Chapter 2

• Willow
• I could smell the savory scent of the roast cooking in the oven, making my stomach protest loudly and reminding me that I had consumed little since yesterday morning, like I needed the prompt. Hopefully, I would be able to secret away some scraps after I had cleaned up the dinner party occurring later this evening.
• Zeke watched with disdain as I struggled to lift the bucket of vegetables onto the counter, an action that should have been beyond easy for a werewolf like me.
• Sadly, my life had not been easy here in the Southern Province, notwithstanding my initial high hopes.
• Zeke's daily abuse, combined with my near starvation and tremendous workload, had left me weak and unable to defend myself.
• Even so, somehow in the face of the weight loss caused by meager rations, my generous hips and bust line had managed to linger.
• Hell, I could not even heal myself properly anymore, but that might have been a side effect of being prevented from shifting on a regular basis. My wolf had started to dwindle slowly, but it was getting to the point that I could barely sense her presence at times.
• I flinched when he sauntered closer and shrunk away from his imposing demeanor before I could stop myself.
• Regrettably, Zeke chose that moment to slink up behind me and grab my ass, a common gesture for him. I jerked away from him; the unexpected action causing me to lose my precarious balance on the bucket as I did so.
• The vegetables went tumbling towards the floor as I tried, unsuccessfully, to abscond from out of his arm range.
• Zeke's left hand snaked out and clamped down on my wrist like a vise, no doubt leaving another mark that would take hours to heal in the process.
• I did not see his right hand coming until it was too late. He smashed his large palm into the side of my face with a bruising force, causing me to skid back a step from the pure power of the blow.
• I recognized the coppery aftertaste of blood in my mouth as he continued to shove and berate me while I got my bearings.
• "You stupid bitch! Look what you have done now. Dinner had better be done before they arrive, and I do not want to see your ugly face again until they are gone!" He bit out with a disgusted look on his face before stomping out of the room without sparing me a backward glance.
• I dropped to the floor, picking up the scattered carrots and potatoes as Zeke stormed out of the kitchen. I did not bother to respond anymore, knowing it only served to increase his ire and my suffering in the long run.
• As I gathered the fallen vegetables and began to wash, peel, and prepare them, I endeavored to shake off the pain and lingering disgust caused by Zeke's unwanted touch.
• I thanked Luna for the millionth time that groping was the worst of it in that regard.
• Zeke may treat me deplorably and lash out whenever the mood struck, but he had never crossed that line. I was not sure what stopped him. But I was grateful for whatever it was, and I did not intend to question it too thoroughly.
• Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that, right?
• I lost myself in the task of preparing the dining room and finishing dinner, one of the chores that I would enjoy if Zeke had not forced me to cook for him and all the unmated warriors every day that I had been stuck in this purgatory.
• I was setting the last dish on the table when I was startled out of my daze by the noisy knocking that echoed from the direction of the front door.
• I gazed around the spacious room in response, making sure that every detail was in place before I departed.
• I knew I would catch hell for it later if Zeke deemed even one thing below his impossibly high standards, not that he would get off his lazy ass to do anything himself.
• The large rectangular table was eye-catching, taking center stage under a beautiful crystal chandelier that brought out the rich tones in the mahogany colored surface and seemed to make the silver sparkle more than it had after I had polished it prior.  
• The wonderful aroma of the feast that I had prepared bathed the air, making me think about the buttery potatoes and the piquant...
• Thump, thump, thump!
• Another round of loud pounding on the door sent me dashing off to my room, though calling it a room was being generous, before the visiting alphas caught a glimpse of me and I had to deal with Zeke again.
• At length, I let out a deep breath that I did not realize I had been holding as I leaned against the shut door of my domain. It was not much to speak of, but it was mine.
• The storage room came equipped with a ratty old, twin-sized mattress on the floor, taking up most of the space, and a wooden shelf that held my precious few belongings. I was relieved when I noticed them resting exactly where I had placed them last. At least Zeke had left my space alone today.
• I sank down onto the mattress as I allowed my gaze to rove over the rest of the sparse room. I recollected back to the day that I had first opened my eyes after the attack. Everything had been so different then.
• Zeke had been warm and welcoming, in stark contrast to what I now knew his temperament was genuinely like.
• He had apologized that his warriors were unable to prevent harm from befalling me, but he had also hastened to assure me that I would be perfectly safe and well taken care of here in the South.
• It seemed like I had finally made it to the promised safe haven after all of the heartbreak and strife that I had been forced to endure on my own throughout my journey, with only the company of my wolf to keep me from going insane.
• What a joke.
• If only I had known what alone truly meant, then.