My mates are queens!?

The biting wind whipped through the tattered clothes Alex wore, each gust a fresh stab of cold against her bruised skin. Rain lashed down, a relentless assault, as she lay immobile in the mud, every inch of her body screaming in agony.

Her vision blurred, the dark, churning sky overhead a cruel mockery of her bleak existence. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth, a constant reminder of the recent brutal beating. She was an Omega, weak, disposable, and utterly alone in this storm.

Her fingers and toes had long gone numb, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran through her. She was certain she was going to be sick, again. Just like when she was a child, constantly ill, constantly longing for the gentle touch of her mother who was no longer there.

No one cared here. Not her abusive step-father, not the cruel Alpha's son, not anyone in this cursed pack. She was just a punching bag, a convenient outlet for their rage. A tear, cold and unnoticed, tracked a path through the grime on her cheek, mingling with the rain and blood.