“Ugh, you’re so pathetic, I swear,” my twin sister, Alison, said from a distance after I clumsily hit the side of a table causing two wine glasses to fall to the ground and shatter, the sound echoing loudly in the early evening calm, drawing a few glances from nearby guests. “I honestly have no idea why Father keeps you around. You belong in the streets. So razz.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly just as she neared me, lowering my eyes because I had to remember that she was my better. Father said so. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You better.” The disgust in her tone was evident and I recoiled. I had no idea why she hated me even though I’d done my best for us to get along. For some reason, she seemed to think whatever I had was contagious and she stayed away from me as much as she could, only talking to me if absolutely necessary. We were the most unalike twins ever.

“Here.”

She held out her hand and when I glanced up, it was a cup.

“Your medicine.”

I reached forward to take it, throwing my head back and gulping down the foul-smelling liquid. Alison said I’d had a terrible disease when I was younger and Father spent a lot of money making sure my medicine was available so I didn’t die. I didn’t remember said disease, however, and since she was the same age as me, I didn’t see how she remembered it but it was one of the few times she talked to me and so I gladly humored her.

“Thank you,” I said, my gaze on the ground.

“Whatever.”

After she turned and walked away, I lowered myself to the ground and began to pick up the broken shards of glass. As an Omega in the strongest werewolf park in the world, especially one who couldn’t transform, I was, quite frankly, the outcast. The one person nobody could get rid of, and so resulted in being the pack’s errand girl. Never mind that my father was second in command—Beta. I winced as a thick shard cut into my skin, causing blood to rise and spill. Lifting my finger to my lips, I sucked on the skin.

Tonight’s celebration was going to be a success. I made sure of it. Father was going to be proud of me. I and the other Omegas had been tasked with the preparations. The decorations had already been set and the food was ready. The pack home’s garden looked almost surreal under the lights. The event was to celebrate the Alpha’s four-year anniversary victory over his evil and malicious older brother, who’d sought to kill him and destroy their pack.

Everyone knew the story of how our Alpha fought bravely and took the pack back from his power-hungry brother before banishing him. No one knew what became of said brother. I’d only been eighteen when the war happened and Father had only recently begun letting me out of the house.

Satisfied that the pain had reduced, I gathered the shards and dumped them into a thrash.

“We’re ready,” another Omega, Jane, said to me. Then she looked me up and down. “Aren’t you going to change?”

I stared down at my knee-length gown that was frayed at the ends and my worn-out boots. It was the best dress I owned. I looked back at her own sky-blue dress that flowed to the ground, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I am.”

Jane looked unconvinced. “You look like Cinderella when she was a maid. Don’t you have anything better to wear? What about your sister? Can’t you borrow one of her dresses?”

“You know I can’t touch Alison’s things. She’ll kill me if she finds out.”

“I still don’t get it. Are you sure you’re twins? You both look nothing alike and you even act different. She’s cold and manipulative but at least she’s bold. Whereas you are…”

I tried to hide it but the words stung. Jane didn’t need to complete her sentence; I was weak. I couldn’t fight back or defend myself because I didn’t know how to. Years of living with my father and sister had turned me into a puddled mess of low self-esteem. I was a twenty-two-year-old wolf who hadn’t transformed one day in my life. Alison was right; I was pathetic.

Then the event was starting and whatever response I had died away in my throat. I looked up to see my father climb to the make-up stage he’d specifically asked me to construct because he wanted to shine. The rest of the Crest pack gathered and in less than two minutes, the garden was full.

“Good evening, everyone,” my father said, his deep voice echoing. “Thank you all for gathering here tonight to celebrate the anniversary of our beloved pack’s victory against those who wished to end it. My name is Robert Shelby, your Beta, and I’m proud to say one of my daughters was in charge of making certain today was a success.”

I smiled. He was finally going to see I wasn’t useless like he thought. That I could actually get something right.

“Of course,” he continued, a wide smile on his face and a gleam in his eyes, “I have two daughters. While one is concerned with being a strong wolf and bringing pride to the family name, the other is more interested in blowing balloons and hanging lanterns.”

The crowd burst out laughing and I exhaled deeply, my eyes stinging. I would not cry. This wasn’t anything I’d never heard before. My father’s favorite pastime was making a mockery of me. But when I looked up and every eye was turned to me, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

The laughter increased. Just like I’d always done, I told myself that it was just a harmless joke and my reaction to it wasn’t my father’s fault. So, I wiped my tears, turned and headed for the food stand to join the other Omega. That was my place.

“Wow,” Jane said once I reached her, her eyes full of pity. “Your father’s a real jerk.”

I gave her a stern look. “Don’t.”

She seemed to understand my meaning because she let it go. After that incident, things were relatively calm. I received some comments about how I should drop dead so at least I’d do something right but other than that, everything was calm. The food was amazing and the pack was having a good time. Despite whatever my father and sister thought, it felt good to be a part of the pack in some other way that wasn’t being made fun of.

It was going too well, in fact. I supposed I shouldn’t have been too surprised when disaster struck. Sounds of distress began to echo amongst the crowd and then finally the smell of smoke reached my nostrils. My heart picked up a beat. What was happening?

“Someone started a fire,” Jane said, running towards me frantically. “The decorations are on fire!”

Shit. People began to run, screaming as the fiery decorations fell from above to the chairs and tables covered with tablecloths and they too caught fire. It was pure chaos. Oh, God. My father was going to kill me. He’d never let me out of the house again.

Whoever had started the fire had done so purposefully; wolves hated fire. I was doomed. “Oh, God,” I whimpered, watching in horror as angry flame ate through the garden like a hungry beast. Even the beautiful flowers weren’t spared.

“Hmm,” Alison said, suddenly appearing by my side, arms crossed under her breasts and a speculative grin on her lips. “What do you think Father will do to you as punishment? Throw you out or lock you up?”

And then I knew. It was her.

I didn’t have time to respond because the next thing I heard was a smack. In fact, I heard the loud smacking sound before I felt its effect on my face. Gasping in both pain and shock, I held my cheek, my eyes watering and spilling down my face in one swift movement.

“What have you done?” a voice thundered. Though my ears were ringing from the slap, I recognized my father’s angry voice fighting its way to the surface. “You had one job! Just one and you chose to burn down our pack house? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

I could still hear the distressed shrieking of the wolves as the chaos went on around us. I kept my eyes on the ground out of respect for him. “It wasn’t me, Father. I swear. I don’t know…” I cried, feeling a banging at the back of my head.

“I let you out of the house so you can be more like your sister, you useless pathetic swine,” he went on, cutting me with his words. All I could think was why didn’t he love me? Why did he hate me so much? “It turned out to be a mistake, obviously. My reputation is in the mud now.”

“Dad, please,” I cried, my eyes on the ground. Father had told me so many times to never look him in the eye because I wasn’t worthy. I longed to now, to reach out to and touch him so he could see that I was really sorry. But I didn’t, otherwise, he would’ve slapped me again and I was still reeling from the first time. “I promise I’ll do better. Please give me another chance.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d taken the fault for one of Alison’s stunts. I was used to it. Trying to explain was a waste of time. Once something went wrong, I was the one who’d done it, regardless of whether it was true or not.

“Another chance?” he echoed in disgust. “I don’t think so. You’re to clean this entire garden up. Alone. I don’t care how you do it, you foolish girl. Wash it, mop it, clean it however you like. You are not to leave until this garden is sparkling. Otherwise, I will really kill you this time. Stupid girl.”

He swung on his feet and walked away, and all I could see was his boot-clad feet hitting against the tiled stone ground. The tears fell with an alarming intensity, not because I’d been slapped but because once more, my father had proven to me just how much he hated me.

“Aww,” Alison cooed from beside me. “Tough love, Arya. Wipe those crocodile tears off your face before I do it for you, you fool. This is what happens when you try to bite the hand that feeds you.”

I’d forgotten she was there. Anger filled me at her sheer wickedness. “How could you do that to me, Alison? I’m your sister.”

I couldn’t see her face but I felt her recoil at my words. “And you don’t know how much I hate that. I detest you. I wish you’d never been born.”

By the time she walked away, I noticed how quiet it was, the only sound was the soft crisping burning of fabric. Tears formed a thick lump in my throat and my knees gave way, pulling me to the ground as I let out a cry. The past twenty-two years of my life had been spent in agony. I couldn’t recall one time when I’d truly been happy. My father and twin sister made life hard for me and from the moment I could form coherent thoughts, I didn’t understand why. They hated me so much. What had I done? I was only a child.

I couldn’t remember much of my mother. Father said she’d died a few months after our birth. Sometimes it felt like he blamed me for her death even though Alison and I were twins and it wasn’t plausible that I’d been the one to kill her.

Here at the Crest Pack, my father treated me like the shit underneath his boot. No one respected me. I clutched my chest as I wheezed in pain, the weight of my tears almost blinding me. No one cared that my father held the second highest rank in the pack as Beta. Even the Alpha had said he hadn’t known Father had a second daughter. I was ridiculed and laughed at, sometimes even harassed by some of the men.

Alison was the decorated child. The one everyone loved and thought was amazing. We looked nothing alike. I had sandy blond hair, a straight thin nose and eyes the color of the ocean. Alison, on the other hand, had jet-black hair, a long nose, gray eyes and thin lips that always curled in disgust when I was near. She was also stick-thin and tall, whereas I had a little flesh on my body and was shorter.

My twin sister never failed to call me fat. She said I looked like a stuffed turkey and needed to lose some weight. Because of her, I’d struggled with body dystrophia and had proceeded to starve myself. A fruitless venture, because all it’d done was weaken me and almost landed me in the hospital.

Still, I’d tried. To please her, to please them both. Somehow it seemed like everything I did ended up backfiring and causing more problems. Eventually, I’d accepted my fate and came to terms with the fact that they wouldn’t love me no matter what I did. I’d settled for being the black sheep of our family.

It’d been a while since Father hit me. When I was locked at home, it was a frequent occurrence. However, in the past four years I’d been out, the beatings came once or twice a month when he was not able to contain his anger.

I was aware my self-esteem was below hell. My family had spent so much time convincing me that I was worthless and pathetic that I now believed them. I was worthless and pathetic. I couldn’t stand up for myself or even talk back to Alison. It was pitiable.

Swiping underneath my eyes, I got to my feet and began to pack up the silverware and crystal glasses into a carton. Like always, I would break down for a moment and then I would pick myself back up. There was nothing in the future for me except this life. The sooner I accepted that, the better for me.

Father said I couldn’t leave until I was finished with cleaning. My bones were tired and my legs ached. I hadn’t gotten any sleep in eighteen hours because of the preparations and all I wanted to do was lie down and drift off.

Not for the first time, I contemplated just ending it all. But something kept holding me back. Something strong. It gnawed at the back of my head like a mantra and ate at my subconscious. It told me that there was more to life than this and all I had to do to get there was to stay alive and keep my head up.