Her Slavery, His redemption

ie's

, there is really nothing I can do to save myself except help came, just for me. I know my father hates me, he has never ceased to call me a murderer for killing my mother at birth, but should he not be grateful that she left him with something of both of them and that's me? Isn't he supposed to take care of me because I am the only gift my mother left him? I am tired of asking those unanswered questions and they seemed so faint now. I have since come to accept my fate and whatever comes with it. The only time I have a little peace and temporarily get away from all this is when I go to my workplace. Being able to make dresses for different people of different shapes is what I look forward to. Yes, my father had agreed to let me work, since I had nothing else to do except school and slave away, but it was only for a few hours and I could really use all the money I could get. I will get my own work when I finally get my freedom. And Joan has been more than a good employer, she is kind and understanding. I almost hoped that everyone was like her. Or she was not from this pack, but if she wasn't, who would give me a little bit of solace to handle everything? I looked out the window from where I stood washing the almost finished plates and I saw that it was already getting really dark. I thought to myself that I needed to go back home, to a round of house chores that would be lying around waiting for me. If I don't want to receive another beating of my life for not getting things done like my stepmother always complains about. And trust me, this happens a lot of times, because where the heck do I even have the time? How do I divide myself into parts to do all the work I am given? My mind was so greatly occupied that I didn't notice that I had been joined by someone's presence, who was silently present until he was already behind me. "Oh my goodness!" I shouted, dropping the two plates I was holding mistakenly. I opened my eyes wide as I watched them scattered across the floor. The sound of the plates scattering on the floor was deafening. And at that moment, all the thought of what to do escaped my mind, but I knew this was going to be another round of maltreatment. It was the alpha's son, Max, whose house I was currently in, doing dishes. "Max," I said, managing to calm myself and bowing my head slightly as a sign of greeting. He has always made a fuss about everyone giving him the respect that he deserves, since he was undeniably going to be the next alpha of the Blue Bird pack. I truly don't care what he thinks, I never had, I was only fulfilling all righteousness, and I was more worried that someone would see us together and accuse me of flirting with their man. It would only make me prone to more danger. That's not what I need at the moment. Max Sullivan is the doted son of Alpha Erik Sullivan and Luna Anne Sullivan, he is affectionately loved by his parents and most of the girls in the pack. He is never faulty in anyone's eyes, so if anything happens, people would point at me first without even asking any questions. The girls like him, they adore him and they also shamelessly throw themselves at him every chance they get. Some, he accepts to feed on his pleasure, and dumps them after banging them. While some he just never gave a chance. Not me th