MY HOCKEY ALPHA ROOM MATES PUNISHED ME

ROSIE'S POV

The freezing water had already turned my knuckles a raw, aching red, but I kept scrubbing. I had to.

"Are your hands broken, or just as useless as the rest of you?"

The venomous snarl was the only warning I got before a heavy combat boot slammed into the middle of my spine. The breath exploded from my lungs as I was thrown forward. My knees tore against the sharp gravel, but worse was my face plunging straight into the stagnant, muddy puddle where I’d been working. A split second later, the heavy basket of filthy linens was upended directly over my head. Wet, heavy fabric and foul water plastered me to the dirt.

A chorus of vicious, barking laughter erupted above me. I lay there for a suffocating second, the taste of blood and soil thick on my tongue. The physical pain was a dull throb compared to the agonizing, hollow shame burning in my chest.

"Look at the little traitor groveling in the dirt," one of the older enforcers sneered, his shadow falling over my trembling frame. "Exactly where a piece of garbage belongs."

I forced my shaking arms to push my chest off the ground. Mud dripped from my eyelashes, blinding me, but I didn't dare reach up to wipe it. If I showed them I cared, if I let them see a single tear, they would only circle closer like buzzards.

"Get your face back in the mud!" A female wolf spat, stepping forward to press the sole of her shoe sharply against my shoulder, forcing me back down. "You ought to be kissing our feet for letting you breathe the same air as us. Did you actually forget you're nothing but breeding stock for the lowest omegas now?"

I choked back the sob rising in my throat. My silence only seemed to infuriate them.

"Answer her, you mute bitch," the lead enforcer growled. He grabbed a fistful of my damp hair, yanking my head back so fast my neck popped. His breath smelled like rotting meat. "You think your old bloodline means anything? You're a convicted rat. A stain on this pack. I should rip your throat out right now and save us all the food you waste."

"I..." My voice cracked, raw and terrifyingly frail. "I understand. I'm... I'm sorry. Let me finish the laundry."

He shoved my head forward in disgust. "Leave the pathetic wretch. If the Alpha catches us wasting time on a prisoner, it'll be our hides."

I didn't move until the crunch of their boots faded away. Only then did my shoulders collapse. I stared at the ruined, muddy clothes scattered across the yard—hours of grueling, back-breaking labor, completely destroyed. A hot, miserable tear slipped down my cheek, carving a clean line through the grime. I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop it, I screamed at myself. Crying won't wash the clothes. Crying won't change your sentence.

"Rosie? Goddess above, what did they do to you?"

My breath hitched. I knew that voice. It was a timbre that vibrated right through to my bones—warm, deep, and laced with genuine shock. Frank. The Alpha’s heir.

I scrambled backward, frantically dragging the back of my bruised hand across my filthy cheeks. "I'm alright," I stammered, keeping my chin practically glued to my chest. "I just tripped."

"We both know that's a lie," he murmured, his boots coming to a halt just inches from my bruised knees.

I dared to peek up through my wet lashes. His striking green eyes were wide, swirling with a storm of empathy and fury that made my chest physically ache. There was no revulsion in his gaze. He didn't look at me like I was a disease. He was the only creature in this entire territory who still looked at me like I possessed a soul.

"It's just dirt," I whispered, forcing my lips to twitch into something resembling a smile. "Just another afternoon."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he surveyed the scattered, muddy laundry. "They cross the line every day. You don't deserve to be treated like an animal, Rosie."

"It's the Alpha's decree," I replied, my voice devoid of emotion. "I am serving my time."

He stood in silence for a heavy, agonizing moment, looking as if he wanted to reach out, but the invisible wall of my criminal status kept his hands at his sides. "You're better than this place," he finally said, his voice thick with frustration.

As he turned and walked away, the icy wind seemed to bite harder. Thank you, I thought silently to his retreating back.

I began gathering the soiled garments, my mind wandering to the one sliver of pathetic hope I couldn't seem to kill: my approaching eighteenth birthday. The awakening. The day the Moon Goddess assigned mates. In my deepest, most secret fantasies, I prayed the Goddess would bind me to Frank. I prayed for a miracle to pull me from this hell.

But I wasn't an idiot. Miracles didn't happen to pack pariahs.

The days dragged on, a miserable loop of scrubbing floors, dodging kicks, and swallowing insults. The worst blow, however, didn't come from the enforcers. It came that evening in the mess hall. I was carrying a heavy crate of scraps when my twin sister, Harper, glided past. Her hair was perfectly styled, her clothes pristine. I froze, my heart aching for the girl I used to share everything with. But her eyes slid over me like I was completely invisible.

A bitter, hysterical laugh bubbled in my chest as I watched her walk away. I threw my life away for you, I thought, gripping the wooden crate until my splinters dug into my palms. I took the blame for your crime. The Alpha nearly executed me, and you're just going to let me rot so you can keep your perfect reputation.

There was no point in mourning a sister who was already dead to me.

By the time the morning of our shared birthday dawned, my nerves were completely frayed. College was starting soon—my only potential escape—but today was about the awakening. Naturally, the grand ceremony in the pack hall was entirely in Harper's honor. She was the golden child. I was merely the shadow that happened to share her birth date.

I hid in the darkest corner near the heavy oak doors, watching the pack toast to my twin's health. I just wanted to survive the day unnoticed.

Then, the heavy doors swung open, and Frank stepped into the hall.

The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the entire world simply stopped.

It didn't happen like a soft realization. It was violent. It felt as if a blazing, invisible tether had been hooked directly into my sternum, violently yanking me forward. My lungs seized. The chatter of the crowded room dissolved into a distant, muffled ringing. All I could smell was petrichor, cedar, and an intoxicating musk that completely overloaded my senses.

Mate.

My wolf clawed at the inside of my mind, howling in absolute, terrified reverence. The universe, in all its twisted, cruel humor, had actually listened to my desperate prayers.

Before my rational brain could command my legs to stay put, I was moving. I shoved past two bewildered enforcers, stepping directly out of the shadows and into the glaring, unforgiving light of the center aisle. The music died abruptly. Dozens of conversations flatlined into a suffocating, dead silence. Every single predator in the room turned their hostile gaze on the filthy, disgraced omega ruining the party.

But I didn't care. I couldn't see them. I could only see Frank. He had frozen midway across the room, his chest heaving as his green eyes locked onto mine.

"Frank," I gasped. The name tasted like salvation on my tongue. I didn't know how I looked—probably like a bruised, terrifying ghost—but I couldn't stop the words from tearing out of my throat.

"You are my mate. The Moon Goddess... she gave you to me."