was gonna say mother trucker. "

"Yeah right, " Zara adds. "We both know she's lying. I don't know why you bother. Leila will be Leila. "

"What the hell is that?" I ask steering the conversation away from my failure of having a lady mouth.

"It's anesthetic mixed with a healing remedy, " Trish examines my hand ensuring that the gooy substance covered the length of the scar, before wrapping a bandage around my hand. "And for the mere fact that it was burning, meant you might have gotten it infected. "

"That shit looked like toad stool, " Zara says coming over to take a look.

"Don't you have work to get to?" Trish asks shooting her an annoyed look.

Zara backs away, her hands waving in surrender. "No need to get hostile. I'm leaving. "

She waltzes to the door while I flunk back into my bed bemoaning my life. A messed up mentality and a knocked up arm. The day just couldn't get any worst could it?

"Make sure you get rest and don't hackle your arm too much, " Trish says after a time. "Change the bandage after three hours."

"Where are you going? I thought the doctor was off. " I ask turning as I watched her gather her clothes.

"Yeah, I'm working at the brewery today, " When I quirk my eyebrow she adds: "Special request. I hope we don't have anymore ceremonies for the rest of my life. But knowing these wolves, I'll never live to see that happen. "

Ain't that the truth.

An alarm stirs me from my slumber after some time I know not. I'm groggy and don't want to move, deep in haze of slumber. My body feels heavy and drowsy and all I want to do is throw a damn rock at the annoying sound that's threatening to burst my ear drums. Oh and Trish forgot to mention that the medicine would make me sleepy.

It takes eternity to haul my ass from the bed, both from demotivation to move and the fact that my limps were still asleep. The alarm had paused it's rambunctious wailing just seconds earlier, giving my ears a well required repose.

I'm probably the last one there, but I can hardly bring myself to care, rubbing my eyes and sniffling as if I've got a cold. Humans on the left, nude werewolves on the right. There's loud chatter, as everyone wonders why there's an announcement in the middle of the celebration when it's unprecedented.

Personally I think they just wanted to go back to f**king but that was just my opinion.

Alpha Blaze steps unto the small platform over looking the crowd, his agents of doom, Gamma and Beta lingering behind him. Grayson doesn't smile, but Channing does and that's never a good sign.

"There's an important announcement that Gamma Grayson has to make. I expect that you'll give him your undivided attention. "

There's commotion at the front of the werewolf stand and I roll my eyes seeing that it was that little tramp that couldn't keep herself steady.

"Settle down, " Alpha Blaze growls at them, forcing them into silence.

Gamma Grayson steps forward, his shoulders brushing the Alpha and for the first time I realize there's a slight difference in height among the two. Maybe like a head, but standing close it seems almost impossible to see, since Grayson very rarely stays in one place.

Those steely eyes of his roam the crowd as if searching before they pause and I could swear they shift darker when they land on me.

If they land on me.

What the hell am I saying?! He probably doesn't even see me. Though every part of me tingles with awareness that says otherwise.

"I know I haven't been apart of the celebration" He says, voice clear, loud and commanding. "I apologize, " Wow they did that? That's a first. But he was talking to his kin not us, so. "I hope you're all enjoying yourself, " The wolves breaks out into cheers and he raises his hand like a seasoned general, quieting the throng. "But a few things have been brought to my attention that couldn't be ignored. "

I snickered. What did he find out, that his mate was a cheating witch? Ha, ha!

"In light of this, I've decided the ceremony is off. You may continue your frolicking. "

With that he walks away without a second glance leaving the crowd speechless. Even Alpha Blaze seemed taken aback by Grayson's announcement.

What the trucker just happened?!

***

The omega's are given the duty to clean the brewery, as in all the light work, while the rest of us humans had to clean away the enormous bonfire, clean the houses, even the out ones, kitchen, attended to the life stock. Just everything we normally do and more. The wolves have gotten more cruel too. Ever since the celebration ceased it's as if things have taken a turn for the worst in the camp. Everyone's miserable and even more so us slaves. Humans, rogues whatever.

A group had gone out to patrol, security is tighter and if any wolf harbored any malice towards you, say your prayers because you're going to be apart of the drag hunt.

They found more humans today, we watch in silent pity as they haul them into the camp, a few young girls, two men. The men wouldn't stay here. They'll take them up north where they'll be apart of the hunting party or army. Either occupation was hazardous. The only time we ever really saw them was maybe after three years. When a few women might have died off. Maybe from killing themselves, to being killed or getting sick.

We call it our mating party because that's all it ever is. Just a week. Find a guy that's nice enough, you f**k hopefully get pregnant and tada, new slaves for the camp.

Such prestigious lives we were living.

It's a joke.

Then, the cycle starts all over again. They don't ever know when they'll come across more humans. There's rumors that colonies have placed tighter restrictions on their people. Thus maybe only wanders are caught, or rogues depending on if you're human or wolf . And you never know when either fraction will strike, hence numbers were imperative to survival.

I venture down the slippery stairs of the private cellar to take inventory, restock and clean. It's dark, eery and I'm convinced mold infested, but it's not like anyone would care. If I get sick either they cure me or I die.

An annoyed groan slips from my mouth seeing that half the stash bottles were missing, there's another one somewhere around here but I'm not sure I'm ready for that mental torture. Glasses shatter against the walls further down the hallways, once, twice, three times. The sound of glass hitting the wall and splintering, the angry slosh of liquid as it bursts from it's cage drawing my attention. I really didn't want to go see, but since it was my section, it was gonna be my duty to clean up, after whichever asshole did it.

A deep grumble reverbrates off the walls and my fingers tighten themselves against the broom that I've just picked up. It sounds like a monster in a cave, angry and itching to commit murder and here I am their willing victim.

When I finally breach the threshold of the doorway, attaching my torch to the hold at the side, I take a good look around immediately going immobile.

An angry gaze meets mine. Raven black hair was wild and flowing around his head and a tiny speck across his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" He barks at me, disgruntled to have an intruder at his little pity party.

Gamma Grayson was sitting in that worn armchair, shadows cast across his face with that bottle of moonshine he treasured so much in his grip.

I've never seen him so distraught, but I dare not say. Even his pack members have known better to avoid him, lest they risk his wrath.

"I'm only doing my duties"

"Duties"

His voice rings as a question, yet stating my occupation with disdain. I'm human, the scum of the pack, worst than their treasures little omega's. At least they don't box them around.

I move forward, sweeping up the shards of glass that are spilled all over the floor, keeping my eyes away from his, yet watching the dwindling liquid fade as he takes swing after swing.

Mentally I try to remember where the cellar was for all his stashes. He really shouldn't be drinking either, but it's not my place to say. Not if I want to survive here, not if I want to sleep well tonight. It was already half-past ten and he was still drinking. I genuinely hoped he didn't find anything else to smash further into the night or I'll never get a wink of sleep.

The empty bottle rolls of his hand into the table, heading to become one with the floor and I chase after it as if he's ordered me to do so. Relief overwhelms me, catching it just seconds before it crashes to the ground, bringing it close to my person as I grab the broom with hurried steps to leave.

Large fingers bury themselves into my arm and I hiss both from pain and surprise. I don't know what to do. Those steely eyes of his had barely cast me a glance, having them immersed in that traitor of a woman he had taken for a mate. All until now. I avert my gaze knowing my place. He can gaze all he wants but I can't. The only way humans survive is by burying their heads in the sands like little ostriches and fleeing when the danger has been averted.

And since I've done enough disrespecting for a lifetime, the least I can do, is know when to call it quits.

"Take it off. "

"What?!" My voice is high-pitched from alarm and confusion.

Jaw covered in days-old stubble ticks, clenching tightly as his hands pull me closer into the shadows with him.

"Take your clothes off! "

I gawked, before recoiling, attempting to pull myself away from him. No. I wouldn't let him violate me like that. And sex with a wolf.....there was no coming back from that. He wouldn't fit, he wouldn't.

"While I'm still young, " Grayson hisses at me impatiently.

"I won't be your whore! "

"But you'll be his whore?" Grayson's eyes are filled with hostility that takes me aback. The snap to his voice doesn't shock me anymore as to how bitter his words sound rolling off his tongue.

As if how dare I?!

"I'm no one's whore, "

"No, you just do whatever you feel like, " He grabs another bottle from the line, downing another swing of his liquor as he towers over me, steely eyes boring into me.

"What is your problem?" I shot back offended. Marching over to him, I did the unthinkable, things other people wouldn't even dream of doing.

I poked his chest, willing my mind to forget how sturdy he felt beneath my fingers. It's impossible to think this man was made of flesh and bone yet was as tough as a boulder.

"You're the one here that's making a mess of your life. "

"And you're the little human that just won't lift her f**king skirt! "

A step back, my fists folded. Why do I always get myself into these situations?

"Isn't that what you two were doing just two days ago when I caught you?"

His accusations sting and a part of my dignity crumbles. I couldn't expect any better. Anyone would think the same thing from my tattered state. But knowing the situation was far from the truth, didn't make it better only worst.

"Think whatever you will," I say my voice now lowered as I walk away from him grabbing my utensils. "I'm not the reason why your mate can't decide to keep her legs close. Maybe you should have paid more close attention to her than other people's business. "

I know my words hurt like salt to a wound, but that was the point. I'm a victim and a survivor and by hell, I wasn't going to let them define me by their standards. So now he and everyone else can go f**k themselves.