The Alpha's Prize

Emily.

I could hear my father shouting in the other room. Something had set him off. Again. There was no question he was taking it out on my mother. I didn't understand how she could bear it. I wish we could leave this godforsaken place. But she and I both knew that would get us killed.

A clap resounded throughout our home, likely my father's palm contacting my mother's face yet again. I cringed but made sure I continued my chores, not wanting to be on the receiving end of one of my father's harsh slaps. I don't even know why I react anymore. It's become our normal. I should be used to it by now. But still, every time I hear the unmistakable sound of a hand hitting flesh, my body instinctively jumps.

My father, the drunk Alpha. The one nobody dared cross for fear of his wrath. He was a horrible leader, but still was the head of our pack and the largest and strongest of us all. Nothing could change that. And nothing ever would. My brother followed in his footsteps - always drinking and gambling. No one could touch him either as the next Alpha in line. He could get away with murder if he ever went that far.

My mother always favored him. From the moment he was born, even now as he's turned into a monster, she still loved him more. Somehow she had it in her head that she could still rescue him, still change him into the sweet boy he used to be. But there's no way that man, that beast, could ever change for the better.

The soft feeling of the rag drying off my puny porcelain hands soothed my thoughts from the violent sounds I had heard. I stepped back, admiring my work. The dishes were nicely stacked, shining clean and clear as the day they were made. A smile came to my slightly dirty face - I took pride in my thorough work. It always made my day brighter when I could finish my chores to the point of perfection, with everything in order as it should be.

"Emily!" I heard my name shouted angrily from down the hall, snapping me from my reverie.

"Coming!" I called to him, hanging the drying towel on its hook.

My hands grasped the sides of my hand-me-down dress, pulling the rough fabric away from my feet so I could walk faster. My shoes pounded on the hardwood floor as I made my way quickly to the sitting room where my father was. I made sure not to run - it was one of the many rules in our house.

I slowed when I neared, making sure not to anger the Alpha further. As I bowed my head, I noticed the room was in disarray.

*Great. I had just tidied this room only an hour ago!*

"Yes, sir?" I asked, head still bowed, eyes to the floor.

“Clean up this mess!” he replied gruffly, gesturing with his large hands to the room. “And when you’re finished, get started on supper. I’m starving!”

He stomped away, grabbing his half-empty beer bottle off the coffee table as he left. It was eerily silent with him gone, and the room seemed bigger without his intimidating figure within. I heaved a sigh of relief before bending over to pick up the item closest to me - one of the few books my father owned. It was dusty from disuse. Particles of dust billowed into the air as I brushed it clean before placing it on the top shelf where it belonged. I sang a song to myself while I picked up trinket after trinket, placing them in their correct spots. The melody captured me while I continued, swinging my tiny hips while I cleaned up the very room I had tidied earlier that day.

I continued my song, moving from the sitting room to the kitchen. Using both hands, I grabbed the two old and rusting black pots, setting them down on the stove with a clang. After filling the larger one with water and turning the burner on high, I placed the lid to allow the water to boil faster. I shuffled around the room with practiced steps and hands, grabbing the ingredients I needed for my favorite dish. Tonight I was going to make Alfredo with my homemade noodles and sauce recipe I had spent years perfecting.

The noodles had been made the other day and sat in the fridge, waiting to be used. The sauce swirled mesmerizingly, capturing my gaze. There was nothing in the world like cooking in the kitchen. It might have been a chore, but to me, it was freedom - the one place I had complete control.

Within a few minutes, I had added everything needed except the cheese. It was important to wait until the mixture was warm enough to melt the parmesan without making it chunk up. A smile crept up my face as the scent of it filled my nostrils. I closed my eyes for a minute, savoring the wonderful smell and the peace of being alone in the kitchen.

I tossed the homemade noodles into a metal strainer before setting it above the boiling water, letting the handle rest on the edge of the pot. The noodles would quickly heat back up while I prepared slices of French bread on plates for my family.

The noodles slipped from the spoon onto each plate as I served up the food. I drizzled the Alfredo Sauce onto the round plops of noodles, making sure it didn’t run into the bread on the side. The last thing I needed was for my favorite meal to be soiled by a beating for ‘ruining’ my father’s dish.

In the next room over, I heard my father plop down into his seat, his weight rattling the silverware.

“Emily! Where is dinner?” he bellowed.

I pushed through the door with my backside, the tray of plates balanced in my right hand while I held a pitcher of ice water in the other. The ice clinked as I poured my father a glass of water before everyone else. I placed his plate in front of him quickly and silently, keeping my eyes averted. I served my older brother next, his plate scraping slightly on the rickety wooden table. He stuck his booted foot out in an attempt to trip me, but I was prepared and sidestepped, pretending not to notice. I placed my mother’s food in front of her next, noticing a new maroon welt on her cheek. She didn’t even bother covering them up anymore. Sighing, I moved to my own rickety chair and sat down.

My mother and I sat demurely with our hands in our laps, waiting for my father to signal we could start eating, even though he and my brother were already digging in. As always, once he was satisfied his food was good enough, he grunted and gestured outward with his hand for us to begin eating. I kept my eyes on my plate as I picked up my fork to shovel the delicious food into my mouth.

My reflection on the shimmering plate caught my attention. The first thing I noticed was my messy bun leaning slightly to the left, strands of my dusty brown hair falling from the band and into my face. I brushed the bit of hair away, tucking it behind my ear. My amber eyes stared back at me, tired and seemingly older than they should. While I had been told by some that my eyes glinted in the sun like roaring flames, I only ever saw a dying spark. A tear formed in the corner, highlighting the glow. But the spark would never reignite the passion I once had inside. Before the tear could fall, I shook my head, letting the sorrowful thoughts leave. I turned back to my food, ignoring the sad girl on the surface of my plate.

As normal, I was in my own world as we ate. I hardly ever paid attention to anyone else during meals. The only time I ever looked up was when my name was explicitly called. But today, something caught my attention. I heard my brother mumbling something about his gambling adventures that day. He had been charged to go into the city for a job, but unsurprisingly found himself gambling all his money away instead. I only caught snippets, but when I heard my name grumbled from my brother’s mouth, my ears perked up.

“She’s only an Omega,” I heard him say with annoyance. “I don’t see the big deal. She’s meant to serve.”

Oh great. What did I have to do now?

As my father and my brother continued mumbling, I heard snippets. Something about the Enforcers - the second largest mafia gang around.

That couldn’t be good. What had Daniel gotten himself into this time? And what was my role in this?

I heard my name again, and I blanched. The noodles on my fork fell on my plate with a splat.

“I ran out of money, but I was sure I could win the last hand. So I bet Emily. How was I supposed to know the pompous heir could beat a full house?”

Emily.

“I bet Emily” rang through my head over and over as I lay on my crusty blanket. He. Bet. Me. How could he do that to his own sister? I know we were never close, but using me as one would a gambling chip? That was low even for Daniel. Being the Omega I was, I couldn’t berate him as I wished I could. I wanted to shove my chair back as soon as I heard those words. I wanted to chew him out. Who did he think he was gambling me away? But I couldn’t. I had learned long ago to bite my tongue to keep from a beating.

Tears stung my eyes as I thought about my inevitable future. One week - the deadline Daniel had been given to pay up. I knew little to nothing about the Enforcer’s heir. Only rumors. I only knew one thing for certain, and that was that he was bad news - nothing good ever came from an encounter with him. As horrible as my life was now, it would be exponentially worse shackled to that man. Could he even be considered that after the things he’s done? To me, he’s more beast than man.

Suddenly, a thought popped into my mind. What’s that phrase again? “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”

If I were to know my enemy as well as I know myself, I was going to need to do some digging into this beast and the mysteries that surround him.

I swung my legs, using the momentum to lift myself up into a sitting position. I quickly grabbed my worn shoes and tied them on. Silently, I walked over to my door, making sure to avoid the sections of the floor that squeaked. I gently turned the knob, hoping nobody heard the slight click as the latch dislodged from its cradle. Easing the door open, making sure to go slow enough that the hinges couldn’t make a sound, I poked my head out. Nobody was in sight and I smiled inwardly at my good fortune.

Closing the door as carefully as I had opened it, I made sure to keep the knob turned until I knew the latch lined up perfectly with the center of the faceplate. It noiselessly slid in, keeping my door shut. I knew getting out would be much harder than leaving my room, but I was determined to make it to the library before they closed. It was the only place I knew where I could get free information on the man I had been sold to.

It took much longer than I had hoped to sneak through my father’s home, avoiding the noisy floorboards, pausing when I heard any sort of noise, and opening the front door. The goddess must be on my side today because I hadn’t made a single noise as I escaped.

Knowing it would be faster, and therefore less likely for me to be missed, if I shifted. My wolf was much faster on four paws than I was on two feet. Hopefully, she understood as much as I did the importance of stealth today. My wolf could sometimes be a wildcard. I knew she hated being cooped up as much as she was, but I didn’t make the rules. I just followed them.

I ducked behind a bush to undress and stuff my clothes into my bag. I couldn’t very well show up at Ravensworth’s public library completely nude. It was a small town, and there would most definitely be talk about it. I planned to shift behind the library where a small oasis of nature lay. I would hopefully blend in with everyone else if I kept my head down. I could get to one of the computers and do some research. There had to be something on the entire internet about this man.

I laid the bag on the ground in front of me before shifting. The process was almost always painful. One wasn’t meant to keep their wolf in for such long periods of time like I did. Tears formed in my eyes as my bones snapped and elongated. I held back a howl of pain as the transformation continued. My amber eyes were the only piece of me that remained the same. Everything else about me melted away as the fiery wolf took over.

I could tell she was glad to be let out. Thankfully, she didn’t vocalize her joy. Instead, she picked up my bag in her teeth. Good. She’s got the mission. I tried my best to guide her, but she was too busy being free to listen carefully. Lucky for me, she stayed mostly out of sight on the way to the library.

She got us both to the lush library gardens within only a couple of minutes. I could tell she was reluctant to hide again, but she must have sensed how important this was to me. She let go fairly easily, and I shifted back into myself. I grabbed my clothes, hiding behind a large bush as I got dressed. Popping my head around the bush, I could see the historical building in all its grandeur. With the day ending, the library would be closing within the hour and the amount of patrons was scarce.

I waited until a group of people were heading in. I trailed behind them, keeping my head down. The smell of dusty old books hit my nose first. Most people would probably be put off by the smell, but I welcomed it, taking in a deep breath. It smelled like freedom. I made my way to the row of computers and looked around to make sure no one I knew directly was around. The chair slid easily across the carpet as I pulled it out. I wiggled the mouse as I sat down, letting the screen brighten to the lovely blue.

I opened up the browser and started my search. I could not remember the heir’s name, so I did a quick search on the Enforcers. While there was a lot of information about the gang, ‌as well as the current leader, I found it hard to gather specifics about the heir. I scrolled for what seemed like hours until I finally came upon the name of the heir - Dylon Licata, son of Victor Licata, the current mob boss.

Finally! I typed the name into the search bar and multiple news articles popped up. I clicked through a few, but found little information on the heir other than his reputation. I scrolled further and came upon an article that seemed promising. It was from an author known for truth and deep research.

My eyes widened as I read the words on the screen. Not only were there accusations against him for the way he treated women, particularly omegas, but even worse crimes. He had never been charged with murder, but as part of the mafia, it’s expected. This story, however, stood out over the usual mob killings. The author accused Dylon of kidnapping and abusing the alpha’s sister of a rival pack.

I had never heard what happened to her. All I knew was she went missing and was presumed dead. But this article went on in detail about the injuries she was found with, where her body was found, and that it all led back to Dylon - the last person to be seen with her. As he does all his conquests, he saw her as his possession. She was his to do with as he pleased. Even if it meant raping her and leaving her for dead once he was done with her.

The article went into detail about how she had been abused, and how she eventually died due to injuries she sustained. My eyes welled with tears as I read on. This poor girl didn’t even get the justice she deserved. And neither would I.

I gulped. I was going to end up just like all his other omegas. Used ‘til I’m dead, or worse, used until I wished I were dead. I started to wonder if any of his conquests begged for death as he claimed what he thought was his.

A tap on my shoulder woke me from the trance I didn’t know I was in. I faintly heard a female voice telling me the library was closing. Instinctively, I closed the window. I turned my head, not wanting her to see the tears on my face and ask more questions. I wiped my face with my sleeve before nodding my understanding. The hum of the computer died down after I clicked the shutdown button. I had been here much longer than I had intended.

I quickly scooped up my bag and rushed out the door. Quickly tossing my clothes into my bag, I let my wolf take over, shifting quicker than I ever had in the past. She took us home, heading to the back door, hoping to avoid detection.

There was little likelihood that my absence had gone unnoticed, but I hoped all the same. I wasn’t sure I could endure a beating on top of the mental anguish I endured that day.

As I approached the back door, now fully clothed, I tried the knob. It was locked. The blood rushed from my face. I had been missed. I didn’t dare try the front door; I knew that my father would be waiting there, ready to dole out my punishment.

I wandered around to the side of the house, hoping my bedroom window could be persuaded open. It held fast, unmoving. Just as I was about to try my mother’s window, I heard the crunch of grass. The footsteps were heavy and sure. Those were my father’s footsteps.

He rounded the corner, his belt in one hand and the other clenched in a tight fist.

“What have I told you about leaving without permission?” he growled.

I backed away slowly, glancing behind me to the back of the house. Could I make it to the front door if I ran around the back fast enough? That was when I saw my brother stalking toward me, his tall figure towering over me. I knew then that it was futile to run. I might have been able to outrun my drunken father, but even on his most intoxicated days, my brother was quicker than me.

My shoulders hunched in defeat and I curled into myself. I could see my brother smirk, his green eyes alight with mischief. My father’s gruff figure hulked toward me. His green eyes matched Daniel’s, but instead of mischief, his were filled with an intensity that caused me to shudder.

Daniel reached me first and held me fast. I knew I shouldn’t struggle, but I couldn’t help it. Terror seized me the closer my father got.

“Let me go!” I cried, trying to wrench my arms free.

Big mistake. My arms were pulled painfully behind my back, twisting in a way that sent pain shooting up my forearms and shoulders. Tears sprung to my eyes. His hold on me tightened, and I was forced to my knees. My head hung low.

“I provide a roof over your head. I provide food for you to eat. I provide clothes for you to wear. And you can’t follow a simple a rule as not to leave my house without my permission?”

I wanted to shout at him. He knew full well he wasn’t the one that provided anything. I worked so incredibly hard every single day to make sure we had enough money for food and clothes, not to mention electricity and water. Between my father’s and brother’s gambling habits, we were practically destitute. But I knew speaking back to him would result in even more lashes.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I replied quietly, eyes downcast.

“What was that?!”

“I am sorry that I didn’t listen, sir,” I said a bit louder.

“You know the consequence for disobeying me,” he said, stretching the belt between his hands, and giving it a snap.

“Yessir,” I muttered as my brother let go.

I didn’t need his hands on me to hold me down. The weight of what was about to happen kept me on the ground, cowering on my knees. My eyes shut instinctively as my father’s arm came down. My teeth clenched together more and more with each blow, but I refused to let any sound escape from between them. I wouldn’t give Daniel the satisfaction of hearing me cry.

Once my father had finished doling out my punishment for leaving the house, my brother chuckled, looking down at my pitiful figure hunched on the grass. He kicked me roughly in the side before walking away. Despite myself, I let out a whimper, which I was certain Daniel heard. I hated giving him the satisfaction of hearing me cry from the pain. But I couldn’t help it today.

I just lay there on the lawn curled into a ball until I heard my father’s angry voice calling out the front door. I sighed. When would this suffering end?

I picked myself up and made my way to the front door.