Alpha Alvars Runaway Bride

Rylee

I wake up before the sun every day and trek through the snowy forest to the packhouse by 6 a.m.

From 6 to 9 a.m., I'm stuck cleaning the kitchen and doing hard labor. They won’t let me handle food because they think I'll make it dirty. Only when Marta, the kitchen manager, is too busy, she’ll let me help make flour for muffins.

Greenvale is far up north, so mornings are late here. By the time I finish in the kitchen, it’s just getting light outside.

At 9 sharp, I head to the laundry room. Doing laundry in winter is brutal since we don’t have washing machines. The pack's finances are tight, and sometimes our heater doesn’t work. If I want hot water, it’s all about luck—which, unsurprisingly, isn't on my side today. Happy birthday to me.

I turn on the faucet. Great. No steam. Just icy cold water.

I soak my hands in the biting cold and struggle to wash the clothes Alpha and Luna have piled up over the past week. My fingers quickly freeze and turn purple. Other werewolves might not mind the cold, but I do. My body is weaker than the average omega, probably because I’ve never been properly breastfed.

I was never once nursed by my mother. Never. She died giving birth to me.

I really wish I had a washing machine. As soon as I get out of this hellhole, the first thing I’m doing is saving up to buy one!

After Alpha and Luna's laundry, I start washing Beta and his wife's clothes. When I finally get all the laundry done and am ready to take them to the kitchen to dry, someone bumps me hard from behind.

I fall. The clothes scatter all over the ground.

Who the fuck just…

I look up. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a semi-permanent look of impatience. It’s Syd.

Alright, never mind. Without a word, I get up and gather the clothes.

Syd is Beta's son and the designated next Beta. Pack rules say cursing superiors will be punished, and the last thing I want is a beating.

Syd yells at me, “You're in my way.”

The road is wide. I'm skinny. He's 6'3". I'm 5'2". How am I in his way? Idiot.