Chapter 2
I prided myself on being ruthless, devoid of any sentimentality.
At seven years old.
I lured my gambling-addicted father to the pack’s underground betting den.
I egged him on to bet again and again, losing more and more until he was drowning in debt.
Then I watched as the enforcers broke both his legs, satisfied with the outcome.
At ten.
My mother found him on the street, reeking of filth, barely clinging to life.
Her eyes met mine, filled with terror and fear.
By eleven.
She saw me crush the hand of the boy next door, her face pale with horror.
I held the stray wolf pup I’d adopted, my voice calm.
“He broke the pup’s leg, so I broke his hand. Fair, isn’t it?”
That’s when she decided to sell me.
For fifty coins, she sold me to a widower in the neighboring pack, a man in his forties.
She tied me up, but I twisted her arms and pinned her down.
Her eyes widened in panic as I kicked over the candle by the window.
The flames roared, the smoke thick and suffocating.
I walked out of the fire, holding the pup and clutching the fifty coins.
At twelve, I saw a dress I wanted.
The shopkeeper offered it to me in exchange for one night with him.
I smirked. “Deal.”
The next day, he was found buried under piles of clothes, suffocated to death.
By fourteen.
My beauty had blossomed, striking and undeniable.
Low-ranking males swarmed around me like flies.
Some promised to make me their mate, others brought jewels to claim me as their chosen mate.
It was nauseating.
I was stunning, and my ambitions soared higher than their pathetic lives.
I was meant for power, for the high ranks of the pack.
If I wanted something, I always got it.
Born an Omega, the path to power was steep.
So I decided to create my own.
Among the struggling pack members, I chose Eduardo Brown.
He topped every pack trial, his intelligence undeniable.
He was handsome, upright, and steadfast despite his humble origins.
Not one of those pretentious, empty-headed fools.
He was perfect.
So I played the part, hiding my sharp edges, feigning gentleness and fragility.
I “accidentally” fell into the river, letting him save me, letting him fall for me.
We became mates, and for three years, I was the perfect partner, attentive and devoted.
He passed the pack’s trials, rising to become a high-ranking Beta, while I carried his pup.
He had ascended, and I had my plans.
When he returned home, I handed him a glass of wine laced with a potion to render him infertile.
Even if he strayed, my pup would be his only heir.
I thought I was merciless.
But I underestimated him—the man who couldn’t even kill a chicken.
The river’s current was fierce, pulling me under, but my hatred burned stronger.
I should have poisoned him with more than just the infertility potion.
I should have added venom, ended his worthless life then and there.
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