Claimed By My Bully Alpha

Aurora's P.O.V

I jolted awake from a sharp pain on my side, my entire body feeling like I had been run over by a speeding truck. And it didn't take long before the splitting headache made me groan out in pain.

I tried to move my body, but the sound of glass shifting under me made me halt. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim light and the stench of alcohol and misery. It didn't take me long before I realized that I was lying on the cold hard floor of the living room, with shards of broken glass all over the floor.

My father...

He had been home last night...

'You little whore!' My father's voice sounded in my ears, loud and heavily slurred, an empty bottle of whisky in his hands. 'Where is the money? I know you work at that stupid restaurant! Give me the money!'

'I don't have any money,' I had whimpered, trying to put on a brave front, but we both knew it was all a façade.

'Liar!' he had bellowed as he had shoved me hard on the chest, the impact had sent me crashing to the floor. 'Don't you dare lie to your father, you bitch!'

'I'm not lying, I promise!' At that point, I hadn't been able to stop him as he hauled me up from the floor with a grip on my hair. 'Please! You're hurting me!'

But my words had fallen on deaf ears. 'Turn around.'

'I don't have any money, I swear!' I had insisted despite the way my body had trembled violently from the way he was roughly searching my pockets, my lips trembling uncontrollably until I had bit down on them hard enough to draw blood. But that hadn't stopped him from ransacking my room, without caring about my privacy.

He had found the money, inside the mattress cover, a total of thirty five dollars that I had gotten as a tip from the restaurant after hours of standing on my feet.

'You fucking liar!' This time, I hadn't seen the bottle coming down on me.

But I had felt the impact of the glass on the back of my head; heard it shatter on contact. My head spun; went numb from the pain as black spots danced before my eyes.

He had thrown the half-broken bottle on the floor next to me, making me flinch, as if he hadn't just abused his only daughter. And then he had stridden out of the house, taking my week's worth of savings with him, not caring that me and his little son wouldn't have anything to eat the rest of the week.

Now, I blinked the grogginess away and placed a hand on the top of my head, holding back a scream of agony when I felt the pain spike as if a needle had been drilled into my skull.

Tears streamed down my face as I sat up on the floor, looking at the mess all