Mated to My Intended's Enemy novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Chapter 5 The Omega House

Victoria

Every Tuesday felt like a small rebellion against my suffocating life. The Omega House stood at the edge of town, its weathered exterior hiding the warmth within. It wasn’t much—peeling paint, creaky floorboards, and windows that whistled when the wind blew—but it was sanctuary for the lowest-ranking members of our pack hierarchy.

Today, as always, I took comfort in the simple rhythm of my chores. There was something soothing about sweeping the worn wooden floors, replacing the wilted flowers with fresh ones from the market, and scrubbing Uncle Alessio’s kitchen until it gleamed. Here, nobody cared about my mixed blood or my failure to shift. Nobody watched me with contempt or pity. Here, I was just Victoria—not the half-breed daughter of a once-great Alpha.

"You missed a spot, piccola," Uncle Alessio’s gravelly voice called from his favorite armchair. Despite his teasing, his eyes held nothing but kindness as he watched me work.

Uncle Alessio wasn’t actually my uncle—he was an aging Beta wolf who had once served my father’s pack before Enzo took over. Now he managed this shelter, caring for those who had nowhere else to go.

I smiled, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. "You say that every week, Uncle. I’m starting to think you just enjoy watching me clean."

"An old wolf has to find his entertainment somewhere," he chuckled, then his smile faded as I turned to face him. "Victoria, those shadows under your eyes... you’re not sleeping well?"

My hand instinctively went to my face, fingers gently touching the concealer I’d carefully applied this morning. Had it worn off? Could he see the bruise beneath?

"Just stayed up reading again," I lied, forcing a light tone. "I’ll pay more attention to my beauty sleep next time."

The truth was far uglier. Enzo had been in a particularly foul mood last night. I’d accidentally dropped a glass in the kitchen, and his response had been swift and brutal—a kick to my ribs that had left me gasping on the floor. The bruises there were matched by the ones on my face where he’d backhanded me for "making too much noise."

Uncle Alessio didn’t look convinced. His nostrils flared slightly—trying to catch the scent of my lie, no doubt. But I’d become skilled at masking my emotions, at least on the surface. What choice did I have?

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" he said softly. "If there’s ever trouble at home..."

I turned away, busying myself with arranging flowers in a vase. "Everything’s fine, Uncle. Really."

I busied myself washing dishes, scrubbing countertops, anything to avoid his searching gaze. I knew he cared. I knew he worried. But what good would telling him do? He couldn’t protect me from Enzo. Nobody could. I was too afraid, too powerless, too... alone.

"I made your favorite cookies," Uncle Alessio said, changing the subject. "The lemon ones."

My heart squeezed. This was why I loved Tuesdays at the Omega House. These small kindnesses that reminded me what family should be.

"You spoil me," I said, genuinely smiling now.

As I worked in the kitchen, washing the last of the dishes, I mentally counted the money hidden in my backpack. Two thousand dollars—every cent I’d managed to save over the past three years. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for a one-way bus ticket far away from Northern Territory and enough to survive for a month or two until I found work.

This would be my last Tuesday with Uncle Alessio. The thought made my eyes sting with tears.

"Here," I said, placing a small package on the table beside him before I left. "Extra cookies for tomorrow. Just in case I’m... running late next week."

He looked at me strangely, as if sensing the finality in my voice. "Victoria—"

"I have to go," I cut him off, afraid I’d break down if he showed me any more kindness. "Emma’s expecting me at the bakery."

He patted my back awkwardly. "You come back next Tuesday, hear? Those flowers won’t arrange themselves."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As I walked down the cracked sidewalk away from the Omega House, I allowed myself one backward glance. Goodbye, I thought. I’ll miss you more than you’ll ever know.

The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly as I made my way down the dusty road. I pulled at the long sleeves of my shirt, wishing I could wear something cooler but unwilling to expose the bruises that mottled my arms.

I’d gone barely half a mile when a sleek black SUV pulled alongside me, moving at a crawl to match my pace. The tinted window rolled down, and my heart nearly stopped.

Leo.

His dark eyes locked onto mine, his expression inscrutable. The memory of our night together flashed through my mind—his hands on my body, his mouth against mine, the way he’d made me feel both terrified and exhilarated. I’d spent the week trying to forget him, and here he was, materializing like a phantom from my most secret dreams.

"Get in," he commanded, his deep voice brooking no argument.

I froze, my feet suddenly rooted to the ground. "I—I’m walking to the bakery."

"It’s ninety-five degrees out here," he said impatiently. "Get in the car, Victoria."

The way he said my name—like he owned it, owned me—sent shivers down my spine despite the heat.

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