You're so fucking useless

Liyah's POV

I gasped out in pain as the hot coffee burned my skin. Sparing a few seconds to push the coffee machine back in place, I plunged my burned hand into a bowl of cold water, tears stinging my eyes.

Looking up, I faced a sneering Gavin. My chest swelled as I glared at him trying to control the anger that filled me up.

"Uh oh, my bad," Gavin laughed, grimacing with fake concern at my hand.

It was obvious that he'd pushed the container on purpose. It had happened so quickly that I hadn't been able to move out of the way on time.

I ignored him, turning quickly to make another batch of coffee. Father would soon start to roar my name if I didn't have breakfast ready in time.

Gavin moved closer to me. Too close. My hands shook as I placed out the dishes still ignoring him.

"Scared are we?" He whispered, leaning closer to me. "I thought you wanted to beat me up a few seconds ago, Liyah. What's up?"

Why couldn't he just leave me alone? I wondered, still focusing on my work. It was like a ritual; at least one person in the pack was bound to pick on me. They never missed a chance to remind me that I wasn't, and would never be one of them.

Gavin was the first son of Mario, the second in command and the Beta of the pack. Gavin and Barbara were the youngest pack members, and the ones who never let me get through one day unscathed. They found every reason to make my life harder and remind me that I wasn't a "real wolf".

As I turned off the machine at the beep, I was pulled back violently by Gavin yanking my hair. I let out a sharp groan as pain shot through my scalp.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you, bitch!" He commanded, glowering down at me.

All the initial anger I felt quickly dissipated, leaving a deep, growing fear at the anger in his eyes. I feared that he would transform and do a lot of damage. And there was no one around. Not that they would care anyway.

Trying my best to nod despite his tight hold, I did, tears spilling out my eyes.

"Good," He smiled then let me go. "Now make yourself useful," He gestured to the kitchen counter. "My pancakes should be ready in five minutes, I'm famished."

Five minutes?

I wiped the tears away from my face. "But you always have toast for breakfast," I whimpered, hoping not to anger him again.

The pack members each had their preferred meals for breakfast, and having prepared meals for years, I had learned it all by heart. That explained the array of food and aromas that wafted through the kitchen.

Gavin always had toast and eggs which I had prepared already. His new request meant that I would had to prepare another batch of pancake mix. And my hands were hurting already from being in the kitchen since morning.

He glared at me. "Are you complaining right now?"

"No!" I hurriedly cut in. "N-no, I was just wondering."

He looked me over, rolling his eyes and snatched up two out of the three waffles I had made for Barbara. Smirking, he stuffed them in his mouth and walked away.

It took all I had to not melt into a pool of tears at that moment. Barbara had been on my neck about breakfast. Sighing, I stashed the now cold toast I had made for Gavin in a Ziploc bag. Who knows when I would be allowed to have breakfast. I had lots to do.

Thinking quickly, I rushed to serve breakfast to the older members of the pack first. When I was done, I looked down at the two empty dishes for Barbara and Gavin, confused on which one to make first.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I picked the lesser evil and began to pour in a fresh batch of pancake mix.

"The Moon Goddess help me," I muttered, spreading the mix into a pan.

"What the fuck, Liyah!" I heard Barbara storm into the kitchen. I noted that she was dressed to go out in a skimpy outfit that left little to the imagination.

Fear gripping me, I turned off the stove and faced her, handing her quickest plate of waffles I had ever made.

She ignored my outstretched hand and in two quick strides reached where I stood and landed two hard slaps to my cheeks.

I swallowed back the blood that filled my mouth still holding the plate forward.

"How long does it take to make a plate of fucking waffles?" She growled, letting out a groan of irritation and wiping her hands on the bright red mini skirt she wore.

I knew she was wiping my filth off them. She wasn't the only one who thought I was a piece of trash. And she sure made it clear.

All of a sudden she grabbed my hand. This time I couldn't suppress the cry that escaped me. Her firm grasp exerted pressure on the blisters that had formed on my hand from the hot coffee. And for a moment I thought my wrist would snap from how hard she held onto it.

"You're so fucking useless. You know I need to eat before doing my makeup!"

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, feeling the blisters rupture under her grip. The tears threatened to escape. "I'm so sorry," I repeated.

Finally, she let me go, grabbing the plate from her hand and sniffing it. I relaxed. It was going to be over soon. I kept my head bowed waiting for her to leave.

Finally, with a hiss she strutted out of the kitchen, her heels clicking behind her. I bent over, hands on my knees as tried to catch my breath.

The pain prompted me to look down at my hand. It was a mess. Taking a mental note to ask Maria to help treat my hand, I refilled the sink and began to scrub the used dishes.