After My Alpha Betrayed Me, I Found the Lycan King

The servants' quarters smelled like mildew and broken dreams.

I pressed my back against the thin mattress that served as my bed, staring at the water stains spreading across the ceiling like ugly bruises. Two weeks. Two weeks since the explosion that destroyed my life, and I was still waiting for someone—anyone—to realize this was all a mistake.

My fingers traced the raised scar tissue along my left temple, the skin still tender and angry red. The burns had healed wrong without proper medical care. Alpha Luca had made it clear that Omegas didn't deserve the pack healer's attention. My right ear rang constantly now, a high-pitched whine that never stopped. Half the world sounded muffled, like I was underwater.

But the worst part wasn't the scars or the hearing loss. It was the silence where my wolf used to be. The wolfsbane had poisoned our bond, leaving me hollow and incomplete. I kept reaching for her instinctively, the way you might reach for a light switch in the dark, only to find empty space.

A sharp kick to my door made me flinch.

"Get up, Omega." Brittany's voice dripped with false sweetness. "The main hall needs scrubbing. Again."

I pulled myself to my feet, my ribs still aching from injuries that refused to heal properly. Without my wolf, my body was as fragile as any human's. Maybe more so.

The main hall stretched before me like a punishment. I'd cleaned these floors yesterday. And the day before. But Brittany always found reasons for me to do it again. I filled my bucket with soapy water and knelt on the cold stone, my knees already raw from endless hours in this position.

The scrub brush felt heavy in my hands. Everything felt heavy now.

"Oh, look what we have here." Brittany's heels clicked across the floor I'd just cleaned. She wore a flowing blue dress that complemented her blonde hair perfectly. Luna colors. She'd been wearing them more and more lately, even though Luca hadn't officially made her his mate yet.

She paused directly in front of me, her designer shoes inches from my face.

"You missed a spot," she said, and deliberately kicked over my water bucket.

Soapy water rushed across the stones, soaking through my thin dress and pooling around my knees. The cold made me gasp, but I didn't look up. Couldn't. The Omega conditioning had been drilled into me through two weeks of Alpha Commands and pack hierarchy. Keep your head down. Don't speak unless spoken to. Accept your place.

"Clean it up," Brittany ordered. "And do it right this time."

I reached for the mop with shaking hands, but she stepped on the handle.

"With the brush," she clarified, her smile sharp as broken glass. "On your hands and knees. Like the dog you are."

My cheeks burned with humiliation, but I obeyed. I always obeyed now. The alternative was worse—more Alpha Commands, more pain, more isolation. I scrubbed at the wet stone while Brittany watched, occasionally stepping in puddles to track mud across my work.

"You know," she said conversationally, "I've been thinking about your father."

My hands stilled on the brush. Papa. I hadn't been allowed to see him since the night of the explosion. Pack law stated that Omegas couldn't leave the packhouse without permission, and Luca had made it clear that permission would never come.

"Such a shame about the rumors," Brittany continued, examining her nails. "People are saying he was involved in your little assassination plot. That he trained you. Helped you plan it."

Ice flooded my veins. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" She tilted her head, mock concern creasing her features. "I mean, he did train our Alpha. He'd know exactly how to hurt him. And you are his daughter. Blood tells, doesn't it?"

"My father is loyal to this pack," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "He served as Gamma for thirty years."

"Served," Brittany repeated. "Past tense. People change, Evelynn. People get bitter when they're forced to retire. When they see their daughters failing to live up to expectations."

She crouched down beside me, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I heard some of the younger wolves paid him a visit yesterday. Left him a little message about what happens to traitors in this pack."

My blood turned to ice. "What kind of message?"

Brittany's smile was poison-sweet. "Oh, just some paint. Red paint. Looks lovely against his front door. Really makes the word 'TRAITOR' pop."

I lunged to my feet so fast the world spun. "You can't—he's innocent—"

"Sit. Down."

The Alpha Command hit me like a physical blow, forcing my legs to buckle. I collapsed back onto my knees in the puddle of dirty water, my body betraying me even as my mind screamed in protest.

Brittany stood, smoothing her dress. "Your father made his choice when he raised a terrorist. Now he gets to live with the consequences."

She walked away, her heels echoing off the stone walls like gunshots. I stayed kneeling in the cold water, my whole body shaking with rage and helplessness.

Somewhere beyond these walls, my father was alone and afraid, painted with accusations he didn't deserve. And I couldn't do anything to help him.

I couldn't even help myself.