Chapter 2

I knew what he was going to do to me, and I felt repulsive. He was not gentle at all as he pushed me into his room and locked the door. He then started pacing; he was angry, I could feel it. But who gave him the right to be angry? If anyone should be angry now, it's me. 

He just rejected me, and yet he is angry... why? He stopped in front of me, bent down, and grabbed my hair. My scalp was on fire from all the grabbing he had done to my poor hair. He lifted my face to his and sneered at me.

"You deserved that," he told me.

I said nothing, knowing that if I spoke right now, hell would break loose. "How dare you? The moon goddess is out of her mind if she thinks I will accept the pairing – over your dead body."

I whimpered in pain, my hands clenched into fists on the floor, enduring the pain. My body was exhausted, and I felt like I might pass out anytime. As if he read my mind, Jarod slapped me across the face, jolting me wide awake. "You deserve no sleep, no rest. From today, you will do the whole pack's laundry," he instructed me, then stood up and pulled me up with him. "Strip," he commanded me.

What? He does not mean it, he wants me to strip? Why? Why? My brain screamed the question. He just rejected me; can't he just leave me alone then? 

Lost in my head, I did not see Jarod step towards me in time. I landed on the floor from his kick to my legs, my weak limbs giving way beneath me. My hand shot out to prevent my head from hitting the floor. I succeeded, but I heard a crack from my wrist – my right wrist took the impact, and the searing pain confirmed it was broken. My other hand instinctively tried to cradle it.

It was excruciating, and I couldn't bear to touch it. I could see the color changing rapidly; it turned red and purplish. Undeterred, Jarod followed up with a kick to my abdomen. "Stand up and strip!" he commanded, his Alpha tone slicing through the air.

My body shook uncontrollably, an effect of the Alpha's authority that frightened me. With no options left, I had to obey his command. Standing up proved challenging with a broken wrist. Using my good hand, I managed to rise to my feet. I commenced the arduous task of undressing. There wasn't much to remove; I wasn't wearing any undergarments, only an old pair of male pants. Untying the knot at the back proved far from easy. I had to work quickly, lest he lose his patience and tear the dress from my body. That outcome would leave me naked for days if it happened.

After I had finished, I let the dress slide off my bruised body. I could sense his gaze on me, and I wondered why he didn't seem repulsed by my appearance. I wouldn't want to cast a second glance at my own body; it was that bad.

The marks from the whippings still marred my back. My wolf, normally a source of healing, had retreated due to the constant pain and abuse. The pack doctor had once informed me, during a rare attempt at treatment, that my wolf wasn't in good health. I hadn't shifted since my first time at 18 – a shift Jarod had forbidden. I now couldn't shift without his permission. This beast held total control over my life.

With his speed, Jarod had me pinned to the bed in seconds, knocking the air out of my lungs. I whimpered in pain, and my head hit the bedpost. 

His mouth and hands were all over me. I thought I would feel irritated or disgusted by this feeling, but it wasn't so. I still craved his touch, wanting him all over me, and I hated myself for feeling this way. I should be hating him, fighting him, so what was wrong with me? Was I that weak to fight for myself?

And just like that, I had no choice but to allow Jarod to have his way with me. When he was done, he threw my dress at me and asked me to leave his room. I dressed hurriedly, struggling with my injured wrist, and ran out of his room, almost knocking down one of his guards at the door. 

I ran until I reached my room, where I curled up on the floor and wept, with no one to console me. Even Freya was not here to lend her shoulder for me to cry on. What a life!

I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light filling my room. My stomach growled in hunger, indicating that I must have slept through the night. I stood up and walked to the window, but there was nothing special to see. 

I knew the task ahead of me, and I was surprised that no one had come to wake me early to start on the laundry. I raised my now blue-colored wrist to the light and touched it; the pain wasn't as intense as it had been yesterday. With a resigned sigh, I left my room and began collecting the laundry placed at the doors of pack members. Most of them gave me dirty looks and whispered while pointing accusing fingers at me, as if I were at fault and not the victim.

Having made up my mind, perhaps hoping that Jarod had woken up with regrets about what he did yesterday, I decided to confront him, make him see sense, and give him reasons why he should accept me as his mate. I deposited the laundry in the washing area outside and headed to Jarod's room. 

He should still be inside at this time. I was too poor to own a watch, and I was terrible at guessing the time, but I was fairly certain he would still be there.

When I arrived at his door, I was surprised to see that his two guard dogs weren't stationed there. 

Perhaps luck was on my side, or maybe he was already out? My stomach growled again, but I ignored it. I smiled slightly as I pushed the door open.

At first, my eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing. My brain registered so many things all at once: one, Jarod was inside the room, on his bed; two, he wasn't alone in bed; three, I could hear someone moaning – a female; four, the red hair looked all too familiar, and the dress on the floor beside the bed also triggered recognition. 

The gasp of horror that escaped my mouth must have alerted them to my presence, as they both turned their heads to look at me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jarod cursed at me, not pulling away from Freya. I stared at my best friend, struggling to believe my eyes. Freya and Jarod? My best friend and my… my ex-mate? The betrayal felt like a stab to my chest. How could she do this to me? My vision blurred as anger and sadness clouded my gaze. And what did Freya do? She smirked at me, and I collapsed onto the floor.

I must have passed out from the shock and betrayal because the next time I opened my eyes, I wasn't in Jarod's room or even in my own. I jerked up quickly, using my bad wrist for support. I was relieved that the pain wasn't as intense anymore; it had dulled to a faint ache. I scanned the room, and my gaze settled on the figure standing in front of the window, where the sun was setting. The person turned to face me, knowing I was awake.

"Layla," his voice called softly.

My mouth opened, and I stared at Clyde in disbelief. How had I ended up in Clyde's room? The last thing I remembered was passing out in Jarod's room, while he was having sex with my best friend Freya. My eyes welled with tears, and Clyde must have seen the pained expression on my face.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded my head, but he didn't appear convinced. "I had to call the pack doctor to check on you," Clyde said. 

He was a kind Beta, and I knew I could always count on him and Freya. Yet, I tried to avoid him as much as possible. I hated the pitying looks he gave me. Freya! How could she betray me like this? I should have realized she never truly considered me a friend. Remembering the pile of laundry awaiting me, I leaped out of bed, and Clyde rushed towards me to stop me.

"Where are you going? You need to rest!" he insisted.

"No, I have work to do. Thank you," I replied hastily, rushing out of his room and the pack house. The laundry lay just as I had left it. I got to work, tears streaming down my face as I scrubbed dirt from the clothes. I wished it were as easy to wash my life clean.

The growling of my stomach served as a reminder that I was still alive, trapped in this hellish existence. I pondered if I could find something to eat in the kitchen. With that thought lingering, I focused on the laundry. I knew I could endure the hunger. This wasn't the first time I had gone without food. I was stronger than that.

When I finished, carefully avoiding mixing up the clothes, I hung them on the line. After stripping down, I made my way to the inner waters, washing the dress and then myself in the water. It was as if I could cleanse away the shame and pain, although I bitterly laughed at the futility of the attempt.

As I was about to head to the kitchen, one of Jarod's guards intercepted me. Trembling slightly, I wondered why he was here. I hadn't eaten, and I was certain that if Jarod forced me into having sex with him, I would pass out. Couldn't he just leave me alone for a day?

"Come with me," Preston, the guard, commanded. He started walking ahead, and I followed him quietly without complaint. Preston was far from one of the nicest individuals. He was cruel and brutal. 

When we reached the door, he instructed, "Enter and bow your head until told otherwise." He stationed himself as a guard again, while the other guard was absent. Without a word, I entered the room, memories of Jarod and Freya flooding back, reminding me of what had transpired the last time I had been in this room.

Silently, I entered the room, avoiding raising my gaze. Sniffing the air, I could tell that Jarod was present and not alone. "Nice of you to finally join us, Kayla," Jarod's voice rang out with a hint of a smile. I suspected his evil smirk was in place.

"Why is she here?" Freya's voice followed.

I had hoped it wasn't her, but once again, I was disappointed.

"Look up," Jarod commanded.

My head remained bowed. "I said look up, at us. Watch me as I fuck her," Jarod's anger escalated.

Slowly, I raised my head. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. I watched as Jarod engaged in intimate acts with Freya. The sight was unbearable, and though I wanted to avert my eyes, I couldn't. I'm sure Jarod knew this, too. Eventually, I turned my gaze away, and the room fell silent.