You know that feeling when you want to punch someone in the face?
Because that's the feeling I have as I look up at the stupid alpha that's caught me sneaking an extra ration for my son, Oliver. God forbid the omegas who toiled long hours to prepare the food actually get to eat it. We'd already been pushed to the back of the line by the alphas and when we finally got to the front there was barely anything left, the plates picked clean.
But Oliver is 8 years old, he's a growing alpha. He needs to eat. I don't care if I don't. He needs all the nutrition he can get. But apparently that's a problem to this dickhead alpha that's gripping my wrist so hard that I'll bruise, demanding I take the food out of my pocket.
"Get off me.!" I snap back, trying my best to pull back from his strong hold, and he growls.
"Don't talk back, omega. I saw you,"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I deny, and I swear I can see the veins in his temples close to popping.
Then he yanks me towards him. I yelp in surprise, stumbling and dropping my and Oliver's plates. I curse, glaring up at the alpha. "What am I going to feed him now?!"
"What you got in your pocket should be enough," he leers, licking his lips as he gets a closer look at me and his eyes trail down my figure. "If you don't want me to report this to Alpha Zacan, how about we settle this somewhere more private,"
I can smell his putrid breath and it nearly makes me gag. I lean away in disgust, worriedly glancing at Oliver who watches on with wide, fearful eyes. I don't want this to escalate in front of him.
"Please, sir," I try the polite route through gritted teeth, but the man doesn't let go.
"You either come obediently or I drag you. Do you want to make a scene in front of your boy?" he sneers before groping my ass with his other hand.
Mortified, I attempt to push him away again, more forcefully, which earns me a sharp glare of annoyance. He tightens his grip and I wince as he twists my wrist to an unnatural angle. I've had worse, but it hurts like hell and I have to bite the inside of my cheek in order not to cry out.
"Stop hurting my mama!" Oliver suddenly shouts, drawing attention from onlookers. Before I can register what's happening, he pulls out a heavy-looking rock from his pants and hurls into the alpha's face.
There's a loud crunch, blood spouting from the man's face. "Fuck!" he shouts, letting go of me to clutch his probably broken nose in pain.
"What the fuck is wrong with your brat?" another alpha approaches, giving a look that could kill to Oliver and I. I hold him protectively, heart beating a million miles a minute. This can't be good. We're in big trouble.
*
"Koa. It has come to my attention that your son has injured one of my men?" Zacan asks in that cold, emotionless voice of his.
He's sitting in his grand carved oak chair, alpha guards on each side of him as if he were a king. Well, he's the Alpha of our pack, the Blood Pack, so it makes sense he feels that way. Everyone treats him like a god out of fear of what he'll do to them if they step out of line.
I'm shaking, barely able to look up. I haven't had to face him like this since that time, what feels like so long ago. I hate how scared I am, and I hate him even more. I hate him so much for what he did to me.
"It was an accident," I try to keep my voice from wavering.
"Throwing a rock in Griffin's face was an accident? I don't think so,"
Griffin can go fuck himself for all I care. That's what I really want to say, but I don't. "He's only 8–" I start to defend my child, but Oliver interrupts me.
"I was protecting my mama! That bad man was hurting him!"
As much as I adore the statement, I want to tell him to shut up. How's not the time to be all sweet. Not when our lives are at stake.
At Oliver's outburst, Zacan thick eyebrows go up in surprise before he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back so his blond hair glints in the light of the lantern on the ceiling. His laughter makes me sick. The last time I heard it—I shiver, trying not to think about it again.
"I guess I should be proud of you then, boy, for being so protective over your 'mama'," his smile is cruel as he says the words, sharp green eyes flitting to me as he says the last word.
My palms are so sweaty where they're clasped below my waist, wound tight with anxiety. He won't figure it out. He can't.
When neither me nor Oliver reply, he speaks again. "But know this, little one," he addresses my son once again, "An omega's place is below an alpha's. They don't get to go against us. Not even your mother. When Griffin wants Koa, he gets him,"
Oliver looks to me, brows knit together in confusion and fear. I've taught him that's not true, so for someone so powerful to contradict me must be hard for him. I just give him a small nod, signaling to him that it's okay. All he has to do is go along with whatever Zacan wants to say and then we can get out of here. That is, if a talking to is the only punishment we're getting.
"I'm glad to see you agree with me, Koa. It's good that you know where you stand as an omega,"
Asshole.
I bite my tongue, giving him a strained smile. It feels like it'll break my face from how much I don't want to. "Thank you, Alpha Zacan," I reply, as much as I hate his name in my mouth.
The alpha sighs, relaxing in his chair as he surveys the both of us and I hope that'll be it. But then my worst fear comes true.
"Come here, boy," he beckons Oliver with a finger. "Want a closer look at you,"
Oliver obeys, and as much as I want to reach out and stop him, I can't. No one goes against Zacan's orders. When Oliver stops in front of him, I cringe as Zacan reaches out to brush the long bangs out of his face.
"How peculiar your eyes are, boy. Same green as mine. Bright clover," Zacan remarks fondly.
My heart nearly stops. No no no no! This can't be happening!
Then he takes a lock of Oliver's wavy hair, twisting it in his finger tips. "This dark brown doesn't match your eyebrows, either. Is this your natural color?"
I curse the boiled acorn water I use to color his hair that washes out of the short strands of his blond brows no matter how thick I coat them with the substance. That's why I resorted to letting his hair grow out to cover them.
The moon goddess played a mean trick, making my son look more like his father than me. Oliver has none of my dark auburn curls, my honey eyes. My light golden-brown skin is absent too from his paler, olive tone. Even my freckles are barely present and only across his cheeks, meanwhile mine paint my shoulders, back, and knees in addition to my face. Things never really work out in my favor.
But Oliver just nods, keeping his mouth shut. There's the pride in me that I trained him well, but also the dread of what punishment may come to him if Zacan finds out he's lying.
All is quiet before a cruel smirk breaks out on Zacan's face as he looks to me, taking in my fearful expression. "See, I just don't believe that,"
I want to vomit. I feel like I'll faint. But I stay strong. No matter what this comes to, my number one priority is Oliver's safety. I'll do whatever I c—
"I'm his father, aren't I?"
My blood goes cold. "You aren't," I deny a bit too quickly, an unnatural pitch in my voice.
"The resemblance is as clear as day, Koa. You would lie to me?"
"Desmond was his father," I insist, using the falsehood I've been keeping up all these years. It was natural people would ask questions when I got pregnant while unmated, and that was the only answer I could come up with. It hurt, using the identity of someone I loved so dearly and who was gone forever, but it was the most believable. The timeline made sense. And so, I've kept it up to this day. Oliver even believes that Des was his real father. I've never told a soul the truth.
"Ah, the poor alpha boy who went on a mission and never came back," Zacan looks up to the sky, as if recalling the memories of Des. Whatever he's remembering, he doesn't seem to care even a little bit.
His indifference to the death of the best friend I ever had, my first love, stings. I want to wrap my hands around my neck and strangle him until he breathes his last breath. Curse him.
"I wish Oliver still had him," I feed into the lie.
Zacan scoffs. "You wish the boy had his father, yet you deny that I am just that. I am his father. You can't fool me, omega,"
"Y-you're wrong!" I let panic take over, clenching my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms.
Zacan just raises an eyebrow at me, indifferent. "Take the omega to my room. I'll keep the boy for awhile," he orders his men.
Immediately I'm being seized, lifted by rough hands and alphas stronger than I could ever hope to be. I scream, reaching out for Oliver, before a chemical-smelling cloth goes over my mouth and my vision goes dark.
Hello lovelies! Welcome to my second book on wattpad! Before you read on, general reminder that this book contains mature themes such as abuse, violence, and sexual content. Have fun reading!