Alpha's sweet obsession

Chapter 1

Alpha's sweet obsession.

Chapter 1

My name is Aimee, and I am 17 years old; my birthday is in a couple of weeks, then I'll be 18. I go to high school and am a senior. We live about 40 miles from downtown New York. Let me start by saying that my mom isn't a pleasant or loving person. She makes me walk to school every day; it's about 6 miles; she tells me that I don't deserve money, so I can't take the bus. She just enjoys making my life difficult. I often dream of a better life. I wish my life had love in it, even though I don't see that changing anytime soon. I have been longing for love my whole life or for as long as I can remember. It's an ache that only can be healed with love, but I'm scared to let anyone love me and just as scared to love someone. I can't say that I know what love is like because I never really had it. At this point, it's a fairytale that will never happen but still, I set myself up for hurt by hoping. When I turn 18, it will be freedom. Yes, freedom from my mother and this life. I plan to find a job and move as soon as possible after I save up some money to move somewhere else. Maybe another city or country to get far away from my mom and everything so she can't find me. She would try to find me even though she hated me; she enjoyed punishing me too much to let me go.

My mistake last night was walking past the TV in the living room and blocking the view for a couple of seconds or maybe a minute as I walked by. The punishment for that was a beating with a carpet beater, and not once or twice either; you would think I had gotten used to it because that is how my mother punished us from when we were kids. I tried to run from her, but that was useless. She caught up to me and hit me again and again with the carpet beater. She doesn't like punching me in the face so people can see the marks. Last night it just took two hits before I could feel the blood streaming down my back. It is always the back that is the worst. I have so many scars there. My mom didn't stop hitting after two times; that wouldn't have been a punishment. I lost count of how many times I took hits on my back, ribs, stomach, and chest.

I woke up at 4.30 am still in pain from last night. Since my oldest brother, Dan moved out, my life became hell. I can't say I ever had a loving family except for my brother, Dan. He always had my back in any situation and always looked after me as much as possible.

Today making my way out of bed hurts like hell. I blacked out last night after the beating, and I made it to my room and bed before it all went dark for me. I feel so dirty, but after all, I couldn't get to the shower last night, so now I have to hurry to shower before school, and I hope I can clean my wounds. I need to get ready for school before my mother wakes up. I go to the shower and undress in the bathroom I share with my sister, our rooms connect with our shared bathroom.

I go in the shower, and it stings and burns awfully when I stand under the water. I can see bloody water whirling down the drain in the shower as the water rises on my hair and body. I start to wash my body; it stings when I wash my wounds, but I can't reach the ones that hurt the worst on my back, so I have to make do with running water over the wounds.

I get out of the shower to put some clothes on, and I need to brush my teeth and my long wavy brown hair. It's almost 5.30 am when I'm done with the makeup, so no one can see the bruises on my face, at least.

As I looked in the mirror, I saw that I had new bruisers and fresh wounds to add to my old ones.

I'm lucky because I got no cuts from last night; that's something, at least. The wounds, bruises, and cuts are usually on my back, belly, ribcage, and occasionally my legs or anywhere that clothes cover. I can see that I have a bruise across my cheek today, and I bet I got that after I blacked out. Just her thing, my mom doesn't stop hitting because you blackout; she hits till she thinks you had enough or she gets tired of hitting you.

I can easily say that I hate my life; I have low life expectations. I often say I don't care because no one cares about me, so why should I care about anything. Even though I'm anything than optimistic, there is a grain in my soul that still hopes that it all could change and that I could find love one day. All done and need to move on and go to school. I have to walk to school, which takes me about two hours, and besides, I don't want to be home when she wakes up. I make my way out the door.

While walking, my mind wanders and thinks about my family and how it became like this. Let me tell you about my family. My father's name is Christopher, but everyone calls him Chis. My mother's name is Cornelia, but everyone calls her Connie; she works part-time as a waitress in a tiny cozy coffee shop. Since I was 3 years old, my mom had multiple boyfriends, which is when my father left us. Almost all of them are anything but friendly, one after another worse than the last.

I got three siblings, all older than me. The oldest is my brother Daniel; he's nine years my senior. Then we have my other big brother, and also good for nothing; Raymond mostly goes by the name Ray. He's 7 years older than me and nice to me but works for some criminal organization or mafia. I have never wanted to know the details. He lives at home but rarely sleeps here, maybe once or twice a week. My sister and I don't get along well and have barely any contact even though we live together. Nancy is five years older than me. She's 23 years old. Nancy got dumped by her boyfriend a year back and had trouble finding a job and her own apartment, so she moved in again. I don't understand why.

When our mom is like she is. Our mom beats her, too, but only if I'm not around to get it. Then we got that dark family secret to add to this s**t; my father is a werewolf and a beta in the Thunder Hill Pack in Oregon somewhere near the Black mountain. I have never been there, but that's what my father told me on the few occasions I have spoken with him over the phone. My mother is human; it's hard to believe. You would guess she was a monster, demon, or maybe a witch with her temper and how she is. My oldest brother Dan turns out to be a werewolf. Ray and Nancy are not werewolves. You may wonder what about me; I don't know if I am. I will find out when I turn 18, which is in about two weeks; that is the age you receive your wolf and can find your mate.

I hope I'm not a werewolf; I don't want a mate. My dreaded thought is to tell a man of my horrid life and why I'm dirty and ruined. Pointing out why you don't want me isn't a conversation I want to have. I don't want pity either. Yes, I am confused. I want to love but am terrified to let someone in and tell them about my life. I feel ashamed for living like this, being abused every day.

I have considered leaving the country when I turn 18, maybe going to my mom's birth country, Sweden. I know the language and all. Swedish people aren't as bad as my mom; when I was little, our Swedish family visited, and they all were very friendly. I know I would be welcome to live with them.

My mother blames me for my father leaving. He visited his birth pack, the Thunder Hill Pack, in Oregon because his brother found his mate, so he returned to celebrate. It turns out my father finally found his mate, that's right, my mother was not his mate, but sure he loved her enough. Still, nothing can really compare to finding your mate, apparently. Sadly for me, my older brother Dan found his mate in our father's birth pack, a wonderful woman. I don't blame him, but it's been two years since he left. It hasn't been easy for me. My older brother Ray is too caught up in his criminal career; as he says, we are f****d up and aren't good for much else. I'm thankful he pays little attention to me but is still very nice to me when he is around. Ray is 25 years old but lives at home with us. That is my lovely family, some sarcasm.

Finally, I made it to school; it was 7.55 am. I enter school, walk down the halls, and enter my first class at 8 am, the first class is math, which I'm pretty good at, but it bores me. The second is history class, which is not my favorite, and then I have Geography and lunch. I do my homework during lunch since my mom doesn't give me money to buy lunch, so I just eat a small portion of dinner she lets me have once a day. The rest of the day goes by quickly, and it's a blur. It's 2 pm when I'm leaving the school building to go home after my school day, and I'm about to start my long walk back home when someone grabs me from behind, big strong arms holding me. I have no chance to fight this big strong man, I can't see, but it must be a man. No woman is that tall and has that many bulking muscles. They put some kind of cloth over my mouth and nose, and I feel darkness starting to take over and my mind slipping.

I wake up, and I can hear voices and feel someone's presence near me, but I can't see anything. I can't determine what they are saying, but I don't know why they are confident they are talking about me and my brother Ray. Why would they do that? Who are they? Why did they take me? I defiantly haven't done anything wrong that I know of. Did my brother f**k up? What has he done and to whom? Just my luck, Can't I get a f*****g break even once? I just know I'm f****d. There is no chance that my dreams will ever happen now, not that my chance at those dreams was big, but still, a girl can dream, can't she? My imagination is running wild, what they'll do to me because I know my dear bro will be a no-show. So if I get out of this situation, it will be up to me, but how?

I am bound to a chair of some kind. I can feel my feet tied to chair legs with rope, my arms are strapped with cable ties, and I can't speak; they have put duct tape over my mouth and even a hood over my head. The possibility of getting loose and escaping is not very good. I'll take the first chance I get at running. I hope it's soon because my back is killing me; it feels like my wounds have opened up again; it's burning and feels sticky. My ribs feel sore on my right side. I wonder if it was from last night or if these people hurt me when I was cold out. It doesn't matter which, but in this position, it makes it a little hard to breathe, and it hurts with each breath I take. With my body hurting and aching, how will I get out of this?

Then the smell hits me like a truck! What a lovely scent. It's like sea breeze; where is it coming from?! It's coming closer. If I wasn't sitting down, it would make me weak in the knees and make my legs jelly, Jesus, its smells so good. It could make a girl go crazy for real. Then it's gone just as fast as the smell came. I need to get away from here; this is not a good sign.

That can be a mating scent; not even I can have that much bad luck, right?