Chapter 1

Freya's POV

If there was one thing I've learnt in the Crescent Moon pack, it was that mercy was a privilege only the powerful could afford and I was far from powerful.

I tightened my grip around the silver tray in my hands, balancing the steaming bowls of stew as I weaved through the crowded dining hall.

The scent of roasted meat and expensive ale, loud laughter and murmured chatter filled the air. Obviously, a celebration was in play but I had no clue what for. It was probably another pointless display of Alpha Daemon's arrogance.

Alpha Daemon was a name that made me sick whenever I said it.

I hated him. Hated his son. Hated every single wolf in this heaven’s forsaken pack that saw me as nothing more than a slave, a thing to be used, a discarded omega. I loathed them all.

The tray wobbled slightly when a guard bumped into me, but I steadied it before anything could spill.

“Watch where you're going, Pig!” He growled at me.

“I'm sorry, sir.” I apologized like I always did.

“Get out of my sight.” He said, brushing past me.

This wasn't the first time someone had tried to “accidentally” make me drop something. The punishment for clumsiness was always harsh and the bastards enjoyed watching me suffer.

I walked faster, ignoring the whispers and insults thrown my way. There was no point in replying to them. I was already used to them.

I reached the head table, where Alpha Daemon sat like a self-satisfied pig. His green eyes flickered to me and he smirked.

“Ah, my favourite little pet,” he leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Always so obedient when you're working.”

My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to keep my expression as blank as possible.

“Your Majesty,” I said with a low bow, placing the tray in front of him. Years of pain had taught me that reacting only encouraged him.

Next to him sat his son, Xaden. The future Alpha.

Unlike his father, Xaden was quiet but was still cruel. He never touched me like his father did, never spoke to me or laid a hand on me like his father did but his silence to it all was a choice. He had the power to stop what happens to me every single day but he never does.

“Well?” Alpha Daemon arched a brow. “Aren't you going to thank me for letting you breathe another day?”

A snarl curled in my chest, but I swallowed it down. “Thank you, Alpha,” I murmured. “Thank you for letting me breathe another day.”

“Good.” He smirked, pleased with my submission.

Good girl?

I wanted to drive a dagger through his throat. Instead, I cursed and turned on my heels before he would think of diabolical ways to torment me.

The second my feet hit the kitchen floor, I let out a shaky breath. My body shivered and my knees gave way to the floor. I slumped to the floor on my knees and sobbed quietly.

This was hell.

Being alive was as good as being dead and I preferred the latter very much.

“Freya?” A voice whispered.

I turned to see Brynn, another omega, poking her head through the wooden door. “Oh hey, Brynn.”

“You okay?” She asked, entering fully into the kitchen.

Unlike me, Brynn was born into servitude. Her parents were nothing more than breeders for the pack’s population. Since she was born, she had never known freedom but she longed for it just as much as I did.

“I'm fine.” I whispered, wiping my wet cheeks.

She darted her eyes left and right before stepping closer and crouching next to me. “Hey, I overheard something.”

Despite her quiet demeanor, Brynn had a weakness for gossip.

“What did you hear this time?” I hate gossip but hearing them was the same as getting information.

She leaned in closer. “The ongoing party was thrown to welcome Alpha Aaron from the West Kingdom Pack. I heard talk about a resistance — a group fighting to free slaves wolves like us.”

My breath hitched. “Resistance? A chance to escape?”

“Yes,” Brynn whispered. “They said Alpha Aaron is planning to wed his daughter to Xaden, but secretly, he's working with the rebels. I even hear he's —”

Before she could complete her sentence, a sharp voice interrupted us. “What are you two whispering about?!”

“Nothing, Beta.” I said quickly, lowering my gaze as we both scrambled to our feet.

We didn't need to see the owner of the voice to know who it was.  

It was clearly Beta Jasper, Alpha Daemon's second-in-command.

Without another word, he sauntered into the kitchen, beholding us with a suspicious look in his golden eyes.

“Hmm.” He spoke finally after giving the room a glance-over. I had wanted for him to leave so badly. The man didn't do anything but it was difficult for me to breathe. I wondered if Brynn felt the same effect of his presence as I did.

With both his hands clasped behind his back, he turned to look at me. “You better not cause any trouble, Freya. We all know how you love stirring up trouble.”

I forced a smile. “I wouldn't dream of stirring up trouble, sir.”

Beta Jasper’s voice twisted into a smirk before he turned and left, leaving behind the faint smell of stale tobacco and the putrid smell of his arrogance.

I exhaled, my heartbeat accelerating in my chest.

I never took into account his threats. He and everyone else in the pack didn't forget to remind her of her place everyday nor forget to threaten her. She was used to it already.

What kept ringing in her ears were Brynn's words — ‘Resistance’, ‘fighting to free slaves wolves like us’

She let out a shaky breath and smiled. “Finally, a way out.”

That night, I barely slept.

My mind raced with endless possibilities, with images of what I hadn't had in a long time — hope and freedom.

But fate was cruel.

Freedom seemed out of reach.

Blood-curdling screams jolted me awake, followed by the unmistakable smell of blood. I pushed back the covers the moment a deafening crash shook the very walls of the room.

I ran with two feelings weighing heavy in my chest — fear and a thirst for freedom.

The pack was under attack.

If I slipped away now, no one would notice.

I darted through the chaos, dodging falling debris and weapons, and bringing past clashing warriors.

My heart pounded, each step accusing me of abandoning my fellow wolves. I wanted to stop and turn back but a tiny voice at the back of my head kept telling me I was meant to run away from the chaos rather than remain with it.

Freedom was so close I could taste it.