Lucky? No! I Don't Wanna Be Uncle Alpha's Second Mate

Lesley's POV

Amanda cried. A LOT! I did the best I could to console her – because: friendship, bitches! – and I even did it without pulling the "I fucking told you so!"-card. Because I fucking told her so! But I think she learned her lesson and there was no reason to rub it anymore in her face.

A very, very long while later, she had fallen asleep and I snuck out of her room. Downstairs I ran into her father, Adrian. He was a pack warrior – very much respected back in my father's days – but now, like most of the pack warriors, he'd lost his pride in being a warrior, as he didn't see it very honorable to kill women and children. Anyone who trespassed - man, woman, or child - was killed. And anyone – even pack members! – who disrespected the alpha, were harshly punished. How I'd stayed alive for so long, I have no idea--- or rather, I knew, but I was in denial.!

"Thank you for sticking up for her," he whispered, sounding just as dead inside as he looked on the outside. "I know it couldn't have been easy."

"It's fine," I answered with a slight smile. "How's Doris?"

Doris was Amanda's mother and Adrian's mate. She was a funny, outgoing, and all-around fantastic person to be around. But a feminist to the bone. Hence why she didn't mind her daughter satisfying her needs. You know: "if boys can, girls can"- sort of argument. Now she was sick, but because she was a rank 3 pack member – a rank system that my uncle had made up – she wasn't allowed to get treatment from the pack healer.

"She has good days and bad days," he answered honestly, treating me more like an adult than a teenager, and forcing his frown into a small, tired smile. "But as long as there's life, there's hope, right?"

He asked because he knew I'd do everything in my power to help--- unlike the actual Luna of this pack. I'd been doing this for as long as I could remember. I would follow my mother around and ask the same questions she did and by the time I was 8, I knew every single member of this pack. Their background, their family, and their stories. My dad used to say, that I was too young and that I should play more. But mom wouldn't hear a word of it. She thought it was good for my development that I got to know the pack. I happened to agree. And being daddy's girl, all I had to do was just bat my lashes at him, and he would agree to everything I said with a huge smile on his face.

Once they passed, I continued doing what needed to be done.

"She'll pull through, I'm sure of it," I answered smiling a little more sincerely, knowing I had a smile that could cure cancer – or so they said! "Besides, Tanja is coming home next week! I'll make sure she'll come by to look in on you guys."

Finally, his smile turned sincere and there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Tanja was a healer in training, but she was doing her training in a neighboring pack, visiting her home once or twice a month. And while the old pack healer didn't dare to go against our alpha's orders, Tanja lurked around the pack at night, doing what she could for the lower-ranking members.

Adrian nodded and followed me to the door, bidding me good night. I did the right thing as said good night back, but there was no way in hell I was going to have a good night. Remember? I'd mutilated the alpha's son? If the visit to the Principal's office was bad, it paled in comparison to what my uncle had planned for me.

"So," my uncle said softly, poison dripping from every word, and the threat to my life was very real. "You think you can attack my children and get away with it?"

I knew I was in trouble! My heart was racing, and my hands got sticky. I honestly felt sick.

What? You thought I was some superhuman? I wasn't! I sometimes got so scared, that my stomach felt like a rock. I felt embarrassed and humiliated to the point where I wanted to cry and die! And I sometimes felt so weak and broken, that I honestly believed I would never be whole again. Even my wolf cowered away in the back of my mind. Broken, like everything else about me. She didn't speak to me and sometimes I barely felt her there. Even my wolf knew. I was worthless, useless, and unwanted. I sometimes wished my uncle would just kill me and end my suffering. But my punishment was my uncle's favorite entertainment.

I stood with crossed arms and avoided his gaze. And of course, put up my brave face. I knew what was going to happen next, but there was no way in hell I was going to give this pig the pleasure of knowing how I was fucking freaking out on the inside.

You see--- I was 10 when my father died. Before my wolf appeared. I moved into the packhouse attic, with the other two omegas – both males in their early 20's back then. They'd been pack warriors and outright blamed my uncle for killing my brother, so my uncle turned them into Omegas. You'll need to remember them later.

From time to time, my uncle would call me down from the attic. Often late at night and when most people in the house were asleep. I was too young to work so I was just going to school and doing my homework during the day. But at night he told me, I had to earn my living in the pack. He feed me, cloth me, gave me a home – MY home I might add! – and now I had to give something back.

I don't remember the first time so well. I cried and he told me to shut the fuck up, before beating me multiple times. But I do remember the routine. I would get called down from the attic and told to meet him in the guest bedroom. He would always be sitting on the bed, so he was the first thing I saw when I got through the door.

He would tell me to lock it.

I did that.

Then to take off all my clothes.

I did that.

He would look at me for a long time. Enough for me to start shivering from the cold. And even then, he would just smirk and watch me some more. When enough time had passed, he would call me over to sit next to him.

I also did that.

It was warm sitting next to him, but I would still shiver, knowing what would come next.

He grabbed my waist and placed me on my back in the center of the bed. My hands over my head and legs spread. Then he would be looking again. He would touch me. His touch sent cold shivers through my entire body, making me feel sick. Then he would get undressed himself and lie next to me. For some reason, he'd always whisper his mate's name in my ear. Saying sweet things about her. I guess he wanted me to be her, now that she was old and saggy. And – oh yeah! – in a wheelchair! She'd had a skiing accident 6 years ago that severed her spine, making her paralyzed from the waist down. I guess when my uncle didn't get to satisfy his need with her, he settled for me. Like I could replace her.

But I couldn't.

I was just a girl with a naked, grown-ass man on top of me.

The first time I could barely walk when I got back to the attic. I laid down, sobbing. A snarl from one of the sleeping warriors to "shut up" and I immediately closed my mouth, scared to enrage them too. But to my surprise, the other one got up and came over to me. Sitting across from me, I could see his dark eyes in the sparse moonlight coming from the loft window.

"Hey, little one," he said with a soft smile and laid down next to me. He reached out his hand and pulled a stray hair out of my face, revealing my pink eye and swollen cheek. "Did he hurt you?"

"Yes," I nodded in a barely audible whisper. He sighed.

"Listen, if you want to survive, then don't let them know, that they got to you," he informed me, every single one of his words stinging like knives in my heart. "Never let them see, that they hurt you. Never let them see you sad or cry. Never let them know, they broke you." He tucked me in and held me close to his chest; feeling the warmth of his body, made me stop shivering for a while.

"That's how you'll survive as an Omega."

That's when something inside me snapped. My heart was hurting so bad and I felt like everything good had left my body and I would never be happy again. Perhaps – in a way – that was true. The only way I would survive this feeling was to pretend, it wasn't there.

I laid down and pretended that it hadn't happened. That I wasn't hurting. That the pain wasn't real.

And in the end, I got very good at that.

I later learned, that the omega's name was Dean and for a short while, we were friends. He looked out for me. In time we became more than friends actually. Dean became like a brother to me. Snuck food and water to me, when I was being punished. Took the blame for things that were really my fault... He was the second son of our old beta and before his rank was taken, he'd been one of the strongest warriors in the Highland pack. But he never complained about being an omega. He'd tell me over and over again, that a warrior's job was to protect the alpha bloodline and that meant me. He'd always treat me kindly and fairly. Cleaning me up, every time I'd had a bad beating or Uncle Harry had been too rough; reminding me to not let it show. Had I'd seen Frozen at this time I would be able to relate!

The best he did for me though, was when he secretly taught me self-defense. That's who I ever stood a chance against a big bully like Trevor! Everything I knew about kicking ass, Dean taught me. And honestly, I loved him for it!

That's until 2 years ago.