The ache in Olivia's bones was a constant companion, a dull throb that had been her reality for as long as she could remember. Another day, another torrent of abuse. Hot coffee scalded her skin, a thrown hash brown splattered her face, but she just kept walking, muttering to herself, "Just keep walking, Livs. Just keep walking."

Her next task: cleaning the pack's tiny clinic. But as she rushed through the corridor, a violent yank on her hair sent her sprawling. Alpha Noah, a sneer twisting his face, dragged her by her scalp towards the kitchen. Someone had spilled milk on the floor she'd just cleaned. A sharp kick to her ribs sent a fresh wave of agony through her. She whimpered, tears escaping despite her desperate internal plea: "Stay mute, Liv. Stay MUTE."

"Clean this shit up, you lazy mutt!" Noah roared, his words a familiar torment. He slapped her, hard, across the face when she dared to speak. "Shut up. How dare you talk back to me? Do you want to go back to the dungeon?"

Olivia's jaw clenched, her hands fisted. Today was her eighteenth birthday, a day that should have brought celebration, but instead, found her cleaning past hours, the lowest omega in a pack that blamed her for every misfortune.