Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Goldie

Several hours prior

I say nothing as I wash myself off standing in front of the small hanging mirror of our washroom, my face throbbing, my body aching.

The bucket of water my stepmother gave me is tepid, but smells like roses as I scrub at my skin. Part of me is thankful, in this moment, that I own nothing of value. There’s nothing to miss once I’m firmly in Donald’s grasp.

Maybe my mother’s rocking chair, but I haven’t sat in it in years. Stepmother forbade it.

Until half an hour ago, I believed there was still hope. Hope that I might escape this life. Hope that I might become stronger. Braver.

That illusion is gone now, and I’ve got nothing else to live for.

“You will be ready in two hours, or I’ll break your fucking fingers and drag you out of here by your hair,” Talia hisses at me from the doorway. “If you embarrass us, I will make the last eighteen years look heavenly.” My stepmother’s threat is clear. More violence and pain await me if I don’t comply. Her cruel expression does nothing to improve her appearance. The brown hair that hangs limply down her back, and the murky blue eyes flash cruelly at me in satisfaction.

I simply nod at her. I know better than to argue. I take my time cleaning my entire body several times. I have nothing better to do.

I’m in a daze as I dry myself off with a thin towel. Brushing my hair with the broken comb that sits on the washing basin, I barely attempt to tame the waves hanging around my face before going through the motions of dressing myself. I don’t care how I look, so I don’t bother looking closely in the mirror.

Surprisingly, though, the dress is pretty. It’s long, and soft, but more revealing than anything I have owned or would have chosen for myself. Probably the nicest thing I’ve worn in my life.

Once I’m finished, I stare out the small bathroom window for a long while, waiting until the last possible moment to face my parents.

As I step into the living area, my father, Patrick, takes in the sight of me. At first, it looks as if his features soften. If only for a second, before they harden once more.

“Omega.” He spits the word out like a curse. Sometimes I remember the man he was, all those years ago. Slightly shorter than the average Alpha, he was once strong and warm. He fiddles with his shirt sleeve as his shoulders tense. His wrinkled skin cracks with scowl lines around his dead brown eyes as he glares. I thought he could love me once. Before my mother died. Now all I see is hatred when he looks at me.

My father nods to his wife and then toward me, refusing to look at me again. I’m dragged out of the house, with a firm grip on my arm. They must think I’ll run. I won’t.

I already failed to make my escape. I won’t try again.

Father trails behind us. His anger and years of pent-up pain turn his scent sour. Stepmother is no better, with her jealousy and venomous hatred making her smell like spoiled milk.

We make it to Donald Poller’s estate in just a few short minutes.

Standing in front of the huge carved door, the disparaging differences between the Poller’s estate and our own three-room house are blatantly clear. The waste of resources on such a large scale makes me queasy. While Donald lives in luxury, there are many in the village who don’t even have enough food to feed their family.

I try to convince myself this won’t be so bad. That I’ll be okay here. Maybe I can use my new status to make a difference in this village. But what happens next sends all those silly hopes scattering in the wind.

“Put her in there, Talia!” I hear Donald snap from where we stand in the doorway. I don’t see him, or the room he gestures to, but my stepmother does. “I want a moment alone with my bride to be.” A shiver travels down my spine at his tone. But what sends fear slithering through my veins is the look on my stepmother’s face as she shoves me into a small drawing room.

“He’s going to rip you apart, Goldie, from the inside out. He’s going to make you bleed…” She hisses the words, punctuating them with a chuckle, before quickly stepping out of the room just as Donald enters.

“You look like a whore…my whore…” Donald snarls, the smile on his face makes my stomach flip. My heart is racing. My skin is sticky with sweat. The terror in my soul grips my heart so tightly that my lungs seize. I stumble backward, desperate to put space between us, but Donald grabs my arms, yanking me into him. “This will be mine in just a few moments. I’ve arranged to have everyone sent home as soon as the ceremony is complete. I want to have my pecker in you before the sun sets!” His laugh is a vile thing, as my body shakes violently. He shoves his hand between my thighs, gripping my most intimate parts, and I yelp. “I’m going to rip you apart with my knot, Omega,” he chuckles at the look of fear on my face, before turning away from me. “The ceremony will start in just a moment, leave her in there,” he says to my stepmother as he steps out of the room. I see the look she shoots at me as the door shuts behind Donald. The idea of him destroying my body excites her.

A soul deep sob escapes my lips as I fall to my knees.

I’d rather die… I would rather fucking die!

The realization hits me harder than my father's fist. I would rather die than become Donald’s whore…

My prior attempt to escape may have failed, but there is no escaping death. I will run, or I will die. There is no other option.

The fear I felt in the forest just two hours ago seems like a silly thing now. A fear I’ve had since my mother's funeral. I was just four years old when I ran off into the forest alone, sobbing over the flowers I stole off her grave.

The monsters came for me then.

I would rather be eaten alive by those monsters than allow Donald access to my body.

I’ve never felt fear this bone deep. A yawning chasm of despair in my soul.

Because even though I spent sixteen years getting my ass beat by the man who contributed to my existence, and the woman he married three days after my mother’s death, they never violated me.

They broke my body time and time again, but they could never reach my mind or my spirit. I know with every fiber of my being that Donald will break me.

He’ll break my body, my mind, and my spirit in one night. With one act.

Frantically, I search the room for a weapon. Other than the gaudy couch and chairs, there’s nothing to defend myself with. I have to act fast, or I’m doomed.

Rushing to the large window, I tug the wrought iron handle, shocked to find it opens easily. Fools…leaving me alone in here… Maybe they believe they’ll catch me if I run.

They might have, but I have something they don’t. A loyal companion.

“I will not be prey,” I say with a shaking voice that betrays the fear I still feel. My heart races more furiously, and my breaths become thin. Fuck…

This is the first time I’ve ever truly dared defy my fate. I’ve always been too afraid to stand up for myself. If they kicked me out, I’d have nowhere to go. But now my fear of what's waiting for me at that altar is much greater than my fear of the unknown.

My fear of the forest. Of the stories I’ve been told about what lurks in its depths.

But death isn’t the worst fate for an Omega in this world.

As the window finally opens far enough for me to slip through, I send a silent thanks to my mother for passing down her slim frame. Granted, my stepmother feeds me only enough to keep me from perishing, so I’m a step beyond slim, and into the territory of sickly, but a win is a win.

Silver linings and all that.

Goal one in my new life? Eat three meals a day.

Well, I guess goal one is finding somewhere safe to live, but the food thing is really a top priority, worthy of being number two. Once I’m out the window, I make my way behind the house, and into the neighboring yards, and back toward my home.

I run hard, thankful no one spots me. I practically fly into the small barn. Am I stealing a horse? Yes. Do I care? No. If I leave him, my parents will let him starve anyway.

I’m the one that’s cared for him every day of his life since we got him when I was seven.

“Hi, Bear,” I whisper, patting his long forehead gently. Thankful for the small stash of hidden treats I snuck from our garden. I give him a carrot and grab his tack. In just a few minutes, I have him under the saddle and loaded with everything I could get my hands on. After slipping his bridle over his head, I also take a second to grab my hidden chest. It’s very small, and the only real thing of value in it is my mother’s broken locket. It’s rusted, and falling to pieces, but it was hers. Truly, it is the only thing of hers that I have.

I tuck it into a saddlebag on the back of the saddle and then step in front of Bear. I’ve always felt a special connection to him, and he’s honestly the only thing that’s kept me going during tough times.

“We’re running away,” I murmur, as a tear slips down my cheek. He understands me. I know he does. Our hearts are connected. He’s my only friend in this world. Bear noses me, stomping his hoof and letting out a little chuff. I rub my cheek against his head, accepting the comfort I know he’s trying to offer. “If I don’t run, I’m as good as dead. It’ll be a slow death. One that kills me from the inside out, Bear. My soul will be gone long before my body gives out,” I confess, and I can feel his agitation. “But we have to go into the forest. I know that scares you, but there’s nowhere else we can go, where they can’t reach us.”

This time, when he stomps his hoof, I sense determination. “I won’t make you go, if you’re too scared, but if you stay, I’m worried they’ll hurt you to punish me. You’ll have to run somewhere else–” Before I can finish my thought, Bear is huffing loudly, letting out a neigh, and shaking his head before doing a trot of sorts. I guess that's his way of telling me to shut the hell up, and that he’s not leaving me. “I love you, Bear. No matter what happens, we’ll get through this somehow.”

Before anyone notices I’m missing, I hop onto the back of my closest, and only, friend. He wastes no time getting us the hell out of here.