The last 10 hours had went by me in a daze. We had eaten something and then gotten onto a Private jet to a private island somewhere in the pacific. All the while I had been debating to find answers.
Here's what I knew about myself. In short,
My name is Agatha Clearwater. I am a mixblood Omega in the Ironclaw Pack. For the first 18 years of my life, I have been the bitch of the entire pack. All I knew of my mother, for the brief 4 years she had been with me was this. She had been a completely average witch who knew a bit of healing spells. So the pack had allowed us to live at the edge of the compound. But she had passed away due to heart faliure.
And from then on, for the last 14 years my life had been an abusive hell. As an outcast I had no rights and no privileges. But by law, as a half wolf, I was forbidden from leaving the pack lands before I was an adult. You can see how that must have went right? An outcast in a pack only land.
Scrounging trash for food, sweeping roads and floors for crumbs and snatching thrown out rags for clothes. I had lived in a shack I built myself until I struck a deal with an old sweeper. In exchange of him not retiring, I would do all his work early at 3 in the morning before anyone could see in exchange of half his salary. He had agreed on the condition that nobody found out about it. Same for the shop that sold me stuff at double price.
Shit hit the fan when I turned a teen. That's when stone throwing and piñata substitution turned into something far uglier. Fortunately, I was always too smelly and dirty for someone to push too much.
I had laboured, waited, fought and bled and endured until I was 18. Even in pack laws, 18 was an adult. I had hoped to escape and live a simple peaceful life like a simple human, but the pack didn't agree. They had locked and shakled me up by tricking me into signing my life away in a magical contract. I had realised that all my dreams have been shattered when I tried to leave, all because of the stupid mate who didn't even want me. I had given up, left the lands and jumped off of the Golden Gate Bridge.
Why not run away you ask? Well, you see. The world as you know it is a lie. All the presidents and kings and techbros are actually supernatural creatures who control the humans through ignorance and magic. Thus, your laws don't apply to me. But mine do to you. I would have been tracked down and put into permanent Chrosis If I ran. The pack seriously wanted that. I knew it. For me to be kept as a secret fucktoy for my mate to gain a power boost before fights.
(Chrosis is a tortured existence imprisonment. For long lived supernaturals who may at times lose interest in materialistic things. Prison was just another day at someone else's dime)
(When Truemates become intimate. Their powers increase. It's like a temporary shot of Magic steroids)
My mother's pendant had burned as I drowned and merged with me. And instead of Dying, I found myself standing on the top of the bridge again. Only to jump and fail again and again and again. Until I realised that this shitty world had chosen to deny me, even the basic choice of taking my own life.
-----
Yeah, it took me a while to sort out that I was reversing time. But I hadn't been happy. I was too broken to be fixed. What was the point of staying alive, it would be giving the pack exactly what it wants.
So instead, I got flat out high and chose to do the one thing they tell every time traveler to do. Yep, You guessed it. Kill Hitler.
"Please prepare for landing." The airhostess clipped my seatbelt in place for me.
"Here we are, Home Sweet Home!" Albert commented cheerfully as I felt the altitude drop. "Yes, it appears so."
Albert was a man of few words. His comment went a long way in showing how much he loved the place. We hadn't talked about the A-bomb he had dropped at dinner last night. From then on our conversations had dropped to polite gestures and simple words like. Thank You, welcome and sorry. Although he had asked me if I needed anything several times. He hadn't pushed and I was still too afraid of the guy to ask anything of him.
-----
"I'll take you to the family villa tomorrow." Have some rest first. A few servants led me to a guest bedroom. By this point I was numb to the opulence. And tired. I slept on the feathery bed and was asleep in seconds.
The next morning I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and omelettes. A maid held the plate while another respectfully asked, "Will the lady prefer breakfast or bath first?"
Lady. That word made me chuckle. I was hungry, but I decided on the bath. I was unconsciously smelling myself and checking for dirt or something always. Perhaps a warm bath would make me less jumpy. Whether all of this was real or just a long vivid dream of my dying mind as I drowned. I had decided to just go along.
It was a new and weird experience to be bathed by maids. These were very professional ones too. No complains about my clothes or smell. They just stripped me and went to work. Rubbing, soaping, rinsing, wahing and repeating. Once was obviously not enough. I had given up on tracking all the products they put on and in me. Just soaking away in the water. Honestly, after first few minutes, I was no longer shy of my body.
As one of them brushed my hair, something stuck and a small rip happened. It was just 3-4 hair and to her credit my hair were a mess from years of neglect. "Ouch", I exclaimed. Purely out of surprise mind you. Small stuff I thought, their reactions were anything but.
Both of them immediately went down on their knees. "Pardon us my lady, I didn't mean to. I was clumsy. Please punish me!"
I opened my eyes. Such a small scratch had barely registered on me. At first I thought that maybe it was normal. But the terror in their eyes told me different story. Those were not the eyes of servants begging for forgiveness. I had been on that side of the fence enough. Those were eyes I had seen only twice before. Right after they realied that they had fucked up bad, real bad. In both cases they had immediately thrown themselves to the floor to beg Alpha Maddox for mercy. Only for him to disregard their pleas and skin them where the stood. There deaths hadn't been pretty. Wolves are pretty protective of their own, But when they hate, they hate with a vengeance.
I stopped, paused. And a wonderful idea formed in my mind.