Chapter 1

They call me Number Five.

And I hate it.

In my pack, I’m not seen as a person. I’m treated like an object, and every pack member is allowed to mistreat me or kick me to the ground. That’s why my blonde hair is usually dirty and why there are bruises covering my pale skin.

Most of the time, I wish I hadn’t been born.

I’m the fifth person in history born without a wolf. It means I’m weaker than your regular werewolf, and because of this, my pack and family decided I didn’t deserve a name. Instead, the number “five” has been burnt into my back with a hot piece of metal. I’m branded. The mark will never fade away and serves as a reminder that I’m worth less than an Omega.

It wasn’t always this way, though.

A year ago, my parents thought my wolf would awaken on my eighteenth birthday. They had high hopes and told tales about other werewolves who had undergone a “butterfly transformation” on their eighteenth birthday. They convinced me that everything was going to be okay. But sadly, life isn’t a fairy tale.

I spent my entire eighteenth birthday crying because my mother wouldn’t stop slapping me while yelling, “You’re a disgrace!” over and over again. Eventually, I couldn’t move, and my father had to drag her away from my lifeless body.

“You can’t kill her without permission from the Alpha,” my father had said. “Calm down, or you will get both of us punished for acting without the Alpha’s order!”

“But she is a disgrace!” my mother yelled, trying to break free from my father’s arms. Luckily, he didn’t let go, and that’s why I’m still alive today.

My mother really hurt me. She tore up my flesh and used her wolf to bite into my arms. It took me two months to heal from the wounds she inflicted, and my face is still scarred and ugly. My mother hadn’t hesitated to use her claws to ruin the beauty I was born with.

“Number Five?”

I stop sweeping the kitchen floor and look up at my father, but I don’t directly meet his eyes since I’m not stupid. I’m just showing him that I’m listening.

He seems satisfied by this and continues talking. “Your mother and I have decided to allow you to attend college. We have arranged everything. All you have to do is pack your bags, and a car will pick you up tomorrow morning.”

His words take me aback. I’m not one to show emotions, but this news shocks me. It’s as if my parents want to get rid of me. But then again, why do I bother? I’m just “Number Five” to them.

Still, I can keep my mouth shut. “W-why now?” I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

My father’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t like it when I speak up since I’m worthless in his eyes, but he seems to allow it this time and sighs.

“Honestly, it’s for the best,” he says, avoiding my eyes. “Your mother and I are tired of living with a disgrace of a daughter. You’re an embarrassment to this family. Luckily, the Alpha family accepted our request to get rid of you. You will be moving into their mansion to work as a servant while attending college. It will be wonderful for you.”

The Winter family is taking me in?

My heart clenches with fear. The Winter family is the wealthiest Alpha family in the country and runs the Wintercrest pack. People either respect or fear them, and me? I fear them, especially the two Alphas, Eric and Logan. They are just two years older than me at twenty, but we aren’t friends. Even before we knew that my wolf would never awaken, the two of them used to bully me.

I remember them quite well…how they used to push me around and make fun of me in high school. Even though I had never spoken a single word to them, they called me “shorty” and laughed at the fact that I was both weak in stature and in spirit since I lacked an inner wolf.

I really don’t want to live with those two bullies.

Still, I don’t argue with my father or show any signs of resistance. I know how my parents are when they are angry, and I don’t want to provoke them. Besides, a part of me is glad to leave this place. I’ve always felt suffocated and neglected in this house, and living with the Winter family will be terrible, but maybe I can make friends in college.

I give my father a faint nod to signal that I know what is expected of me, and he smiles. “Excellent. Go upstairs and pack your bags. A car is going to pick you up soon.”

I spend the rest of the day packing my bags. My parents don’t care that I’m leaving, but I still feel a pang of sadness when the car arrives to pick me up. My mother doesn’t say goodbye, but my father stands outside on the curb and waves as the car leaves to whisk me away to the Wintercrest pack’s mansion.

Am I going to regret willingly sitting down in this car?

I ponder on that as I stare out through the window. It doesn’t take long before we drive up to the Winter family’s grand mansion.

When I get out of the car, the driver helps me with my bags and hands me a piece of paper with a list of the Winter family’s expectations and rules. They are extensive, but none of them really stand out to me, except for one.

Rule number six: All servants are to be obedient and respectful towards their masters at all times. Any sign of disobedience will result in severe punishment.

I shiver, but I’m not surprised. I expected there to be rules and grab my large bag that fits my entire life. It’s heavier than I remember, and I must heave it up one step at a time as I try to make it up the stone staircase.

As I approach the front door, it creaks open, revealing the lavish entrance hall with its high ceilings and chandeliers. I try to push my fear aside and take in my surroundings, but all I can think about is my new life as a servant to the Winter family.

Suddenly, a deep voice breaks my thoughts. “Well, well, well, look who we have here.” My heart drops as I turn around to see Eric and Logan leaning against the wall, looking down at me with smirks on their faces.

They look older now and much bigger. The two lanky teenagers from my past are but a memory, replaced with two giants swollen by muscle. Awkwardly thin arms have been swapped for biceps bigger than my thighs. Their jet-black hair is a little longer. Their shoulders are broader, and the only thing that looks the same is their dark, almost black eyes. Both of them are drop-dead gorgeous and could fit the cover of a GQ magazine.

“Five?” Logan asks in a much deeper and more confident voice than I’m used to. “Did you shrink?”

Eric sighs at his brother. “It should be her.”

I swallow hard when the god-like beings approach me, realizing how much I’ve underestimated just how much I fear them. I try to make myself as small as possible, but it’s too late. Logan grabs my bag and pulls it away from me, easily hoisting it up and slinging it over his broad shoulder.

“Is this the only stuff you brought with you?” he asks, but I don’t think he cares about the answer. I get the feeling he is just trying to make me talk so that he can punish me for breaking the rule of not being allowed to speak.

Don’t answer him, I tell myself, and try to focus on breathing, which is becoming harder by the second.

Eric starts a slow saunter toward me, shuffling his feet lazily across the floor until I stare down at his white socks. His feet are way bigger than mine, and his presence demands attention. I lift my chin and freeze.

His face is one of beauty. I can’t take my eyes off him. He is much larger than I remember him being, with huge dark eyes and a face that looks like it’s been carved by an angel. But all I need for the magic to be broken is to look at his cruel lips to realize that he is a demon.

“What’s the matter, Five?” he asks in a mocking tone. “Aren’t you happy that we saved you from your parents?”

Logan, who, by the way, looks identical to his twin, snorts. “As if she is going to answer you, brother. The poor thing is probably too dumb to speak.”

“True,” Eric says without taking his eyes off me. He is what you would call the more talkative brother. “I’ve heard werewolves born without wolves are very stupid…but perhaps this one—” he lifts up my chin with a finger. “Actually does know how to speak and is just pretending she doesn’t.”

I gasp when he leans in closer, it’s a small little sound, but it’s enough to make Eric’s lips quirk up in satisfaction; the bastard is pleased with himself.

“Do I make you nervous?”

It’s a simple question. One I shouldn’t answer, but for some reason, I blurt out, “No.”

Amusement lights up his wicked face, and he squats down so that his eyes are level with mine. “Are you sure about that, Shorty?”

I feel my cheeks heat up as he calls me ‘Shorty,’ but I hold my ground. “Yes, I’m sure,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

Eric chuckles and stands back up, his eyes still locked onto mine. “That’s a shame,” he says, winking. “because I love it when my pets are afraid of me.”

I feel Logan’s large hand on my back, and I flinch, but he just pushes me forward toward the stairs. “Come on, Five, let’s get you settled in.”

Logan’s hand propels me forward, and I realize I have no choice but to start walking up the grand staircase. I stumble over the first step and land on my ass. Hard.

The twins snort in amusement, and when I glance up, I catch a faint smirk on Logan’s lips. “Watch where you’re going,” he says, and I feel Eric’s eyes land on mine.

“Still as clumsy as ever…”

“Mhm, she tripped over her own feet,” Logan’s low, husky voice sends a shiver up my spine.

Eric snickers. “That’s not very surprising,” he folds his big arms behind his head and looks down at me with a stern look in his dark eyes. “We already knew she was a walking deathtrap, didn’t we?”

I blush out of embarrassment. I’m right here, yet they are talking about me instead of to me as if I’m a pet? A hot flush of frustration runs over me as I push myself up from the ground. I brush my hands on my pants, freezing, when I realize the twins have stopped in their tracks.

Cocking his head to one side, Eric studies me thoughtfully. “That reminds me… We have bought you a collar, Five. It’s waiting for you in your room.”

A collar?!

The implication of the word makes me nervous. I feel sweat gathering on my palms and clench my fists, trying to control my breathing. I don’t want to wear a collar like a dog. But I probably don’t have a choice, do I?

Wait.

Does the collar mean that the twins see me as their pet?

A bone-chilling shiver sends goosebumps up my arms when I look between the two brothers. Logan isn’t looking at me, but Eric is smirking, and I gulp.

Life as a servant to the Winter family will probably be harder than I imagined.