The Alpha

Prologue

(Author's POV)

Everyone has a dream. Some dreams are the same, however, most are different. In Ava Schmidt's case she only ever dreamed of one thing, and that was for someone to love her. Cowering under the blanket and trying hard not to cry, she hid from those around her, not wanting to be weak, even though she knew she was. At least, that is what she has always told by the people that are supposed to love her. Strangers didn’t understand how this 9-year-old could be so grown up for her age, but they didn’t know that her family has been treating her as their slave and personal punching bag since she was four years old. She has been called every name a child could imagine, and even some things that she didn’t quite understand, but she knew one thing for certain: no one has ever told her that they loved her.

With the sound of movement in the air, Ava tried to sink as far as she could into the dingy mattress on the floor which served as her bed, wrapping the ratty quilt around her tighter. Maybe if she didn't make a sound they would go away and leave her alone.

"I know you're awake you little bitch," a slurred voice growled before her older brother, Marcus, yanked the blanket off of her and grabbed her by her hair. At 12 years old he was already very tall for his age sitting at five foot seven, as well as strong.

She cried out at the pain of being dragged out of bed by her hair, but he didn't pay any attention to her duress and instead started to walk out of the little hole they called her room, which was nothing more than a pantry in the kitchen. Stumbling along as her brother dragged her, she noticed that they were heading to the basement, which meant that he was going to beat her. For what, she didn't know, but she was sure she would find out what indiscretion she had supposedly committed.

The basement was where her family took her to punish her for whatever they felt she had done wrong. It could be as simple as breathing too loudly, and she would find herself dragged down here and beaten until she couldn't scream anymore. They always lost interest in "punishing" her once she stopped screaming, and the few times that she rebelled and refused to utter a peep when they would beat her, they found different ways to make her scream.

She tried hard to keep her balance as Marcus dragged her down the stairs and she sighed in momentary relief when he released her hair and threw her on the ground. For just a few moments it was silent before the sound of the heavy chains used to restrain her could be heard rattling together

"It's all your fault you little bitch," her brother screamed at her before she felt the biting sting of a nine-tail whip slicing through her thin cotton shirt and into her flesh. "You know the drill, start counting." he growled out.

"O-One," she gasped out and grimaced as she felt the sting of another lash. "T-Two."

When she reached one hundred, he finally stopped and walked in front of her, grabbing her by the hair again and yanking her head up so he could stare into her eyes. "Do you know why you are being punished, bitch?"

She didn't answer, unable to find her voice.

"I asked you a fucking question!" He screamed, bringing his face dangerously close to hers.

"N-n-no," she stuttered.

"You're being punished because it’s your fault that our mother died."

Her eyes grew wide with shock at what he said, not understanding how it possibly could be her fault.

"B-b-but I didn't do anything to her," she whispered, almost inaudible to those with normal hearing, but her family was different.

They were werewolves, and were able to hear anything being said, even if the person was a mile away; all they had to do was focus.

"Your existence is the reason she’s dead. No one wants you here."

Tears streamed down Ava's cheeks as she let the words her brother spoke sink in.

"You. Are. Nothing,” he continued, enunciating each word. “Your existence is a mistake. You are nothing but a blight on this family. Mom and dad should have just killed you, but they desperately wanted a daughter. So, instead we were saddled with you. You're a disgrace."

Since before Marcus could remember his parents, mainly his father, had drilled into his head that Ava was family in name only. Every time he would attempt to be nice to her, his father would take him out to the training fields and work him hard, sometimes to the point he passed out from exhaustion. Then, his father would say that she must never feel any love from them. That their job was to insure she believed no one would ever be kind to her, and that no one would care about what was being done to her. For the most part Marcus didn’t understand why, but he knew better than to disobey his father. Thus, he always did what he was told.

After a few minutes of letting his brain run wild, which inadvertently gave Ava a sense of hope that this was the end of her punishment, Marcus shook his head to clear his thoughts. He could feel his blood starting to boil again. All he had to do was think of what his father had shown him; he didn’t need his brain attempting to plant seeds of doubt.

It was her fault. She is the reason.

"Why?" she breathed out slowly still in pain from her lashing. Her voice cutting through his tormented thoughts.

With a look of disbelief that she was still trying to deny what she had done, all Marcus could do was chuckle, dropping her head and balling up his fists in the process. “You know why. You know what you did, you stupid pathetic freak,” he spat, moments before he started using her as a punching bag. The anger and resentment he felt dripped from every word he spoke.

Ava did her best not to cry out. She didn’t know what Marcus was talking about. Her only solace for what was happening was that werewolves, in addition to having extremely good hearing, were also able to heal quicker that normal, meaning the pain that she felt now wouldn’t last for long once he was finished with her.

Although she was still a young pup, the damage her family would inflict on her was always healed within 36 hours. So, while the pain was excruciating now, it would only be a few days before she’d be back to normal. When it came time for her to meet her wolf’s consciousness at the age of thirteen, she would be able to heal much faster, but she also knew that meant the beatings would get worse.

"Please," she begged. Tears streamed down her face as she cried, gasping for breath. In between gasps, her stomach threatened to revolt, not only because of the pungent smell of the basement, but also from Marcus’s scent. She wasn’t sure what it was about his scent, but it frequently made her want to vomit. The fact that one of their other abilities was a heightened sense of smell didn’t help.

"I just want to be loved," she whispered as she felt herself starting to slowly lose consciousness.

With an evil laugh, her brother continued to punch her repeatedly, and right as she felt the darkness sinking into her bones, she heard him say something worse than any of the beatings she had ever gotten.

"No one in this family will ever love you. You’re nothing but a pup that was abandoned as a baby at the orphanage, and because my parent longed for a daughter, they adopted you. Not even your biological parents wanted you. No one will ever love you."

With those final words, she slipped into the welcoming darkness, hoping that she'd never awaken.

Chapter 1

Ava

It's been eight years since that day in the basement. To this day I still don't understand what Marcus meant when he said that it was my fault that our mother, his by birth and mine through adoption, was dead. I didn't do anything. I was nine. How could it have possibly been my fault?

I've racked my brain over and over as well as attempted to find out more information about what happened to her, but I couldn't find anything. It's like her death hadn't happened. Sure, there had been a funeral and the whole pack had attended, expect for me. I wasn't allowed to leave the house. I was only allowed to go to school, the store, and to the doctor when necessary. Marcus or my father always went with me to the last two, I guess that way they could make sure I didn't say anything I shouldn't.

Tonight, I'm once again in the basement, breathing through my grit teeth as I try not to inhale the stench of my own blood. Marcus, who had recently been appointed the Beta of the pack when Drew took over his duties as the next Alpha of Lotus Grove, was whipping me because I came home late from school. I had tried to tell him I had been working on a project for one of my classes, had even gotten a note from my teacher to show I had been there, but he hadn't listened. I could only assume that his rage wasn't only because I was home late, but also because Drew's scent was likely clinging to me since he had forced me to let him take me home.

Closing my eyes, I patiently waited until he was done. When he was, I heard him walk away, and suddenly the chains that were holding me up by my wrists were released, causing me to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. As I try to gather my bearings, the door to the basement opens and my father's overwhelming scent punched me in the face, causing my stomach to churn. Crumpled on the ground, I look up and watch as my father takes slow methodical steps down the stairs. His gaze locks on me as he opens his mouth and asks, "What did she do now, Marcus?"

"She was late from school, and she smelled like Drew," Marcus spat out.

Drew had been at the school today picking something up for his mother, the former Luna of the pack, when he saw me walking home. I probably looked frantic because I hadn't realized how late it had gotten before telling my teacher I needed to leave and asking if she would write a note for me. Drew is the only person in the pack to show me any kindness that I'm frequently around. I can only assume the rest are too afraid of my father and brother to even try. So, he offered me a ride home when he saw me. I refused his offer multiple times, said he didn't need to do that since he was probably busy and needed to get back to his duties, but he kept insisting. The last time I refused his offer he frustratedly used his Alpha voice to compel me into agreeing to let him take me home.

Because of that, I now lay here in a crumpled heap on the dingy basement floor. I could feel the blood from my punishment running slowly down my back, and with all the strength I could muster, I stand up and look at my father. He has piercing blue eyes and neatly kept black hair with tinges of grey peeking through. His skin is tan and looks leathery from years of being in the sun, training with all the pack warriors. My father is the former Beta, and even though he has stepped down and the reigns have been passed on to Marcus, he is still as strong as when he was the Beta.

When my father finishes climbing down the stairs, he walks over to me and backhands me, throwing my head to the side with the force and splitting open my lip. "Why were you late from school, but more importantly, why did you smell like the Alpha?"

"I-i-i-" I stutter, trying to form a complete sentence, but find it hard. The pain from my now split lip causing me to wince.

"I-i-i-" My father mimicks. "Quit your stuttering and answer me, girl."

"I had to work on a project for class. It's worth 50% of my final grade. I didn't realize how late it had gotten. I left the school and started walking home. Alpha Andrew was leaving the school and saw me walking, so he offered me a ride home. I tried to deny his offer multiple times. He ended up compelling me to let him take me home. I didn't have a choice." I cry.

Grabbing my hair and putting his face as close as possible to mine, he spat, "You better not be lying to me girl, because if you are, what your brother just did to you will be nothing compared to what I will do."

"I got a note from my teacher before I left. It explains what needs to be done for the project and the amount of hours that need to be completed after school to get the credit."

"You got a note?" He asks me in disbelief, the hand holding onto my hair tightening. I whimper in pain as the strands start torip from my scalp. "Do you honestly believe that I would believe a note?"

"Mrs. Campbell said to call her to verify verbally if needed." I cry, desperately trying to appease him.

"Oh, I will," he replies as he lets go of my hair. "I don't want you getting into a car with the Alpha again, or anyone else, for that matter. I'll speak to him, so he knows my wishes in the future." Walking over to the sink that is on the wall next to the stairs, he starts to wash his hands. "Remember, girl, you're not allowed to have any friends. That includes the Alpha. I don't care what he says to you. Also, you're not allowed to do this so-called project for school, and when I speak with Mrs. Campbell, I'll tell her that."

"But if I don't do the project, I won't graduate."

"I don't care. You going to school is just to keep the pack from asking questions. You're nothing, and it won't matter if you graduate or not. In fact, Monday morning I'm going up to the school to withdraw you. It's time for you to know your place, and that is to be our slave." Turning away from the sink, he shakes his hands of the water droplets and eyes me up and down before heading for the stairs.

When he reaches the stairs, he stops and turns around once again to face me. "Don't just stand there, go get cleaned up and start our dinner. If it's not ready in an hour, I'll drag you back down here for another beating, and this time, I won't stop until you're dead."

I nod my understanding and then watch as Marcus follows our father upstairs with an evil smile on his face. Patiently, I wait until I hear where they are going. Hoping they would leave the house for the hour I have to get cleaned up and get dinner on the table. When I hear the front door open and then slam shut, I let out a relieved sigh before I head upstairs to take a quick shower.

When I get to the bathroom, I turn on the shower and start to strip my clothes off. I look at shirt I had been wearing and throw it in the trash can in disgust. It's ruined. Mentally preparing myself, I stepp into the shower, but still wince at the sting of the freezing cold water on my wounded back. I clean the blood and grime off my body as quickly as I can. Once I'm finished, I step out and grab a towel, gently wrapping it around my body. Turning around, I look at the damage my brother had done this time.

As I'm taking in the sight before me, I feel my wolf whimper.

"AnnaLeese, I don't know how much longer I can survive this," I say. Speaking to her with my thoughts.

With another whimper, I feel her struggle with the pain I'm in. "Your birthday is on Sunday and it's the full moon."

"No wonder father is willing to take me out-of-school Monday. I'll be 18."

"18 and finally you'll shift. Remember what we talked about."

I nod my head in acknowledgement. When AnnaLeese first came to me, she told me that, if I could hang on until I was 18, she would get me away from here once I shift, but not a moment before then.

Not wanting to get another beating, I finish drying off and go to my room to pull on some clothes. Wearing a simple plain white baggy long sleeve shirt and a pair of hand-me-down workout leggings, I walk out of my room into the kitchen and start to prepare dinner. Luckily, tonight I planned for us to have stew, so I had thrown everything in the crockpot this morning before leaving for school, setting the temperature of the crockpot to low. All I need to do now is make the cornbread. Humming to myself, I move around the kitchen, gathering the things I need. After mixing the batter for the cornbread, I pour it into a circle cake pan and place it in the oven.

While the cornbread bakes, I stir the stew to mix everything together and then cover it again until I'm ready to serve it. The smell of the stew makes my mouth water and my stomach growl. Of all the chores I'm expected to do around the house, cooking is actually one I don't mind having to take care of. It's fun, and it's the one thing I get to be creative with at home.

Sighing, I go over to the table to clear the clutter that had gathered on it during the day and sort through it. Walking over to a built-in shelf we have in the kitchen, I place the items in the bins I'd put there. There are two bins, one with my father's name and one with Marcus's.

Once I've put the items in their respective bins, I move back to the table and start to wipe it down, making sure it's clean before I put down the place mats. After I've finished setting the table, the timer for the cornbread goes off and I take the cornbread out, setting it to the side to cool before slicing into it. Turning, I grab some bowls from the cabinet behind me and start filling them with the stew. By the time I finish filling each bowl, the cornbread has cooled enough for me to slice it into quartered pieces. Taking them out of the pan, I place them on two small plates, the kind that may be used for a teacup or finger foods. Picking those two plates up, I take them over to the place setting for Marcus and my father and set them down.

Just as I place my father's bowl on the place mat in front of his seat at the table, he and my brother walk in the door. Without saying anything, I step back and bow my head, looking at my feet.

Once my father and brother are seated at the table, my father says, "Go get yourself a bowl and take it to your room. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night."

"Yes, sir."

Not wanting him to change his mind, I quickly grab the bowl I prepared for myself before they walked in, hoping tonight wouldn't be one of the nights they didn't allow me to eat. They do that sometimes whenever I've pissed them off. Taking the bowl, I open the door to my room. My room is actually supposed to be an oversized pantry, but it's what they deemed was enough space for me, the unwanted mongrel. There is just enough space for the twin size mattress, a small desk and a small wardrobe that has built-in drawers. Sitting down on the mattress, I scoot back until my back is against the wall and cross my legs holding the bowl in front of me, then I slowly eat the stew.

When I'm finished, I grab my backpack and start packing it with simple clothes that would be easy to change into once I'm on the run. I choose the items I put into the backpack with care; I don't want to make my father and brother suspicious. I carefully fold each item so that they take up as little space as possible, fitting as much into the backpack as I can.

Since I was told not to be seen again tonight, I didn't have to worry about cleaning up the kitchen until morning, which means I'm going to have to get up at least an hour earlier than normal so I'll be able to get my other morning chores done as well. I won't have to worry about leftovers though, since Marcus and my father usually have two helpings of my stew, but I was still going to have a bunch of dishes to clean up.

With a small sigh when I'm finished, I sit back down on my mattress and lean my head to the side, attempting to hear the sounds in the house. The only thing I hear is the sound of the TV in the living room, so I lean back and grab my journal that I keep between my mattress and the wall. I keep it there because it's the only place that my evil father and sadistic brother never look. When they're in the mood to search my room to make sure I'm not hiding anything from them, they always search the wardrobe and my desk, but never around my mattress. I guess they figure since I don't have a bed frame, just the mattress on the floor, that I wouldn't hide anything there.

Opening up the journal, I flip through the pages until I get to the last entry. Taking the pen out of the rings of the notebook, I write down the events that happened today. Ever since I learned how to read and write, I have kept a journal that detailed how they "punished" me; this way I could always remember what had triggered their anger, so I didn't do it again.

When I'm finished, I place the journal in my backpack along with the other things that I packed. Feeling exhausted, even though it is only seven, I set my alarm for in the morning and lay down on my stomach.

Eventually, after I'm able to get my thoughts to settle, I tell AnnaLeese good night, and drift off to sleep.