In a spiritual world, seventeen-year-old omega, Hailey Efron volunteers to take her friend's place in a lupine war to regain the respect of her pack. As she navigates the deadly battlefield, Hailey must confront her own beliefs and decide how far she's willing to go to survive. K. Li's gripping novel, "SUGAR AND SIN," is a thrilling tale of courage, survival, and rebellion that captivates readers of all ages.
Chapter 1 1
As consciousness clawed its way back, I found myself ensnared in the familiar tendrils of a nightmare.
Sprays of blood coated any and everything. The gruesomeness was matched only by the anguished cries of my kin. My brother's was particularly pronounced. It was a desperate plea urging me to escape the horrors confronting us. "Run faster, Hailey," he screamed.
When my mother's wails intertwined with his, my sprints became more frantic as I bolted through the murky depths of my subconscious.
Suddenly, I jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. Gasping for air, I blinked away the remnants of the dream. After, I scanned my surroundings: a decrepit room, cluttered with forgotten relics and shrouded in shadows that danced in the dim light filtering through cracked windows. This was my reality, a world defined by decay and neglect, where I existed as nothing more than an omega, the lowest rung in our hierarchical society.
Outside, amidst the crumbling walls of the castle, Thatcher-daughter of the gamma-tended to her roses with a fervor matched only by her disdain for me. It was a hatred born of unknown origins.
"If you were just going to be lazy and sleep on the job, why didn't you admit it so my father could have killed you long ago?" she asked.
"I was exhausted," I replied.
"I can't believe someone like you could be so foolish to abuse the kindness we've shown you. You should have be dead, but my father chose to spare you and make you his slave! Now you have the audacity to complain about exhaustion? Would you rather die?"
"I already feel foolish- choosing a life of chains over death- but I trust the gods have their reasons."
"The god's, indeed! You've ruined your perfect family with your wickedness, and you have the effrontery to call the gods? I can see you want to ruin my day, but I won't allow it."
"Whatever you say, my lady."
"The nerve... I swear I'm..." she struck me repeatedly with her watering can until I begged her forgiveness.
"Don't provoke me, you'll regret it," she snarled.
She was dead serious. Her glare was proof of it. "Perhaps you should explain why you were exhausted enough to sleep on the job. Nothing particularly strenuous happened last night, right? You yourself claimed that slaving away is all you know now. In my opinion, you should be accustomed to it at this point. So why did you sleep? It doesn't make sense."
I studied her closely. Deciding it wise to swallow my retort, I lowered my head and resumed working.
Obliged to toil under the weight of her father's decree, I labored. The demands of my duties were a constant reminder of my place in this unforgiving world.
But it was not just Thatcher's scorn that weighed heavy upon me. My fellow omegas, spurred by their own insecurities and resentments, reveled in their constant bullying. As I trudged through the castle grounds, their mocking laughter followed. It was a chorus of derision that echoed with every step.
"Cursed child!"
"She's so ugly!"
"I can't understand why we have to put up with her!"
My head hung low as the barrage of insults assailed. Soon, mud throws entered the mix, another vicious onslaught of humiliation that stained my clothes and tarnished whatever semblance of dignity I clung to.
In the face of adversity, I stood alone. It was true that I was a solitary figure in a world where alliances were forged in shadows and loyalty was a scarce commodity.
After slaving away at the castle, I trudged back to the dilapidated wreck I begrudgingly called home. The weight of the day's labor hung like a leaden shroud around my shoulders. Yet, even amidst the crushing fatigue, there was no respite from the onslaught of cruelty.
As I crossed the threshold, mocking jeers greeted my return. These were accompanied by the clatter of my meager dinner as it was callously thrown to the ground by my peers. Their accusations cut through the air like serrated blades. In their eyes, I was an outcast, unworthy of the simplest of comforts.
With practiced resignation, I stooped to gather the scattered remnants of my meal. Each grain of rice was coated in a thin film of dirt-a cruel reminder of my status within the pack. Ignoring the laughter that echoed in the cramped confines of our shared dwelling, I retreated to the solitude of my own room.
Alone in the suffocating silence, I stared at a faded photograph that hung on the cracked walls-a relic of a time long gone, a memory etched in sepia tones. In it, we were a family: my mother, my brother, and I, captured in a moment of fleeting happiness before tragedy struck with the merciless force of a thunderbolt.
Lost in the labyrinth of memories, I allowed myself to drift back to that fateful day, to the chaos and carnage that tore my world asunder. We were ambushed, caught unawares by enemies whose faces I struggle to recall.
Like a knight in shining armor, Father (he was the Beta) arrived with the pack. But salvation came at a cost-a price paid in blood and sorrow. Mother and Brother were torn from us forever.
In the aftermath of the massacre, Father's descent into madness was swift and merciless. His grief became a tempest that ravaged the fragile remnants of our shattered family. Consumed by his longing for those lost to us, he sought solace in the oblivion of hallucinogens, where he drowned his sorrows in a haze of delusion and despair.
His death followed an overdose, sealing my fate as a solitary survivor in a broken world. I was a daughter without a family, an omega without a pack.
In any event, that death was a harbinger of doom-it sparked a protracted war that sent powerful aftershocks throughout our world. In the absence of Beta, many were exposed to the onslaught of our enemies. Each day brought with it a new wave of devastation, as we watched helplessly while our ranks dwindled. To put it simply, we were decimated by the relentless tide of battle.
In the eyes of the pack, I became an embodiment of the gods' wrath-a living testament to the death that had cost them so much. Whispers of condemnation became a second skin, fueled by the belief that I was the catalyst for the cataclysm that had shattered our once-proud pack.
And so, it was decreed by the then Alpha that I be punished for my perceived transgressions. I was cast out from the ranks of the privileged and relegated to the lowest rung of our hierarchical society. Stripped of my identity, my status, and my dignity, I became an omega-a pariah condemned to wander the fringes of our community.
Seeking solace in the whispering boughs of the forest, I walked into the arms of nature. It was a small attempt to find respite from the suffocating confines of my reality. But as fate would have it, my attempt at solitude was thwarted by an unexpected encounter-a pair of mates, locked in an intimate hug in the dappled shadows of the woodland glade.
Caught off guard by their presence, I froze in place. It hit home hard that I was a silent intruder in the sanctuary of their affection.
"...maybe I want more from you. Perhaps that's more significant to me than I care to admit," I heard the man say mid-sentence. Was it my imagination, or did something flicker in the depths of his melted eyes?
"Don't be absurd. It's your straightforwardness that I find offensive. It would have been more polite for you to let the relationship progress naturally instead of speaking impulsively like a hormonal teenager and wearing your heart on your sleeve," the young woman locked in his arms retorted.
"Politeness? Excuse me for wanting to express that you mean everything to me."
"It's too soon."
Just one perfect shot. I already felt guilty for eavesdropping, but I couldn't leave without capturing one good kiss.
"You're about the most complex kind of werewolf there is," the man remarked.
"What?"
"I want to kiss you."
"Don't you think that's a bit extreme?"
"Not at all." He shook his head. His gaze was affectionate. "My heart beats for you."
Shame burned hot against my cheeks as I turned to leave.
Diving deeper into the heart of the forest, I harbored a secret longing. It was a silent need for the dawn of my eighteenth birthday. That milestone held the promise of revelation and transformation.
For on it my wolf would awaken and with it, the promise of protection and companionship from a mate.
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