Avery’s POVHunger has become my constant companion. A dull, gnawing ache that never truly fades, only worsens with each passing day.At first, they rationed my meals, cutting my portions in half while I watched the others eat their fill. Then, they stopped giving me food altogether. I’m only fed when someone feels like it. A few scraps here and there. Leftover bones. Crusts of stale bread.Some nights, I get nothing at all.I lie awake in the dark, my stomach twisting in painful knots, my body too weak to move. The hunger keeps me up, an ever-present torment, but I refuse to beg. I refuse to let them see me break.But the pack isn’t satisfied with just starving me.One evening, after another long day of grueling labor, I approach the kitchen, my body screaming for nourishment. The omegas are finishing dinner service, clearing out the leftovers. I hesitate, shame burning in my chest as I force myself to speak.“Please,” I whisper, my throat dry, my voice hoarse. “Just a little.”The w
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