"Why" bash "the fuck" kick "can't you" slap "get anything right?" My father raged as he stood over me as he beat me to a pulp. Each word pronounced perfectly, even if he was drunk, and he was sure to hit me between each word. Like that would somehow get his message across even more. All because his dinner was cold when he got home. It's not like he told me when he was going to be coming home, so how the hell was I supposed to know when to have his dinner ready?

He did just wake me up in the middle of the night and dragged me down a flight of stairs by my hair and into our kitchen because he just got home and there was no dinner for him. Little did he know it was in the microwave. I did make it, but he never came home.

When he finished beating me, he grabbed another bottle of beer out of the fridge and he went to the living room and he put on the TV while I laid on the kitchen floor unable to move. I laid there looking up at the ceiling, wondering when this torture was going to end.

"Only a few more months." I told myself. "A couple of months until I turn 18 and then I will be out of here and there is nothing that he can do about it." I mumbled to myself.

I tried taking a deep breath in but realized immediately that it was a bad idea. I could feel that I definitely had a couple of broken ribs and I was having trouble breathing in and out.

When I heard dad's breath start to even out on the couch I knew that he had passed out and I slowly grabbed a hold of a fallen chair and I used it as leverage to help me up and I slowly got my bearings.

I managed to slowly walk back up the stairs of our wing of the packhouse that was reserved for me and my dad because he was the Beta of the pack and I walked down the hallway to my room.

I walked inside my bedroom and I climbed back on my bed and I looked at the time. It was 5am and I didn't really see the point in going back to sleep.

I laid there for a little while longer because Dad made my room the perfect room for a princess so everyone can see what a loving father he was. Even if he didn't treat me like one. He treated me like trash. Worse than how you would treat a dog. But the bed was big and comfortable and I just wanted to melt into it for a little while longer.

When I finally did get up I made my way to my en-suite bathroom and I took my clothes off and put them in the clothes hamper and then I slowly turned to look at myself in the mirror. I was afraid to look at myself but it had to happen sometime.

I was covered in black and blue bruises and fresh cuts from that beating. But also bruises under the new bruises that were yet to heal. I was malnourished and didn't heal as fast as werewolves. But I was used to it.

Ever since my mother died when I was 6 my father has been getting progressively worse until it finally got to this kind of abuse. Which was the worst kind. Where I could barely walk or even look at myself in the mirror.

I had a quick shower because the water stung my skin too much and I washed my ass length snow blonde hair and I came out of the bathroom and walked into my wardrobe.

I got dressed into a pair of black tights, a loose fitting shirt and a hoodie over the top. It was pretty much my signature look.

When I was putting my books in my bag my bedroom door slammed open and I jumped almost to the ceiling because it scared me so badly.

Dad was standing there and I was surprised that he was actually able to stand.

"Hurry up. The pack breakfast is starting." He demanded still slurring his words.

How was he going to explain that to the pack elders? This was going to be interesting. But I really didn't care.

I grabbed my bag and went downstairs and we left our side of the packhouse and walked through long corridors together and when I couldn't keep up with dad's pace he grabbed my arm and dragged me along which only hurt my ribs even more.

"Quit your complaining. What the hell is the matter with you?" He snarled at me. I wasn't surprised that he didn't remember. He was too drunk to remember.

But when we got to the main part of the pack house he made sure that his clothes were neat and his balding gray hair and goatee weren't disheveled and we walked into the large dining room where a lot of important pack members had breakfast every morning. Including the Alpha, his daughter Bella, the pack elders and other influential people around the pack. Like the doctor ect.

There were several tables set out and a buffet where you could eat all you wanted. And I was practically drooling at the food as dad approached it and he piled one plate up with heaps of food and then gave me the second plate with only toast and a pancake on it.

I found Bella sitting at a table by herself next to the window. She was the Alpha's second born and only daughter. And my best friend. We're the same age and we've known each other since we were in diapers.

"I see you've brought the hoodie out again." Bella whispers as I try to sit down without drawing any attention to myself at how much pain I was in. We all know what it means when we see the hoodie - It's for covering the bruises.

"I didn't realize that I ever put it away." I say.

"Well, I'm glad that I don't have to wear mine today." She commented.

"Yeah. Your dad has eased off of you. Is there a reason why?" I asked curiously and a little jealous.

"Yep. Because my brother is coming home today." She beamed at me. And a huge smile spread across my face as well.

"You're kidding. Ethan is finally coming home." I say. And she nods her head. I could tell that she was trying everything to hide her excitement.

"I can't believe that. That's fantastic." I said.

I noticed Bella looking around at the room but she didn't say anything. So I glanced around as well and when I did everyone quickly stopped looking at me.

Dad tried to hide his evil side. But he wasn't fooling anyone. When he got drunk, he would always start fights with people and become unbearable. And he was getting drunk a lot more lately. People had an idea of what was going on in our apartment. But no one was willing to go up against the Beta. Because they all knew that the Alpha would be there to support him and they would be kicked out of the pack. Or worse.

A lot of pack members lived in fear of our Alpha and Beta. It was a horrible way to live. But if they tried to leave then the Alpha would send warriors after them to kill them. He's done it more than once. The warriors were ordered to kill entire families that were fleeing. Which included children.

That's what made this pack the strongest on the East Coast. Because no one was game enough to leave so it was a huge pack and all the warriors trained relentlessly. The only problem was that girls weren't allowed to train.

We basically lived in the stone ages. The Alpha believed that she-wolves are only here to find their mates and produce pups for their mates to keep the pack going strong. It was barbaric and insulting. But he was the Alpha. His word was law.