The Alpha's Mate Is The Kitchen Girl

Draka's pov

"Faster, dummy! Wash all my clothes and make sure that my shoes are sparkling like diamonds!" Claire yells as she drives her knee into my stomach.

I fall into the stream, the throbbing pain from her kick causes my eyes to sting with tears. She is the lowest member of this pack, but even she has more power than I can ever imagine.

She was a mere human until one year ago, but she is bullying me, even though I was born a pure breed.

The difference between her and I is the fact that she has a wolf now, and I don't. I never got my wolf, even after my sixteenth birthday.

That's why I'm the laughingstock of the pack. I cook and clean for all of them in exchange for the protection of the Alpha and Luna of my pack.

I know that it's dangerous out in the thick woods. I will not last a day if those notorious hunters get me...

I pick myself out of the water, not minding that Claire and her friends are laughing at me as they happily stroll back to the pack house.

I am working as far as I can, because I want to be done before the sun goes down. I know that a wolfless girl won't be able to survive when the bad creatures comes out with the darkness...

I also need to cook for the pack, Luna Denise will have my head if food isn't made in time.

"Wash faster, slave! That's all you are good for!" someone yells from a distance.

"She doesn't have a family, a mate, or even a wolf. She must be cursed to be this unfortunate."

I scrub even harder till I'm done with the clothes. I run all the way back to the pack house and set to cooking immediately.

My hands are shaking with fatigue, but that doesn't stop me from cutting up the mushrooms and vegetables at a great speed. The pot of soup is boiling now, and only then do I let myself slide to the floor and take a deep breath of relief.

Luna Denise walks into the kitchen, her clicking shoes sends me into panic mode.

I quickly get on my feet and bow deeply to her. I avoid eye contact because I know that she dislike people holding her gaze. I found out the hard way, and at the ripe age of ten.

"Good evening, Luna." I greet her.

She doesn't bother to answer, but that's not what's on my mind right now. I hand her a spoon and stand a few distance from her as she takes a taste.

I am a great cook, but each time she tastes my food, I am holding my breath. I remember when I slept off and forgot that I added salt already to my soup. It was too salty and she threw the whole pot of boiling soup at me.

She clicks her tongue a few