Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother

I turned to see a male guard hurrying toward me. He was tall and well-built. His uniform, although neat, was stiff—clearly someone who wasn't used to dealing with me in a personal capacity.

"Your father, Don Diego De la Vega, has issued a direct order," the guard said, standing at attention. "You are to go on foot to your destination. It is his will."

What in the unholy hell?!

I froze, my face scrunched up in surprise. "What? But... but the butchery is miles away! It'll take me hours to get there on foot And I might finish late, I—"

The guard, wringing his hands, avoided my gaze. "He... he said it was for your own good, Señorita."

"My own good?" I Repeated, bewildered. "What does that even mean?"

He shrugged, looking more confused than I felt. "I... I don't know, Señorita. But... but those were his orders."

I stared at him, stunned. Of course, Don Diego would do something like this. It wasn't about safety or my well-being—it was another form of control. Another reminder of how little power I had over my own life. Another discipline Omegas deserved.

I wanted to argue, to storm in and remind father that I was still his beautiful daughter. But what was the point? I would only make things worse.

It was already hot, and the walk to the butchery was long and arduous, even in the cooler parts of the year. I was going to be drenched in sweat by the time I got there.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth, "Whatever."