Eliza POV:
My bedroom was a garage.
The maid had dragged me here last night. It smelled of oil, cold metal, and old tires. There was no bed, just a pile of rags in the corner.
"Stay here," the maid had said, wrinkling her nose. "The Alpha doesn't want you inside the main house until you're clean."
I was so hungry. My stomach felt like it was eating itself. I hadn't had real food in days.
Morning light filtered through the dusty windows. I heard movement outside. A man came in with a high-pressure hose.
"Stand up," he barked.
I stood, shivering in my thin, dirty rags.
"Strip," he ordered.
I hesitated. I was eight, but I knew shame. The man didn't wait. He turned on the hose.
The water hit me like a physical blow. It was freezing, icy needles piercing my skin. I gasped, falling to my knees on the concrete.
"Scrub!" he yelled, throwing a stiff-bristled brush at me. "Get that Rogue filth off you!"
I scrubbed. I scrubbed until my skin turned red, then raw, then bled. The water mixed with pink swirls of my blood on the floor. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, the chemical smell of the Wolfsbane-the poison Burt had soaked me in for years to hide my lineage-clung to my pores. It was seeped into my very marrow.
After the man left, I put on a gray servant's dress they had tossed at me. It was too big.
I wandered toward the house, drawn by a smell. Food.
I found the kitchen. It was enormous, filled with stainless steel and the aroma of roasting meat. My mouth watered.
Then I smelled something else. Peanuts.
Panic flared in my chest. My throat felt tight just smelling it. I remembered Burt giving me a peanut butter cracker once, and my throat had closed up until I passed out. He had laughed and said I was defective.
I saw a chef crushing peanuts onto a salad. He was about to serve it.
"No!" I ran forward. "Don't! It's poison!"
I didn't know if anyone else was allergic. I just knew it was bad. I tried to grab the bowl.
"Get away, you little rat!"
The chef, a burly Beta, didn't see a child trying to help. He saw a dirty, smelly beggar trying to steal food.
He shoved me hard.
I flew backward, crashing into a metal prep table. My skin sizzled where it touched the table. Silver. The table had silver inlays.
"Ahhh!" I screamed. Silver burns were agonizing for wolves. It felt like a hot iron branding my skin.
The butler, a tall man named Abernathy, walked in. He looked at me writhing on the floor, then at the chef.
"She tried to steal the Alpha's lunch," the chef lied.
"I didn't!" I wheezed, clutching my burning side. "The nuts... poison..."
Abernathy sneered. "No one in the Moon Shadow Pack has a peanut allergy, girl. Stop lying for attention."
He gestured to the door. "Get out. You are not allowed in the kitchen."
That night, I sat outside on the cold stone patio. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, I could see the dining room.
A crystal chandelier hung above a long mahogany table. My father, Derek, sat at the head. My mother, Nora, sat to his right. And across from them sat Kylie.
They were eating steak. Thick, juicy steaks. Kylie was laughing, telling a story. My mother was smiling at her-a soft, loving smile I had never seen directed at me. My father was cutting Kylie's meat for her.
My wolf whimpered inside me. It was a sound of pure heartbreak. That is our pack, she cried. Why are we outside?
I was starving. The hunger was a sharp pain, twisting my insides.
I saw a maid carry a trash bag out the side door. She dumped it into a large bin.
I waited until she went back inside. Then, I crept over. I was the Alpha's daughter, but I was digging through garbage like a rat.
I found a beef bone. It was cold and covered in coffee grounds, but it had meat on it. I gnawed on it frantically, swallowing chunks of gristle and fat.
My stomach, shrunken from years of starvation, couldn't handle the rich, spoiled fat.
Ten minutes later, I was curled up on the lawn, retching violently. My body convulsed, rejecting the garbage.
The patio door slid open. Light flooded the grass.
"What is that noise?" Nora's voice was shrill. "Derek, make it stop! It sounds like a dying animal!"
The Pack Doctor stepped out, followed by my father. The doctor looked at the vomit and the bone.
"Gluttony," the doctor pronounced, looking at me with disdain. "She gorged herself until she got sick. Typical Rogue behavior. No self-control."
Nora appeared behind Derek. She looked at me, trembling on the grass, covered in vomit.
"She's disgusting," Nora whispered. "She's a monster. I can't sleep with that creature near my house."
Derek stepped onto the grass. His eyes were glowing a menacing amber-his wolf was near the surface.
"Eliza," he said. He used the Alpha Voice. It hit me like a physical weight, pinning me to the vomit-covered ground.
"You are a stain on this family," he growled. "You have one warning. Stay out of sight. If you disturb your Luna's recovery again, you won't just be sleeping in the garage. I'll put you in the cells where you belong."
