1: Ugly cow
SOMA
No one is coming to save me.
My name is Soma, and I’m an omega at the bottom of the werewolf food chain. In Shadowspire pack, pet dogs have more rights than I do. I guess that’s what happens when the Moon Goddess slaps you with a weak wolf you can’t shift into and a body that falls sick every full moon.
As if that’s not horrible enough, I’m an orphan, cursed to live like gum on a shoe with my aunt, Helen, and cousins, Sheila and Maeve. Given how badly they treat me, I’m better off living on my own. Or maybe dead.
If I had money saved up, I would run off in the middle of the night to a human town and live out the rest of my days far away from this hellhole I had grown up in.
But I’m not that lucky.
Instead, I’m stuck in this house, scrubbing floors and battling headaches whenever my cousins return from their shopping trips or quit bickering about which of the three Alpha princes is the most handsome.
Today is no different.
With the Luna selection ceremony fast approaching, Sheila and Maeve have been shopping incessantly, arguing over shoes and dresses. Their mother has spent all summer on their training, teaching them princess etiquette. Based on the rumors, one of them might be selected by the Moon Goddess and mated to the crown Alpha prince of Shadowspire pack.
Brynne Rybak.
As if my cousins aren’t already insufferable enough. Granting them such immense power would mean my utter demise.
“Soma,” Maeve shrieks from down the hall. My heart thunders. “Where are you, you ugly cow? Come here.”
What have I done now? I’m in the middle of scrubbing the toilet seat in Sheila’s bathroom, but I halt my movements. My stomach growls, and I press a hand to it. She won’t withhold my food, right? I’ve not had anything to eat all day.
“Soma,” Maeve roars. “Somadina.”
“Coming,” I call back, not daring to raise my voice.
Pain erupts in my knees when I try to move. I’ve been kneeling for half an hour, and my back throbs as I rise to my feet. Still, I hurry to Maeve’s room. The moment I enter, a dress lands on my face. I’m not quick to catch it, so it blinds my vision for a few seconds.
“What took you so long?” Maeve barks from her spot before the mirror tucked in a family frame.
Her glare keeps me from saying a word. Sometimes, I can’t tell when she wants an answer. Sheila remains quiet on the bed, applying pink nail polish to her toes.
Anyone looking at us will think I’m her slave, not her cousin. I never got to meet my parents. According to the few stories I overheard from others, my mother was a lovesick idiot. She fell in love with an omega and eloped with him.
While she was pregnant with me, my father was killed in a raid. Shortly after my mother conceived me, she followed him to the grave. And so, I wound up here, under Aunt Helen’s generosity, as she would so graciously call it. She never lets me forget I’m alive because of her kindness.
Life was better when Uncle Dorian was alive. But since his death, his wife and kids have never missed a chance to make every waking moment hard for me.
“Are you deaf too?” Maeve adds.
“I’m sorry,” I say to her, clutching the dress to my belly like it will save me. “I was cleaning Sheila’s room, but I rushed here as soon as I heard your voice.”
“Next time, act faster,” Maeve spits.
Her focus returns to the ointments on her vanity, and she picks one up with a frown. I’ve stayed with them long enough to know each one has a specific function.
“We’re wasting time, Maeve,” Sheila whines. I fold the dress, place it at the foot of the bed, and step back immediately. “Tell her what you want already.”
“Right.” Maeve clears her throat. When she looks at me again, she has her usual condescending smirk in place. “I need you to head to Color Lounge and fetch us a bottle of Glow oil. Sheila and I forgot to get some at the store while we were out shopping earlier today.”
Color Lounge is the biggest beauty store in the entire Shadowspire. Entry is determined by the amount you intend to spend, which must be a minimum of four figures. But why do they need another bottle? They look the same to me, and they’ve been using it all year.
“Have you really gone deaf?” Maeve snaps.
“Yes. No. No, I’m sorry. But—” My belly shrinks in displeasure, and my fingers twitch at my sides. Going to the store means my meal will be delayed. The last thing I ate was from yesterday noon. “I’m still busy with the bathroom. It will take another half hour. Can I finish with that first before going to Color Lounge?”
“What did you just say to me?”
Maeve shoots to her feet and marches toward me. Before I can process what’s happening, she slaps me. Her sharp nails cut into my skin, and I stumble back as blood rolls down my cheek. The wound stings, but I don’t heal immediately like most of the other wolves.
My eyes water, and I rub my hand over the spot. I know I’ll be carrying the imprint of her palm on my cheek all day.
“Listen to me carefully, you dimwit,” Maeve snarls. From the queen-size bed, Sheila chuckles. “When I ask you to do something, you do it. You do not complain or make up excuses. Is that clear?”
“Y-Yes,” I answer, swallowing the urge to cry.
“If I ask you to bark,” Maeve continues. “Your next question should be how loud. Do you understand me?”
My head bobs, and I mutter a shaky, “Yes.”
Tears threaten to fall, and I bite the inside of my cheek. If I let myself feel the pain, if I allow my tears to fall, it will be another weapon for them to use against me.
“Good. Now head to Color Lounge,” she commands.
But I can’t leave yet. I have no money of my own.
She snickers and stalks to her closet. On removing her purse, she flings a wad of cash at me. The money spills to the floor, and my back aches as I bend to pick it up.
“Once you purchase the oil, go straight to the palace,” she says. My stomach knots with hunger, but I push down the protest. “Sheila and I will be there for rehearsals.”
“And you’ll stay back to assist the palace maids with the decorations,” Sheila adds. I straighten up as she lifts her hand to her mouth and blows air over her nails. “Princess Sienna was complaining about the number of servants available to hang the decorations for the selection. They also need more servers for tomorrow.”
Sienna is the Alpha princess and the youngest royal. My cousins are among the fortunate few who run in her circle.
“Oh, that’s a marvellous idea.” Maeve’s eyes light up. She flops on the bed beside her sister, picking up the nail polish. “Offering free help to the palace would win us more brownie points with Prince Brynne.”
The way Maeve murmurs the crown prince’s name is intimate, like he’s already hers. Her delusions know no bounds. If the Moon Goddess had answered any of my previous prayers, I would have prayed to her to ensure Brynne doesn’t pick Maeve, but I know better.
“Sheila, you’re a genius,” she coos.
“Thank you, sister. It runs in our family.”
They laugh, and Sheila’s smile grows naughty. I don’t know if they have more demands of me, so I wait.
“Do you remember the guy who tried to talk to you at the store?” Sheila asks. Maeve’s brows furrow. “The one who—” She cuts herself off and turns to me. “Why are you still here, dummy? Need me to throw a party before you get your stinking self out of our sight?”
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“Always sorry, but never useful…”
Tears roll down my cheeks as I race out of the room. Just when I think I’m used to their insults, they say something that breaks me down further.
On stepping out of the house, I head straight to the bicycle on the freshly mowed lawn. Their cars are parked in the driveway—pink and black, but I’m not silly enough to wish for one. I can’t even drive.
My thighs ache as I climb onto the bicycle, but the only other option is walking. Checking once to ensure the money is still intact in my pocket, I start the ride to the beauty store. The oil Maeve wants is pricey, but money has never been an issue for any of them.
Once the cashier bags my purchase, I head out of the store and begin the slow and arduous ride up the palace hills. As I draw near to the palace, I see many girls my age and younger heading in the same direction. They are most likely going to the Luna selection rehearsals.
I stick to the curb, avoiding eye contact and trying not to fall off the old bicycle. I don’t know if my cousins are at the palace already, but to avoid any more drama, I pedal faster. Maybe they’ll let me eat before I join in the cleanup, but knowing my luck, that won’t happen.
The wind tugs at my hair, and I glance at the paper bag in the front basket. Just a few more blocks.
Someone darts across my path out of nowhere, and I swerve too fast to avoid hitting them. The front wheel wobbles, and my balance tips. My hands fly off the handlebars, and I’m one heartbeat away from kissing the floor.
The paper bag jolts, and the bottle slips halfway out of the basket. No. Maeve will skin me alive. I see the bottle shatter in my mind, see her twisted smile as she invents some cruel punishment for my clumsiness. Clenching my eyes shut as if it will block out the chaos that’s about to unfold, I brace for the fall, but it never happens.
A strong hand grabs me around the waist, yanking me back into balance before I tumble.
“Whoa…” a low voice says. It’s unmistakably male. “Easy there, Pup-Pup.”
My eyes snap open, and I find myself staring into the glinting blues of Mason Thorne.
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