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Their Bullied Luna
Their Bullied Luna
Author: Cara TaleSmith

Chapter 1: Rhea’s Lament

Author: Cara TaleSmith
last update Last Updated: 2024-09-11 14:03:59

Rhea

I had been awake since before the sun rose. Sleep was never something that came easy to me. I often found myself staying up later than everyone else or waking up earlier just to have a few moments of peace. To have quiet time where I could pretend like my life was normal. Or I could pretend that I wasn’t always so sad and hurting all of the time.

I sat on my window sill and watched as the world outside came to life. It was beautiful. The birds and animals outside looked free and happy. Even the flowers bloomed with bright colors and looked careless as they blew in the breeze.

I envied them greatly. More than anything I longed to be free. To have any moment feeling so careless and happy.

I finally got off the ledge when the alarm on my phone rang softly on my nightstand. I grabbed a rubber band from my dresser and threw my long hair up in a tight ponytail. I grabbed my sweater and backpack before heading out. I was going to be late if I didn’t get out to the kitchen soon. There would be hell to pay for that.

The regular interactions I encountered with the Luna and my four adoptive brothers were torture enough. I didn’t need to go making things worse for myself. I was not a glutton for punishment.

As I moved through the halls, I couldn’t believe it had almost been five years since I had been brought here. I was, of course, extremely grateful to my adoptive father, Alpha Angus, but in a lot of ways it was almost easier growing up on the streets and shifting between foster homes.

I was brought to this castle in hopes that I would join the family and be accepted here but my adoptive mother and brothers made it clear that was never going to happen. I always had bullies and tough people on the streets and in foster homes. At least there I felt more equipped to defend myself. Here… well, how could I fight back against the Luna of a pack? Much less her four sons.

Jane and Myra—the hired cooking staff—were already working in the kitchen, getting things ready and prepared. It already smelt delicious. I could see the crockpot was already started for dinner. My stomach growled.

“Good morning, ladies. How are we doing today?” I asked, grabbing my apron and tying it on. My voice was flat and low. I had no need to pretend with them. They both understood how difficult things could be in this house.

Both of them exchanged a strange look before smiling awkwardly back at me. I felt a knot build up in my stomach. “What is it?”

“The boys have requested breakfast burritos again…” Jane answered.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Creating meals for my adoptive brothers had always been the worst. They delighted in making extremely complicated orders and insisted I remake things when they weren’t quite ‘perfect’ enough.

Often I would make something and they would try to gaslight me by insisting that was not what they had ordered. Who was I to question them? Insulting my cooking was a regular and they would all question how such a ‘fat’ person could be so bad at making food. If I paid any attention to their bullying I would have several complexes about myself.

“Let me hear it,” I said with a dramatic sigh. I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes to listen. This was always the worst part. I knew Myra and Jane felt sympathetic but it didn’t help.

Myra gave me an apologetic glance and began to read off the orders from the kitchen iPad. She rambled through the ridiculous concoctions the boys came up with and I let out a scoff with a dramatic eye roll more than once. I should be used to this by now but every day they still manage to get on every nerve that I had.

“Well, they are creative, I’ll give them that,” I sneered. Both my friends chuckled as we started.

“And hot. They might be the hottest guys I’ve ever hated,” Jane teased.

We all laughed again.

Jane was correct in saying that they were attractive. All of them were stunning and could’ve been models. Which almost made it that much worse. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about each of them at some point or another. But their awful treatment toward me erased the stars as soon as they came into my mind.

We cooked and prepared until things were ready. Jane and I headed out to the living room where the boys were waiting. Zek, the eldest and most intellectual, was sitting in his usual spot reading some obnoxiously complicated textbook. Dylan was sprawled out on the loveseat reviewing texts and matches from random bimbos on the Internet.

I choke back vomit.

Lionel and Ger were arguing and cussing at each other while playing a violent and childish video game. I expected nothing less. These four boys had a knack for acting like they ruled the world.

And in some ways they did.

They were spoiled and arrogant. They were never given any ounce of responsibility, and yet someday they would be responsible for the entire pack. The thought was unsettling, to say the least.

We wordlessly placed their burritos down. I hoped to leave before any of them had a chance to comment. I had almost made it out of the room when Ger called back after me. His voice startled me and for a moment stopped me in my tracks.

“Goodness, Rhea, how many of the ingredients did you sample before filling these burritos? Or are you just stuffing shit straight into your pants now? Look at the ass jiggle!” he called out with a giggle. His brothers laughed as well, calling me “fat ass” and “bubbler butt”.

I rolled my eyes and headed to the kitchen.

I did not have a lot of experience hanging out with other girls or knowing what was considered ‘attractive’. I knew well enough to know that I couldn’t trust the boys were always telling me the truth. They delighted in making me feel terrible. But still, their comments often stuck with me and I hated that. There was always a little voice in the back of my mind wondering if I truly was fat and ugly.

I thought that’d be the end of it. I only had about 15 minutes before it was time for school. I tried to forget about what the boys had said, I tried to think about school or anything else. I sat at the little kitchen table and started eating my own food. But I was quickly interrupted as all four boys piled into the room. My breath caught in my throat.

“Hiding in the kitchen, I see?” Ger commented.

“I’m just eating breakfast. I've moved away from you… What else do you want?” I asked, trying not to sound as timid as I felt.

“We just want to make sure you remember your place, chunky girl. Our father brought you here but you’re not special. You’re not a part of the family,” Lionel snarled.

These were regular comments that I had heard continually since coming here. I stared at them blankly. Apparently, they wanted to make certain that all of their words and their insults sunk in. There was no room for confidence here.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m eating in the kitchen…” I answered dryly.

Lionel narrowed his eyes on me. “Are you sassing me?”

I swallowed hard.

“Are you sure you really need such a big breakfast? I mean, look at you. If you keep eating no one will want you,” Dylan chimed in with a wicked smirk.

“Does it really matter? Clearly, already no one wants her. Her own parents didn’t even want her,” Ger joked. They all laughed.

I frowned and tried not to let them see how hurt I really was.

Dylan grabbed my plate and threw it toward the sink. It shattered and bits of porcelain flew around the room. I sighed knowing Myra or Jane would have to clean that up when we all left. I would have to apologize to them later. Having me here seemed to be a big inconvenience for everyone. I wondered if Alpha Angus recognized that.

I doubted it.

The boys continued to laugh and make other jokes. I continued to pretend like it didn’t affect me. It was continually hard whenever they brought up my parents. I still had no idea who my parents were or why they had abandoned me. I was certain that Alpha Angus knew more than he was saying about where I came from. But I also knew he wasn’t about to share any of that with me.

The more he kept secrets the more I felt it must be something truly awful. Maybe they really didn’t love me.

“Boys, come now we’re going to be late!” Luna Simona stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “Goodness, look at this mess! Rhea, you are just impossible. Are you so incompetent that you can’t create a few simple breakfasts without making such a mess? You are so lucky that my husband took pity on you, though I still can’t imagine why. You are not even fit to be a servant in this house.” Her words were dripping with disdain.

She looked at me as she always did—like a black stain on her otherwise perfect life.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” I replied begrudgingly.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. I felt frustrated and awful. My stomach hurt and growled.

“Never mind that now, you can clean it after school. Though why we bother to educate you at all I’ll never know. It’s clearly not having an effect on you since you can’t even manage to clean the house or do your chores without making things worse or breaking things. The bus is coming, so hurry along, girl. Boys, Professor Stalling is waiting to give you your daily lessons.”

I untied my apron and headed out the door. My stomach grumbled as I moved on the way. I hoped I’d be able to get something from a vending machine before my first class.

As I passed my adoptive mother she sighed, sounding exasperated. I tried not to let it affect me and I continued walking.

I wanted to be tough. I wanted to be confident and not let their torments affect me. But the truth was I felt small all the time. I felt worthless and ugly. The more I thought about my parents and my childhood—bouncing around from place to place—the more I thought maybe the boys were right.

Maybe I was unlovable and no one would ever want me.

I tightened my jaw to keep myself from crying and headed out the door to wait for the bus. The brisk air was making it harder to keep my tears restrained. I didn’t want to start crying before I went to school. I didn’t need other students to see what a hot mess I was. I didn’t need to be tortured and tormented in school any more than I already would be.

As I stood on the corner and waited for the bus, I promised myself that I would get out of this place. I daydreamed about a beyond the Horace family, and a future free from the torture that I endured every day. I imagined finding a mate who really loved me and took care of me. Someone who would defend me against anyone who would try to bully me again.

Those thoughts almost made me feel more sad. I felt certain that I would never find such a magical person. I would never find a mate. But I would, I swore to myself, find a way to escape this torturous existence.

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