Gianna

Walking. That's all we've been doing for the past six hours. My mouth is parched, and the sun is still beating down on us mercilessly.

I've never been out in the sun this long in all my life.

As the daughter—or rather, stepdaughter—of an Alpha, I grew up privileged. I don't remember a time when my mother wasn't married to Alpha Jonathan. My biological father died before I was born, so my mother was forced to make tough choices.

All of them led her right to an Alpha, though, and we had lived comfortably since.

On top of walking, all the slaves were all forced to carry these heavy rucksacks. I don't even know what's inside the one I'm holding—it's not like I have the chance to stop and look. It's like they're trying to kill us outright.

At any moment, I'll fall. And I won't be able to get back up.

Beside me is an old woman, carrying a sack equally as heavy as mine, by the looks of it. She joined our group not too long ago, but already, she's struggling. My heart aches for her. This isn't right.

Why can't the elderly be spared?

What do they gain from so much cruelty?

A whip cracks somewhere behind me, and the person who's been struck cries out. "Keep walking! No stopping!"

I quicken my steps like that'll take me to our destination faster. For the elderly woman, this is too much, though. She falls, sinking to her knees and dropping the bag. My footsteps slow and I keep my eyes on her, horrified about what will happen next.

Everyone else walks right past us. It's like they don't even see us. The rogue with the whip eventually catches up to us, though. His eyes are on the woman, not me. "Up!"

A groan escapes her lips, and he hits her with the whip. I drop my bag and sink to my knees beside her, wrapping my arms around her almost protectively. "Please, she's just tired. Just give her some time."

The man barks out a laugh. "Why, look at this! An angel come to save this old hag."

The other men form a semicircle around us. I count four of them. The rest of the group is already disappearing around the bend.

These men could do anything to me, and nobody would stop them.

"I'd slash this whip across your face, but it's too lovely for me to spoil," the rogue says. "Stand up and walk away now before it's too late."

I don't know what has come over me, especially since so much was sacrificed just for me to be standing here. Jacob died. Lydia died. Goddess, I'm numb. I can't seem to mourn them anymore, nor after all this walking. I'm forced to continue as if nothing happened.

How long will this last? When is the day when I'll finally fall apart?

"Are you deaf?" he asks, taking a threatening step forward and raising the whip. Still, I don't move. I don't know what has come over me.

The man chuckles, lowering the whip. Then, he exchanges a look with the others. "Well. You know what the solution is for a woman who won't listen to a man."

Suddenly, he steps forward, grabs me by my dress—forcing me to my feet—and gives me a slap with the back of his hand. His knuckles cut my cheek and pain explodes where he hit me.

The others laugh, and he drags me aside, pushing me against one of the trees lining the dirt road we're on. His body is firmly against mine, and I start to fight him when I realize what his intentions are.

"Fight all you want," he pants as he grabs my wrists. "I like it more when they fight. You don't know the things it does to me."

A grunt of disgust leaves my lips, and I keep trying to fight him off while his friends laugh. I even hear one of them say, "Don't forget about us when you're through with her."

"Yeah. Leave some for the rest of us!"

"Can't promise that," he chuckles in my ear as he tries to pin me to the tree.

What follows happens in a blur. The men behind us stop laughing, and in a flash, my attacker is peeled off me. I look up and see the Beta—the man who killed my husband—holding him by the neck a few paces away from me.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks calmly.

The man he's choking can't answer. In fact, his face is growing redder with each passing second, much to my satisfaction. The Beta then tilts his head to the side. "Every slave here is my property. Do you think you can do with it what you want?"

Again, he struggles to answer. The Beta finally gets bored and throws him on the ground. I think that'll be all, but the Beta stabs him, much like he did Jacob.

The sight brings all the awful memories back, and for a moment, it feels like I can't breathe.

"What was the cause of this?" he asks before pulling his blade out of the man's gut. I watch the drops of blood land on the ground and miss the explanation they're giving him. Suddenly, his eyes are on me, and he advances.

"You," he begins, "you were a maid, weren't you?"

At first, I glare at him with all my might. Then, Jacob's words return to me, and I nod, swallowing the knot forming in my throat.

"Then you're familiar with following orders?"

I don't respond. I simply nod.

His fingers dig into my jaw and he forces me to look up at him. I have nowhere to go, so I have to endure his touch even when it repulses me. "Then you will follow orders without question or you'll be killed, do you understand?"

He releases me and gives me a hard look. I start to walk past him and head to where my sack is. The old woman is still on the ground. Behind me, the Beta says, "If that woman can't stand, get rid of her."

"What?" I demand, whirling around.

The look he gives me is filled with incredulity. Slowly, he starts toward me, his dirty blade in his hand. "You dare to question me?"

"We've been walking for hours. She's probably just thirsty!"

"And you'll walk for more hours, without food or water," he claims. "If she can't keep up, then we'd better take her out of her misery now."

His men pick up the woman and start dragging her toward the woods. My protective instincts hit me. I take a step toward them, but the Beta holds me back. His grip is unforgiving. I whirl around to look at him and ask through clenched teeth, "Is killing all you do?"

His eyes search mine. They're green with an intensity to them that would've scared anyone else, but not me. "Yes. You stay in line unless you want to be next. I have more than enough slaves. I don't need you."

"Then why am I still here?" I question, tears burning my eyes. I see him killing Jacob over and over again. The vision threatens to suffocate me.

"It's a mercy," he claims. At first, I'm not sure what he means, but then he elaborates. "Those men are brutes, and they'll take advantage of anyone who can't fend for themselves. She's better off dead, especially in this new world."

The men return and as soon as they do, he releases me. "You'll stay by my side. Do anything else to inconvenience me, and I'll have you killed. Walk."

I tuck the sack under my arm and do as he says, putting one foot in front of the other. Trying to keep going. Tears trail down my cheeks, and the air dries them.

By the goddess. How much more of this can I take?