Dumped Omega? Now Their Alpha King Begs at My Feet novel Chapter 2

Valerie's POV

My room was basically a closet in the basement. It had a small cot with a mattress as thin as a pancake, one bare lightbulb hanging from a wire, and damp, cinderblock walls that smelled of mildew. It didn't take long to pack because I owned almost nothing.

I had a couple of old, faded t-shirts and one pair of jeans with a patch on the knee. That was it for clothes. My real treasures were the things I kept hidden under a loose floorboard. I laid them carefully on the cot's thin blanket: three beat-up, ancient-looking medical books with cracked leather covers, and a dozen small cloth bags I'd stitched myself, each filled with different dried herbs.

I opened one, and the sharp, clean scent of wolfsbane filled the small space. I had nightshade for pain, silver moss for infections. These were my inheritance, passed down from my real mother, the only things I had of her. They were more important to me than all the Blackwoods' money and tacky jewelry. They were real power.

The door flew open and slammed against the wall, making the bare bulb flicker. No knock, of course. Privacy was a privilege I wasn't allowed.

Brenda leaned in the doorway with a smug smirk on her perfect face. She wore a silk robe that probably cost more than everything I owned combined. She stared at my small pile of stuff like it was a pile of garbage.

"Is that really all you have? How pathetic," she sneered. Then her eyes landed on my books and herbs. "And what's that junk? You smell like dirt." She wrinkled her nose.

"Forget something?" she asked, her voice syrupy sweet.

She held up a silver locket, dangling it from her long, manicured fingers. It swung back and forth like a hypnotist's watch. It was the so-called Black Moon heirloom, a piece of junk they acted like was the crown jewels.

"It must have ‘fallen' into your bag," she said, her eyes glittering with malice. "How clumsy of you, Valerie. Trying to take a little souvenir?"

Before I could say anything, she screamed, a high-pitched, dramatic sound. "Father! Come quick! She was trying to steal the heirloom! The little thief was trying to steal from us after everything we've done for her!"

Footsteps pounded down the hall. In seconds, Marcus, his wife, and a few other senior pack members were crowded in the doorway. They all looked furious, like they'd practiced it in a mirror, ready to tear into me one last time.

The accusation hung in the stale, mildewed air. Theft. A serious crime. They could exile me for that, leave me in the wild with nothing. It was a death sentence, and they knew it.

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