AGONY

Celine's POV

Plates clattered to the ground, the sound reverberating through the kitchen like an ominous drumbeat. The kettle hissed angrily, steam billowing from its spout, mirroring the turmoil churning in my stomach. Anxiety was a familiar companion, but today it surged with unprecedented force, threatening to overwhelm me.

I had always harbored a sliver of hope that I could avoid moments like these, but deep down, I knew the inevitable tide of stress would wash over me eventually. My gaze lingered on the simmering pot of soup, silently beseeching the moon goddess for mercy. It was a late morning, the sun already high in the sky by the time I managed to drag myself out of bed. A quick glance at the wristwatch, a relic from my late mother, filled me with dread. If Alpha Adrian caught wind of my tardiness, I would surely face his wrath.

As an Omega in the Silver Line pack, I was accustomed to bearing the blame for even the smallest mishaps. It was a burden I had grown accustomed to, though it weighed heavily on both me and my wolf, Jedah. The weight of expectation bore down on my shoulders, threatening to crush me beneath its relentless pressure.

With trembling hands, I hastily prepared two plates, carefully ladling the soup before extinguishing the gas stove with a sigh of relief. The Silver Line pack was seldom quiet, but today seemed eerily still, the absence of the usual bustle amplifying my anxiety. Everyone had gone to attend the school event, an occasion I should have been a part of if not for my current predicament.

The sound of approaching footsteps shattered the uneasy silence, sending a fresh wave of panic coursing through my veins. I prayed fervently that it was one of the pack soldiers, come to alleviate my mounting anxiety.

"Once again, you've chosen to be lazy, huh?" The voice sliced through the air like a razor-sharp blade, and I knew my worst nightmare had materialized. Slowly, I turned to face him, heart hammering against my ribs, beads of sweat forming on my brow as I met the steely gaze of Alpha Adrian.

He stood before me, a picture of calm authority, though the anger simmering beneath the surface was unmistakable. My throat constricted, rendering me speechless in the face of his palpable displeasure.

"I'm sorry, sir," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper, throat tight with fear. "I-I had a slight headache."

I watched as he approached, his every step a silent reminder of his dominance. I dared not meet his gaze, for fear of inviting further retribution upon myself. His presence loomed over me, a tangible force that left me feeling small and insignificant.

"What is my number one rule?" His voice was a low rumble, sending shivers down my spine as he leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear.

"Laziness is not tolerated," I replied, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

"And what happens when you break that rule?" His words hung heavy in the air, the threat of punishment looming large.

The answer was already etched into my mind, a grim reminder of the consequences of my failure. But I dared not speak it aloud, for fear of inviting further wrath upon myself.

"I-I'm sorry, Alpha," I stammered, tears welling in my eyes. "I swear, I'll do better."

But my pleas fell on deaf ears as he seized me roughly by the hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. The weight of his disappointment bore down on me like a leaden cloak, suffocating me with its intensity.

"Do you know what you are?" His voice was a low growl, filled with barely restrained fury. "You are worthless, hopeless, and above all, useless."

His words cut me to the core, each syllable a dagger in my heart. But I knew better than to protest, for defiance would only invite further punishment upon myself.

"The only reason you're still here is because of the legacy your parents left behind," he spat, his grip tightening on my hair until it felt like my scalp would tear.

With a sudden jerk, he slammed my head against the wall, the impact sending shockwaves of pain radiating through my skull. I crumpled to the ground, clutching my throbbing head as he loomed over me, a menacing shadow against the wall.

"Get up!" His voice was a thunderous roar, echoing off the walls of the kitchen as he delivered a swift kick to my stomach. "And don't let me catch you slacking off again."

I struggled to my feet, every movement sending waves of agony coursing through my battered body. With trembling hands, I placed the plates of soup on a tray, careful not to spill a single drop as I made my escape.

As I stepped out of the kitchen, I was met with disdainful glares from the passing pack soldiers, their silent judgment a bitter reminder of my lowly status within the pack. All my life, I had been subjected to their scorn, their hatred a constant presence in my daily existence.

But amidst the sea of contemptuous stares, there was one beacon of kindness: the pack doctor. He alone had shown me compassion, offering solace in the midst of my suffering.

With a heavy heart, I made my way to Alpha Adrian's chambers, each step a painful reminder of my own inadequacy. I prayed silently to the moon goddess for strength, for courage to endure whatever punishment awaited me within those walls.

"Enter," his voice commanded, and I pushed open the door, steeling myself for the ordeal to come.

The sight that greeted me was all too familiar: the opulent furnishings, the air heavy with the scent of power and authority. I set the tray down with trembling hands, avoiding his gaze as I made my escape.

Back in the kitchen, Jedah's mournful howls echoed my own inner turmoil, a constant reminder of my failings. I searched frantically for the source of my mistake, cursing my own incompetence.

And then it hit me like a bolt of lightning: I had forgotten the salt.

Alpha Adrian's furious summons jolted me back to reality, my heart pounding in my chest as I braced myself for the inevitable confrontation.

"What is this?" His voice was a thunderous boom, filling the room with its intensity as he gestured to the soup.

I swallowed hard, the taste of fear bitter on my tongue, as I approached the table with trembling limbs.

"Come and have a taste of your handiwork," he demanded, his eyes boring into mine with unbridled fury.

With shaking hands, I lifted the spoon to my lips, the soup bland and tasteless against my tongue. And then came the blow, swift and merciless, a punishment for my failure to meet his exacting standards.

"You made soup without salt!" he bellowed, the sound reverberating through the room like a death knell.