Charisse's Pov

"YOU CALL THIS CLEAN?" exclaims one of the men. I don't have to think or look up to realize he's speaking to me. My hand is clutching the small rag I was given to clean with, and my body is hunched to avoid looking into the eyes of my tormentors. Only a few hours until I have to return to the basement.

I keep my mouth shut as always when cleaning because speaking would only worsen my punishment. "SCRUB UNTIL I CAN SEE MY REFLECTION, BITCH!" the same man orders, slamming my head against the floor with his foot. "Then we'll have some fun."

As the dizziness worsens, I close my eyes and lie down. Alpha James would become enraged if any of the pack members saw me resting for a few seconds. My head wouldn't hurt so much if I had food in my system; the last time I ate was in the summer, and it was almost winter. 'We can't live like this,' whimpers my wolf.

"If you want, I'll end it tonight." "I'm just waiting for your approval," I explain. I lost my will to live years ago, and I'm still alive because my wolf refuses to die. I've attempted suicide several times before, but I've never succeeded. If I try again, I won't do it unless my wolf agrees; it's her life, too.

"Not yet," she responds. "We haven't found a mate yet."

"We don't have a buddy."

"Of course we do!" I hate arguing with the one who never hurts me, but what I tell her is true. Alpha James and everyone else keep asking me why no knight in shining armor came to rescue me. It's because I don't have a boyfriend. "He just hasn't found us yet," she says.

He will reject us. I cry a little as I imagine what would happen if I had a mate; he would leave me when he realized how much of a mess I am. It's a fact that no one wants a mate as weak as me.

"NO SLEEPING ON THE JOB!" yells an all-too-familiar voice into my ear. Alpha David James, I immediately recognize him. He slams me into the marble counter and begins unbuckling his belt. My wolf begs to take over and let me rest, but I refuse. I need her to be as strong as possible so that we have a better chance of escaping when the time comes.

"Please don't, Alpha," I beg, hurrying away, knowing what will happen.

He sneers, "You get what you deserve."

---

I scream as I awaken, not because of my usual nightmares but due to a sharp pain in my lower back. To muffle the noise, my hands fly up to cover my mouth. I learned long ago that if I wake up anyone in the house, I'll get in trouble. I already get punished for opening my mouth to speak; anything louder than a groan will result in a rainy camping trip later.

"Who wants to go first?" asks Gamma Brooks from outside the attic door. My eyes widen in fear as I realize what is about to happen. He and the other high-ranking wolves ensure I understand my place in this world. They constantly remind me why no one would ever love or care for me.

"I can't bear the pain any longer,' my wolf says as the door creeps open. I try to keep her from taking over, but she's too powerful for me to resist. She advances in my mind and seizes control of my body. I've never let her suffer for me and always told her to conserve her strength. Today might be the day she puts it to use.

"You've been doing this for far too long," our mixed voices agree. My wolf lunges at Gamma Brooks and knocks him to the ground before he realizes what's happening. We aren't strong enough to knock him out, but our surprise attack knocks him out long enough for us to leave the dilapidated building.

My wolf flees into the woods from the wooden shed. The men were wise to take me somewhere secluded because using me without Alpha's permission is against the rules, but I'm also certain they took me closer to the pack's border. Rest. "I'll keep us safe,' says my wolf before shifting.

Our furry paws pound into the ground, desperate to escape before the other men notice. I'd tried to flee the Blue Stone Pack several times before but was always apprehended. The punishments I received ensured I would only attempt it after a while. I'm still determining where we're going, but I'm confident my wolf will lead us to a better place. Whether it's death or being transferred to a different pack, it'll be better than where we are now.

I've always wished for my wolf to be paired with a better human soul who doesn't have to keep her confined all the time. This is only the second time in my life that I've changed jobs. The first time was when I was fifteen or sixteen years old. I am still determining my true age, birthday, and how I got here after many years with the Blue Stone Pack. All I know is I was not born here and had a family.

I'd give anything to know what happened to me before I was taken to this horrible place. My real name might not even be Charisse Belle; that's just what one of the pack members told me it was. Not everyone was cruel to me; that would be absurd; I never did anything to the wolves of Red Stone, and I know that some wolves are unhappy with how they're expected to treat me. Alpha James does his best to ensure that no one treats me kindly, but that doesn't stop everyone. Some women have snuck at me some clothes while "ordering me to take out the trash." Some wolves have even dropped my meals in the attic.

I prepare food for everyone in the packhouse, but that doesn't mean I get to eat any of it. Alpha James and a few higher-ups have previously caught me trying to eat some of my cooking, and it has never gone well for me. I quickly learned not to sneak anything out for myself or ask for food from others. Fortunately, not everyone I met thought I was a "disgrace."

After an hour of running, my wolf says, "I don't think I can go any further." That's not much compared to how long other wolves can run, but my wolf and I aren't the healthiest of our species.

"It's fine; I can take over from here,' I explain. Fatigue, hunger, and blood loss all took their toll on me, but I've made it far enough away from the Blue Stone Pack.

I'm unsure where I am because I've never seen a map. What concerns me the most is that I may not be on neutral ground but rather on the border of another pack or even inside a pack territory.

I decide that walking straight is my best chance of survival, so I ignore the burning pain in my side and leg. I ran into a couple of trees because everything appeared to be duplicated. Perhaps I'm losing too much blood, or "What are you doing here, rogue?" a male voice inquires. He doesn't yell, which I appreciate, but his tone isn't friendly.

The mere presence of this man awakens my senses. "ANSWER ME!" He yells, kicking me into a tree. I hear some rustling, and soon another man appears beside me.

"Trent, stop!" yells the second man.

Trent smirks, "Why not?" "We could have some fun with this rogue." "The Alpha doesn't have to know."

"She needs help."

"I'm going to take her to the cells," Trent says lustfully. I whimper and look at the other man with beseeching eyes.

He tells Trent, "I can't let you do that." As he speaks, my eyes well up with tears. Nobody has ever stood up for me.

Trent sneers before knocking out the kind soul who tried to save me. It's as if the universe curses everyone who shows me mercy; the world would be much better without me.

Trent doesn't take long to throw me into a stone cellar. 'This is it,' I say to my wolf.

He'll use us and then get rid of us. He'll have the decency to put me out of my misery.

Metal chains bind me for the second time tonight. The only distinction is that these are made of silver. "What's fun without a little pain?" Trent laughs as silver burns my skin.

I'm still in wolf form, but I must change soon. "Let's get this party started, shall we?"

Trent grabs my face with one hand and squeezes so hard that another bruise forms. When he yanks on my fur, it's too much for my body to bear, and I revert to human form. "You have a lot of scars; what kind of whorehouse were you from?" he jokes.

Tears well up in my eyes as I realize my body is completely exposed and at his mercy. Even though this isn't the first time I've been in a situation like this, I'm fairly certain it will be the last thing I do before I die.

"Stop," I mumble helplessly as he pulls out a knife.

He drags the sharp blade down my arm, occasionally changing the pressure on my skin. I try bracing myself, but it doesn't help. You'd think this wouldn't be a problem after years of abuse.

I thought that was the end of it before he took me, but I was very wrong. This sadistic man unbuckles his belt, strikes me in the head with the metal portion, and then turns around to retrieve a real whip.

"Stop. Please stop!" I sob as it falls again on my back. I end up begging him to kill me right now.

A ferocious growl cuts off my tormentor's words, "Shut up, you-" I whimper and close my eyes in response to the loud noise. A growl like that can only come from someone with a lot of power; it can't be good for me.

The chains are broken a split second later, and powerful arms engulf me.

My rescuer growls, "Mate."

Xavier POV

When I'm alerted about a female rogue, I run alongside my Beta on the border of our territory. "I'll go down to the cells; you go, scout, where she was discovered," I tell Brad via mind link.

I'm about a mile from my destination when I notice an incredible smell. I don't hesitate to follow it, leading me to the cells.

'Come on! Please hurry!'My wolf orders cheerfully. I follow his instructions, but when I arrive at the source of the odor, I find one of my fighters torturing a girl.

In a rage, I let out a ferocious growl and snapped his neck. The beauty in front of me is bleeding profusely on the dirty floor. Did Trent do everything?

When I yank her chains off, blood splatters all over my hands. "Mate," I growl, clutching her naked body.

I don't even notice the scars on her body; all I can think about is keeping her alive.

She is still conscious but unaware of what is happening around her. As I sprint towards the pack hospital, her breath comes out of her short pants. "Sweetheart, keep your eyes open," I tell her.

The hospital is within walking distance.

When I storm through the doors, I order everyone to assist the poor girl in my arms. No one dares ask who she is or why I brought her here; they should know better. When I try to follow them into the operating room, a nurse tells me, "Alpha, you have to stay out here and wait."

"I need to be in there."

"Alpha, I'm sorry, but you'll slow the doctors down." That's all it takes for me to remain put.

**** (after a week)

Beep. Beep. Beep.

That's the only sound that lets me know she's still alive. My friend won't be able to walk alone with four broken ribs, a broken wrist, a fractured leg, and a broken ankle. Gauze wraps around her shoulders and back, where most of the bleeding occurred.

I haven't left her side since I brought her home. I've been sleeping in uncomfortable hospital chairs while holding her tiny hand; I want to be beside her when she wakes up today.

I haven't seen her eyes yet, but I'm sure they're as innocent as the rest of her. There's something strangely familiar about this girl that I can't place.

I learned that she had endured years of abuse because of her weight and scars, not all of which were Trent's fault.

The doctors said they didn't know my friend's age, but her weight was unhealthy. Seventy-six pounds isn't even half of my weight.

A sniffle jolts me out of my reverie. I look at my friend's face and watch her baby-blue eyes slowly open. "You're awake," I try to say, but only grumble.

She doesn't open her mouth to speak; instead, she looks at me with fear. "I-I'm sorry for g-going i-into your t-territory," she stammers, the heart monitor beeping louder in the background.

"Just kill me already," she begs, bracing herself for a punch.

"Why would I do that?" I ask, puzzled and hurt. I'm unsure what makes her think I'd hurt one of my friends.

"Everyone wants to. P-please make it quick."

"I brought you here, and you're my mate." I lean forward to caress her cheek as a caring gesture, but she flinches away before I can touch her.

As my friend begins to panic, the heart monitor beeps faster and faster. A nurse rushes into the room and begins speaking to her. "Take some deep breaths; your body won't be able to handle any more injections."

It takes her ten minutes to calm down completely. Holding her hand would have helped, but it had the opposite effect. "I'm not going to hurt you, sweetheart," I say quietly, keeping my voice from becoming too loud. It's bad enough that she's afraid of me; I must be careful not to scare her further.

"You're going to reject me, they said," she says quietly.

"I would never reject you. I just found you," I say, "and who told you that?"

My question is one to which she will wait to respond. "What's your name?" I inquire, shifting the subject.

"Char-Charisse Belle."

I recognize her.

"My name is Xavier Ryan," I say, almost reaching to take her hand. I extend my hand, expecting her to shake it, but she never does. She stares at my hand as if it were a trap.

"R-Ryan? You're an Alpha." Charisse grips the bedsheets by the sides.

With a nod, I confirm, "Of the Moon Shadow Pack."

I sit next to the hospital bed and gaze down at her. "Don't be afraid of me; I won't hurt you," I say quietly.

After a few seconds of shamelessly inspecting her facial features, I've been straining her neck by forcing her to lie flat on the bed. I frown as I press a button to allow Charisse to sit up, seeing her terrified expression. "Why am I here?" she muffles.

"Because you're hurt."

"But why did you take me here?" she asks innocently, peering up at me.

"Why wouldn't I? As your mate, it's my job to protect you."

"No one's ever been nice to me."

My frown deepens as she responds.

"What exactly do you mean?"

"My old pack, even the Omegas, despised me; they hit and starved me," Charisse explains. I immediately regret my growl when she flinches and shields herself with her arms.

I move my hands up to her forearms and gently guide them away from her face, holding her elbows. Her eyes are closed tight until I place light kisses on each of her knuckles. "Where are the sparks coming from?" she asks, her eyes welling up.

"You feel sparks because we're mates; that's why it's good when I do this," I say as I lean in and kiss Charisse's baby-soft lips. My actions take her aback, but instead of resisting or freaking out, she kisses back just a little.

Xavier's Pov

"You feel sparks because we're mates; that's why it's good when I do this," I add as I lean in and kiss Charisse's baby-soft lips. My actions take her aback, but instead of resisting or freaking out, she kisses back just a little.

Our kiss was brief, but it couldn't have been better; knowing that she kissed back a little reassures me that I could have a great connection with her. I notice her bright crimson cheeks as I back away from her. "We're friends," I confirm.

Charisse nods and turns away shyly. "Look at me," I say as I take both of her hands in mine.

"I don't want to pressure you into doing anything. We'll take things slowly, okay?"

She nods again in agreement but does not open her mouth to respond.

"Ah, you're awake." A few moments later, Doctor Simpson arrives.

"When will Charisse be discharged?" I want to get right to the point.

"After you finish these papers, Alpha," he says, offering me a packet and some tablets before walking away.

After skimming over the questions, I realize I need to learn more of the answers. I only have the name and the date.

I asked, "How old are you, baby?"

"I don't know."

"Do you happen to know when your birthday is?"

She sighs and shakes her head.

"I forgot many things when my old pack beat me," she says. I keep my gaze fixed on the pen and abstain from striking anything.

"Do you have any relatives?" Or whether you were born in your previous pack or not?"

"I know I had parents and possibly a big brother." But I know nothing else about my life," she says quietly.

"We can do a blood test if you're okay with it--to see if we can find a relative and get more information about you." I propose.

Charisse blinks and then looks at the IVs hooked on her body. "You don't have to do that for me; I don't want to waste any more of your time," she says, declining the offer.

Was I wasting my time? Even though I can't sense her feelings, she wants to learn more about herself. It's clear from all the medication and support she needs that she's been abused and starved for years. "Doc, can we do a blood test to get more information on Charisse?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, Alpha, but she won't be able to handle any more blood loss," he says, but his tone betrays his apathy.

'Shit's about to get real,' muses my wolf.

I rise and indicate for Dr. Simpson to join me in the corridor. I don't want my flatmate to hear me doing this, so I go a few rooms down. "Why in the hell are you lying to me?" I ask in a disturbingly calm tone.

He looks at me.

"Answer me when I ask you a question!" I demand that you throw him against the wall by the neck.

"She could perform a blood test, Alpha." Please forgive me," he begs forgiveness.

"If you commit another offense against my mate, I will personally kill you." I threaten to release him.

I hurry back to Charisse with one last peek. How dare a shifter oppose his Alpha in such a way; if it hadn't been for the fact that he was treating my mate, I would've killed him. I still want to murder him.

"Shit." When I smell Brad inside my friend's hospital room, I mutter.

"Merda." I hear him cuss, his Italian origins showing through.

'Who is this?' he says, peering at Charisse over the mind link.

'This is my pal. 'Stop looking at her.' I growl.

'How come she looks so familiar?' he wonders. Stop gazing at her, you moron!

'What exactly do you mean? 'She just awoke.'

'She looks like an older version of my sister,' he replies, fists clenched. He had a younger sister who was abducted when he was seven. His parents looked for him for five years, but Brad never gave up; I even gave him time off work to do so.

Brad Belle, Charisse Belle, hold on a second. Their surnames are not of Italian origin, but they were raised in an Italian-style environment.

"Charisse, didn't you say you had a brother?" I consulted with my colleague.

"I think so; I don't remember that much," she says.

"How about his name? Do you know your brother's name?" Brad inquires eagerly. She was taken by whichever pack she came from if he and Charisse were siblings.

"B-Francis, Stephen, something beginning with a B."

"It's possible that this is his. This could be my sister." Brad mutters as he runs his fingers over his hair. My best buddy and mate are most likely siblings, but there's only one way to find out: a blood test.

"Did I do something wrong?" Charisse inquires, her face concerned. Her heart monitor beeps faster as she nervously fidgets with the hospital blanket.

"No, darling. We believe you and Brad are linked." I say this in an attempt to calm her down. It's reasonable for Luna to feel concerned about her packmates, but believing she's the source is quite another.

"Here." Brad offers Charisse a cup of water, and I realize how dry her throat must be.

"Thank you." She gently holds the cup as if it were the most valuable object in the world.

"Doctor Simpson said you requested a blood test, Alpha?"

"Yes, Brad is going to do it as well." Finding out if they're related will be faster if they both do the blood test.

"These are only for her appetite and to relieve pain." "The Luna may feel dizzy and hungry, but it's best if you don't force her to eat more than she can handle," advises the nurse.

"Is there anything I should be cautious of?"

"Just don't put too much pressure on her bones or do anything violent in her presence." We discovered a lot of tension and mental trauma when we did a brain scan."

I nod and return my gaze to Charisse. She'd been sleeping for a few hours and wasn't awake when we discovered she and Brad were related.

He assured me he would let her get used to me before taking on the big brother role.

"No way, no how. "It won't happen again," she mutters in her sleep.

I gently shake her shoulder to wake her, but it is ineffective. I shake her harder as her arms move to cover her head. She blinks open her eyes and glances around the room, perplexed and panting. "It was just a dream, and you're safe with me." I coo, clutching her close.

All IVs had been removed earlier, and I had spent the last few hours filling out paperwork and asking nurses questions. "We can go home now," I inform Charisse.

Her reaction breaks my heart. "I don't have a place to call home."

"Your home is with me," I say.

"Really?"

"I'm not giving you up now that I've finally found you."