Chapter 2 Clockwork

• *Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep*
• The alarm goes off, but I stay still willing it to magically shut off. I groan when it doesn’t. I feel a migraine as it threatens to split my head apart. Careful not to move it I reach around for my phone. I can’t remember where I put it and know I’m going to have to open my eyes to find it. I give in to my fate and roll over, my hand dropping to the floor, I sigh in relief as my hand wraps around its shape.
• Of course it was right next to the bed.
• Rolling onto my back a cry of frustration escapes from my lungs. I have to get up. I know I fucking do, but the warmth and false security my bed brings me makes it hard. The Alpha and his family get up to start their day early. It’s my life’s mission to make sure they have everything they need, that includes a full belly before they leave the house. Breakfast must be prepared by the time they head into the kitchen.
• I know pack slaves are a thing of the past and I shouldn’t have to live this way anymore, but I was thankful for everything the pack alpha had done for me. If not for him, I wouldn’t have a roof over my head or this comfy bed. I wouldn’t have three books to call my own and I wouldn’t have a family. I serve the Half Moon pack because it’s all I have and it’s all I want. It would be selfish of me to want for more.
• The Moon Goddess must have watched over me because normally when a rogue stumbles onto pack land or is found near pack borders they are killed on sight. I am probably the only rogue to be welcomed into a pack with opened arms. I’d call that lucky. Alpha Joshua gave me a job at the packhouse and provided me with a room. I’ve spent the last few years trying to show how appreciative I am.
• It’s been four years now. Although I don’t feel like a slave, I know not to be greedy. I know my place. My parents died when I was young and Alpha Joshua and his Luna Rose didn’t have to help me, but they did. He extended his hand to me and I’m thankful for the roof over my head. I’m thankful for the opportunity to serve, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a bitch. I am a not a morning person, but somehow I manage to make myself get up every morning before sunrise. I thank the Goddess as I force myself to sit up and throw my feet off the side of the bed. I roll my neck from one side to the other before I look out the window. The moon sparkles in the sky and the birds are still sleeping peacefully. If I didn’t have to be quiet I would wake them up. I sigh a I force myself to my feet. I throw on one of the two jeans I own, a white v-neck, and a hoodie. I have a bag of clothes that Mavy bought me, but other than this v-neck, I can’t bring myself to touch the rest.
• I gasp at my reflection in the mirror. Why do the beauty gods smite me? If I could just wake up, brush my teeth, and go to work that would be amazing. That’s not possible when I look like a zombie that just rose from the dead. The only thing I can do is moisturize and I set to patting my face down with lotion.
• I’m putting my hair up when I hear a quiet knock at the door. I take one more glance at the mirror and cringe when I take in my reflection. My brown hair looks stringy and frizzy. Literally the only nice thing about it is it’s length. My brown eyes are dull and bloodshot. Don’t even let me get started on the bags beneath my eyes. I gave up trying to make myself look pretty a long time ago. There’s only so much a girl can do. I shrug and heave a sigh.
• “Come in,” I whisper.
• I don’t bother going to the door. I already know who it is. It’s Gabe, we work together, and he’s doing his usual morning pickup. We live down the hall from each other so he comes to get me every morning and we go to work together. I stand at his chest level. His dirty blonde hair is ruffled and messy. He flashes me a crooked smile and I shake my head at him. Gabe lets out a low whistle as his eyes trail over my face.
• “Morning, Ady. You look like shiiit,” Gabe chuckled.
• His eyes take in my frizzy brown hair. Gabe and I met when I first came to Half Moon. We weren’t instant friends, if anything, we put up with each other. It wasn’t until one of the other slaves clothes went missing. They barged into the kitchen and pointed their fingers of blame at me, but Gabe stepped in. He told them I had been working in the kitchen with him all day and it couldn’t have been me. From that day on, Gabe came every morning like clockwork to get me for work. When I needed help, he was there. He has been a great friend, even if he overshares sometimes. I roll my eyes at him.
• “Morning, Gabby.”
• “Have that dream again?” He asked knowingly.
• The dreams he’s talking about started after my seventeenth birthday. I’ve been having them for almost a year now. When I first had the dream, I woke up up with tears running down my face. The feeling and the images had been so vivid that I had questioned reality. I fumbled and tripped out of bed. I hadn’t recognized anyone but Gabe from the dreams.
• I rushed down the hall and banged on his door. He helped me calm down and assured me that everything was fine. The next month the dream visited me again, but continued. As much as Gabe told me that it was just a dream, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t. At first it was once a month, but then the dreams started happening every other week. Nightmares have become a normal part of life.
• “Like clockwork,” I sighed.