Chapter 1
Freya was anything but an ordinary girl. Now, at 18, she felt grateful that she gained her wolf at 18, unlike her sister Izolda, who had earned hers at 16, like all her friends. Freya was different in many ways from other girls and boys her age.
She couldn't sense her mate until she recently gained her wolf, but even now, she couldn't believe that her mate was Dean, the future Alpha—a spoiled manwhore in every sense. Freya knew that Izolda wanted him more than anything, not because she loved him, but because of his title. Izolda always had everything, unlike Freya. She was tall, with long black hair like their parents, and full lips that could tempt any man who looked her way. Izolda knew how to manipulate people with her piercing black eyes.
Freya, on the other hand, was small but had a beautiful body, with striking orange hair, big dark blue eyes, and cherry-colored lips—qualities that set her apart from her family. Because she didn't gain her wolf at the same time as others, they treated her like an orphaned omega, but there was a reason for her delay. They just didn't know it yet.
Dean never told Freya that they were mates because he didn't want her. In fact, he desired Izolda to be his mate instead. He found her stronger, prettier, and the perfect choice for his luna. However, he was concerned that Izolda might break one of her long nails from working, which was unacceptable to him. Freya, on the other hand, worked alongside the other omegas, and Tara was her best friend among them. Her parents had made decisions for her, leaving her with no choice but to accept her fate. She held onto the hope that her time would come when Dean would reject her—she was certain he would if he wanted to be with Izolda.
Maybe then the Moon Goddess will give her another chance to be happy, far away from this Bloody Moon pack.
Freya despised Dean for his character; he took pleasure in torturing and humiliating her. Despite this, she never shed a tear in front of him. The only time she cried was in the solitude of her small, filthy room in the attic.
Nobody remembered her birthday, except for Tara, who made her a cake. Everyone, however, remembered Dean's birthday, and Freya needed to work overtime that night because half of their pack was at the packhouse.
“Oh, look who’s working tonight! Did you have a hard day, my little sister?” Izolda sneered at Freya, as usual, while their parents laughed along with her.
“Leave the omega to do her job, my dear,” their mother said, before exiting.
Izolda lingered. She sensed that something was going on; she knew Dean too well, but not enough about her sister.
“I know what you’re up to, but mark my words carefully: Dean is mine and only mine, you got it?!” She threatened Freya, delivering a hard punch to her belly. Freya crumpled to the ground in pain.
“Leave me alone, Izolda! I have no intentions whatsoever with your precious boyfriend!” Freya hissed. She wasn’t afraid of her sister; she felt nothing toward her. To Freya, Izolda was just another spoiled brat, just like Dean.
Something was stirring inside Freya's chest, a feeling she couldn't shake. Dean watched her all night like a hawk eyeing its prey, and she feared he might hurt her, either intentionally or, as he often did, accidentally. But this feeling was deeper and stronger than ever before.
"Calm down. After this night, things will be better, I promise you. Just hold on, Freya," her wolf, Xana, told her.
"What do you mean?" Freya asked, but Xana was silent, as if she didn’t want to communicate anymore. This scared Freya, a sensation she wasn't used to.
Everyone was drunk, Dean the most of all, and he scrutinized her every move. To escape, she slipped away into the garden behind the house. She couldn't even finish her tasks because of it. They all disgusted her, every single one of them—even Dean's parents, Erica and Zane Gilmore. They were all the same.
As she gazed at the stars and prayed to the Goddess, she heard footsteps. They were familiar, but she didn't turn around. She froze, knowing he was behind her.
"Who gave you permission to leave my celebration, huh? Answer me, or I will hurt you. Look at me when I'm talking to you, you filthy omega!" Dean yelled.
Freya turned around slowly.
"I gave myself permission, my mate," she replied with a wicked smile, knowing it would sting him. He stood there, shocked by her words.
She smirked. "Yeah, I know. So now you can reject me, just as I, Freya Collins, reject you, Dean Gilmore, as my mate and Alpha!" As she said it, all hell broke loose.
Freya didn't realize that she freed the animal inside Dean, the one he kept for two years, when he found out that she was his mate.
"Who the hell do you think you are to reject me like I’m nobody, huh, you filthy snake? I will teach you to respect me!" He yelled, hitting her hard before throwing her to the ground. He held her tightly, ripping her dress and panties, taking her roughly like an animal, ignoring her screams and pleas. It was all in vain.
Freya tried to defend herself, but only managed to scratch his face a little, which only fueled his anger. She felt as if her body would burst from the pain, yet she shed no tears. She stopped fighting and started watching the stars, recalling Xana's words. She felt utterly broken, more than ever before. He had taken something precious from her—her virginity and her dignity.
"Now I reject you, you filthy whore!" Dean spat, zipping up his pants and dragging her by her hair toward the pack house. "You will pay for hurting my face, and I will gladly punish you!" He threatened, but she remained silent. She had no strength left; she felt like a living dead person.
