It had been nearly a year since Caden's rejection, and in that time, River's life had spiraled into a nightmare. If the pack was unkind before, they were merciless now. The rejection had been like blood in the water, signaling to every predator that she was fair game.
The bullying turned vile. One of them had even tracked her back to the Omega quarters, beating her so badly she was on crutches for two weeks. It felt as though Caden hadn't just broken her heart; he had kicked open a door and invited misery to walk right in.
New Omegas had joined the quarters—Harris, Noah, and Jessie. River had hoped their presence might dilute the cruelty, or at least fill the void of loneliness, but nothing changed. The scars accumulated. There wasn't a day she didn't wake up in pain or go to sleep nursing a new injury. It was a bruise one day, a fracture the next.
So, on the day she turned eighteen, she made her decision.
"You can't be serious," Tessa's voice echoed in the small room. She looked up from her laptop, the screen cracked like a spiderweb, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Tessa had been River's anchor. Through every beatdown, every humiliation, Tessa was there to remind her that no condition was permanent. When River came home with a broken limb or a swollen face, Tessa would try to make her laugh, joking that she'd marry a Northern Alpha and rain down revenge on everyone who hurt them. She was the only reason River could still smile through cracked lips.
And now, River had just told her she was leaving the Pack for good.
"Are you joking?" Tessa spat, realizing River wasn't laughing. She pushed her cereal bowl and laptop aside.
"I've thought about this, Tessa. I'm done. I am sick and tired of being a punching bag for monsters. I want to leave."
River's voice wasn't angry; it was deep. Exhausted. She had been harboring this thought ever since the day Caden looked at her with disgust.
"Look, I get it. I know why you want to run. But have you thought this through? You know the fate that awaits a lone wolf without a Pack," Tessa argued, her voice trembling. "You know what becomes of rogues."
"I know," River breathed, picking at the frayed threads of her jeans. "I'd be an outcast. A target."
"You could be treated worse, River."
"No," River cut in, her voice cracking. "I've lived 'worse,' Tessa. I've tasted it every single day in this place. I'm prepared for whatever is out there because nothing can be worse than what is in here."
"So, you'd just abandon me?" The dread in Tessa's voice made bile rise in River's throat.
It hurt to hear, but River felt she had no choice. Every morning, when the sun assaulted her eyes, she wondered why the moon goddess bothered to wake her up. Her grandmother used to say the moon goddess protects Her own, but River felt entirely abandoned. Caden had ruined her, and the pack was picking apart the leftovers. She was damaged beyond repair.
"River, I'm not trying to be selfish," Tessa softened, seeing the look on her friend's face. "I know this place is a hellhole. But I'm worried. The world out there... they kill rogues on sight."
River understood. A rogue was the lowest of the low—wolves kicked out of packs or those who fled to seek revenge. Alphas often executed them without a second thought. River knew she was playing with death.
But she had accepted a long time ago that death might be a mercy compared to this life.
She didn't say that out loud. instead, she just nodded and whispered, "I know."
Tessa watched her with a sorrowful gaze as River climbed the wooden stairs. River swallowed her tears, trying to hide the limp in her step. Anthony, one of her tormentors, had cornered her in the restrooms yesterday and jammed a splintered mop handle onto her foot. Without her wolf fully surfaced, the healing was agonizingly slow.
River cried herself to sleep, but the peace didn't last.
She was jolted awake by a rhythmic banging downstairs. The house was silent otherwise; it was past eleven, and the other Omegas had long since retired.
She slid out of bed, her heart hammering against her ribs. She crept down the lazy, creaking wooden stairs, tiptoeing to avoid the spots that groaned under pressure.
The noise led her to the kitchen. When she peered around the doorframe, her jaw dropped. A familiar figure stood over the worktable, chopping onions with aggressive precision.
It was her uncle. Uncle Derek.
"Oh, you're awake! I thought you'd sleep through it," Derek said cheerfully, not even turning around. He had spotted her reflection in the dark window.
"It's past eleven!" River snapped, adrenaline replacing her fear. She rushed to the stove, turning off the burner just as he was about to dump spaghetti into the boiling water.
"What the hell do you think you're doing in my kitchen?" she demanded, grabbing the pasta from his hand and shoving it back into the cupboard.
"I just wanted to make something for my Princess. It's been a while, and I missed you."
"Get out," River bit out, glaring at him.
"Oh, come on, River. I thought we were past this? Let's make amends. I remember how much you used to love my spaghetti mixed with ca—"
"I said, get out!" River yelled, shoving him. "Leave before I do something you'll regret."
"Come on, Princess. Please. We're family." Derek's voice dropped to a pleading tone, his eyelashes fluttering in a display of innocence. "I don't want to fight."
"I don't want to talk to you. Not now. Maybe in the future, but not while everything you did is still so fresh."
"I'm returning to my Pack tonight," Derek said fast, desperation creeping in. "I might never come back here. This is the last time you might ever see me, River. I just want to make things right. Please."
River hesitated.
"Okay. Just a walk," he offered. "Take a walk with me. I just want your company for a few minutes before I leave for good."
River looked up into his caramel-brown eyes. They were identical to her father's. It was cruel how Uncle Derek had inherited every one of her father's features, leaving her with nothing but memories.
Slowly, against her better judgment, River nodded.
Derek smiled softly and led the way out into the cold, chilly night.
"How is life here?" Derek asked, breaking the overwhelming silence of the woods.
River opened her mouth to tell him the truth—about the abuse, the crutches, the misery—but stopped. She didn't want his pity, and she didn't want to pressure him into saving her. She chose a lie instead.
"Good. Normal. Just like the life of any Omega."
She dug her hands into the pocket of her black hoodie, shivering slightly in the night air.
"You can always ask if you need anything," Derek offered. River nodded, feeling herself warm up to him slightly.
"I'm sorry I didn't make it for your mother's death anniversary."
"It's fine. We didn't do anything for it anyway."
Derek frowned. "Why?"
"No money," River replied simply.
"About that." Derek stopped on the trail, forcing River to halt. He fished a phone with a cracked screen from his pocket and extended it to her. "Put your number in."
"Why?"
"I'll wire you some money when I get back to my Pack. Use it to eat good meals. Buy yourself something nice."
"You really don't have to..." River started.
"I do, River. I should have been a father to you after your dad died, but... my worst side took over. I got greedy. This is my penance. Please, don't say no."
River felt a lump in her throat. He was right; he owed her this. She nodded and typed in her number. When she handed the phone back, she noticed he seemed distracted, his eyes darting anxiously around the dark woods.
"Are you okay?" River tapped his arm.
He blinked, snapping back to reality, and gave her an apologetic smile. "Yeah. Look, can you wait here a second? I need to take a leak."
"Seriously?"
"When you gotta go, you gotta go," he muttered, dashing off into the brush.
River waited, leaning against a rough oak tree. Minutes ticked by. The wind picked up, whistling through the branches. It felt wrong.
When Derek finally reappeared, he wasn't alone.
Two hefty men flanked him, dressed in black from head to toe—black leather jackets, combat boots, and masks that obscured their faces.
River pushed off the tree, frowning. As they walked toward her in perfect sync, Derek raised a hand and pointed at her. The warmth she had seen in his eyes moments ago vanished, replaced by a cold, dead stare.
"That's her," Derek barked.
The men stepped forward, grabbing River by her elbows.
"What is going on?!" River screamed, wrenching her body, trying to twist free. But their grip was like iron.
"What's going on," Derek said, his voice void of emotion, "is that I'm finally putting you to good use."
River froze, catching the smirk curling on his lips.
"What do you mean?!"
Derek didn't answer her. He turned to the masked men, smiling widely. "Tell the Alpha I appreciate his generosity. I never thought he'd pay such a high price for a broken thing like her."
River's blood ran cold. Price?
"High price?! What do you mean high price?!"
"Slavery fits you better than being an Omega, don't you think?" Derek laughed darkly. "Have a nice life, Princess."
He spun on his heel and began walking away.
"Uncle Derek?! Come back here! Derek!!"
Her scream tore through the night, but he didn't look back. She struggled violently, kicking and thrashing, until she felt the sharp pinch of a needle in her neck.
The cold liquid flooded her veins. Her vision blurred, the trees spinning violently above her, until her world went terrifyingly blank.