Chapter Two: Lorenzo

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Chapter Two:

"Go pack your things. I'll be out here waiting." He didn't spare me another glance, turning away to talk with his Beta about some patrolling issues.

I felt so betrayed at him paying no attention to me, his mate. I couldn't be surprised however, and pushed the betrayal down. I was leaving one hell hole and going to the next. He would reject me then force me to clean and be his packs punching bag.

I nodded, my body shaking in utter fear. I went into the pack house, not knowing what to grab. I didn't own anything. Should I grab my cardboard box? It might be the only bed I have for my entire life. I went down to the cellar, wiping at my tears.

I attempted to lift the cardboard box, but it was too heavy with water damage and it was too bulky for me to hold in my rail thin arms. I sighed in defeat. I better move quickly so I don't get beaten further.

I scurried up the stairs once more hoping to have enough time to grab my clothes before I was forced to leave. I hoped I didn't run into anyone in my pack, since I disobeyed almost all of the rules Beta had given me, which no doubt came from Alpha.

I grabbed the pile of dirty clothes and ran back out of the house to the yard were now only him, his pack and my Alpha stood. I bowed my head to both Alpha's, under a harsh glare from my Alpha.

"Thank you, Greg, that is all I need from you. I will be taking my mate." The King said in a tired voice.

Alpha scurried away and into the pack house. The King looked at the pair of smelly gross clothes in my arm, "Where is all of your things? Is that all you want to bring?"

"M-My box was too heavy, sir." I spoke quietly, my head never leaving its bowed position.

"Would you like my Beta to retrieve it with you?" He asked, sounding rich even through his voice.

"Yes please, sir." I dared not look into his eyes without permission.

"Lorenzo! Go help her get her box." The King growled.

I tall, well built man strutted up to us, bowing his head to the King. "Lead the way." He told me nonchalantly.

"Yes, sir." I said, my voice almost inaudible.

I clutched my clothes tightly, leading him through the weaving intricacies of the pack house. I lead him down to the basement where all the dungeons are, making him give me a very confused look.

I kept walking however to the end of the hall where the metal door was, to the cellar I'd been living in all of my life. I opened the door, walking down the stairs for the first time ever. I was always pushed down the stairs, or thrown down them.

The light coming through the door was enough to see the rotted cardboard box I'd been sleeping in. I pointed to it weakly, "There it is, sir. I couldn't pick it up, sir."

"That is your bed?" He cried in confusion. "This is your room?"

"Yes, sir." My voice trembled.

"That is not a proper bed, this isn't a proper room. I can't bring that. It's a box. A rotting box." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not bringing that."

My heart sunk and I felt my gaze fall from any hope I had for having a bed ever again. "Okay, sorry for asking and wasting your time, sir."

He nodded, his eyes still wide with shock. We walked back upstairs, me following behind. He would occasionally look back to make sure I was following, noticing me slightly trail behind him.

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