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The Alpha's Abused Mate.

The Alpha's Abused Mate.

Philipa__

5.0
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"Have you heard about me?" he asked me. His voice was cold. There was something about it. His voice sent chills through me like it would to someone who got ice poured on them. I nodded "Yes Alpha" "Do you want love?" I didn't respond. What do I say to that? "Answer me" he growled. I slowly nodded. He laughed dryly. 'The rumours you heard about me are true so you can throw any thought of love out the window. You're mine now and there's nothing you can do about it. This means I will treat you as I see fit. Is that understood?" Rose Wilson is an omega in the pack. She's maltreated, neglected and bullied, both at home and at school. She dreams of a mate who would take her pain away. That is, until she finally meets her mate: Alpha Kyle. Alpha Kyle is cruel and cold. He has no intentions of loving Rose. Rose's world crumbles even more as they cross paths. Find out what happens in this paranormal dark romance.

Chapter 1 An Introduction

Peace, silence, and darkness.

That's what sleep is supposed to bring, right? It's supposed to be a temporary escape from reality. But for me, there's no such thing. Peace has long been a stranger in my life. Whenever things seem calm, it only makes me anxious and waiting for the next storm.

I've made my peace with it-or at least I've tried. This is my reality, and there's nothing I can do to change it. My father is a pack warrior, but I'm not the proud daughter of a warrior. No, I'm the product of his affair with a maid-my mother. That makes me an omega, the lowest rank in the pack, an abomination in the eyes of many.

My mother died not long after giving birth to me, leaving me in the care of a father who never really wanted me. He let me stay, despite his wife's protests. But I'm a constant reminder of his betrayal. I'm a living scar on their marriage. So, I can't really blame my stepmother or others for hating me. Every time she looks at me, she sees her husband's infidelity.

They let me live with them, sure, but there was no kindness in their charity. I'm not a daughter; I'm a servant. My stepmother never misses an opportunity to remind me how lucky I am to have a roof over my head. According to her, my mother was a maid, so it's only fair that I take over her duties now that I'm old enough.

I don't complain. I can't. Life has hardened me. I've faced so much that there's little left that can truly break me. Or so I thought.

I felt a cold sensation on my body. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that it was cold water. I sat up in bed, drenched. Blinking the water out of my eyes, I saw one of the female pack warriors standing there with an empty bucket in her hand.

"That's what you get," she sneered. "I've been calling you for minutes. Get up and do your damn job."

"I'm sorry" I whimpered "I'll be there soon"

She glared at me before turning away and leaving the room.

My heart rate increased in my chest. I shivered, feeling cold from the water and the hatred in her words. I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. After a quick bath, I got dressed in blue skinny jeans and a black sweatshirt-clothes that would hide the bruises from yesterday's beating. I didn't need the teachers at school asking questions. Not that they cared, really, but I didn't want the extra attention.

I left my room and headed downstairs. When I got down, I felt the tension in the air. My father, stepmother, and stepsister; Raquelle were already seated at the dining table.

"Good morning," I murmured, bowing my head in greeting.

"You're late," my stepmother, Janet, snapped.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again," I replied quickly,

"It better not," she muttered, dismissing me with a wave of her hand.

I hurried into the kitchen, deciding on pasta since it was quick and wouldn't make them wait any longer than they already had. When I was done cooking, I served their plates.

I stood in the corner, watching them eat, waiting for the moment they'd be done so I could clean up. That's how it was in this house-I was a ghost, only noticed when I wasn't doing something right.

Finally, they finished, and I began gathering the plates and taking them to the kitchen. My stomach rumbled with every move I made. I took the pot of leftover pasta and grabbed a spoon, hoping to get at least some food. But just as I was about to take a bite, a sharp smack sent the spoon and the pot clattering to the floor.

I looked up to see Raquelle. Her smirk widened as she watched the food spill across the tiles.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, tilting her head.

"I-I was hungry," I stammered.

"So?"

Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away. It wasn't the first time she'd treated me like this, and it wouldn't be the last. But it still hurt, knowing that someone could hate you so deeply without reason, just because they could.

"Aww, are you going to cry again?" Raquelle cooed "How pathetic."

"What's going on here?" Janet's voice sounded.

She stepped into the kitchen. Her gaze landed on the mess on the floor before turning to me.

"Nothing," Raquelle said "Rose was just being clumsy."

Janet narrowed her eyes at me "I can see that."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"As always," Raquelle muttered with a roll of her eyes.

Janet sighed "Anyway, I have something to tell you both."

Raquelle groaned in annoyance. "I'm already late for school."

"This won't take long," Janet said. "Alpha Kyle is coming over for dinner tonight."

Raquelle's eyes widened in shock. "Alpha Kyle? He's back? I thought he was at war!"

"He is back," Janet confirmed "And he's honoring us with a visit. He wants to personally thank your father for keeping the pack at peace while he was away."

Raquelle practically squealed with excitement "I need to plan what to wear!"

With that, she rushed out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with Janet. I turned back to the sink, focusing on the dishes.

"Rose," Janet called.

"Yes, ma'am?" I replied, turning to face her.

"Don't mess this up," she warned.

I nodded slowly, turning back to the sink.

I hoped with everything inside me that tonight went well.

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