That collar is pure evil. The second you put it on, your life is in the hands of the person with the remote. With one click, it can shock you enough to put a werewolf into a coma. It is only given to omegas who are believed unworthy of being treated like the rest of society. Even criminals have it better off.
The nightmare guard, who I've named Lucifer, latches it on to me and blindfolds me again. I can't even struggle, the pain of everything is too much. Even through the blindfold, the glare of the sun hurts. I haven't seen the sun in two months. Will I last long enough to see it?
When we finally seem to arrive in the pack house, it becomes dead silent. He takes off my blindfold, and I fall at the brightness and cover my eyes. Opening my eyes, I see my pack. Can I even call these people that? Half are aghast and disgusted, and half are shocked. I don't know if they are disgusted by me or the situation. I don't give a crap anymore.
"Be very careful. One wrong move, and you know what happens. You try to escape, I won't have to do anything, the collar will," whispers Lucifer, low enough that no one can hear.
A list of jobs are thrown at me and I dutifully do every single one of them from cleaning the entire pack house to taking care of the food. Why? The collar. I need to be careful. One wrong move and I'm done. It takes me awhile, but I finish all the chores and make dinner for the two hundred people that still live in the pack house. Our pack has over a thousand members, nobody knows the exact number. It's just too many.
Suddenly, I can actually see myself in the window as the day becomes dark and I just stare. I'm so thin, I can see my bones. My body is full of awkward angles and I don't like it. My once thick, wavy blonde hair is now stringy and lays lifeless and dirty. My blue eyes seem dead.
I see movement beyond my reflection. Looking past the glass, my breath catches. It's the Alpha and the Beta. They're coming. I need to finish and leave. I rush through everything and leave the food on the table, slowly sneaking away as people enter. As I turn to run, I trip and fall.
Closing my eyes, I brace myself for impact. Don't astronauts say that? Or was it racers? But nothing comes - I don't fall?
Slowly, I open one eye. Close it. I didn't see anything...
A husky, sugar voice that I'd love to bathe in, begins to speak out of nowhere, "Mate?"
I open both eyes. My eyes connect with beautiful, forest green eyes.
My eyes widen. Alpha Playboy?