No Escape 

Jane drove to the beach and spent an hour walking the beach holding her shoes in her hand and letting the waves suck at her feet. She found a little café and ate her salad watching the wash of the waves towards the shore.

What was she going to do? She wondered. Just over a month married, and her husband did not want her and openly kept a mistress who believed that it was just a matter of time until he divorced Jane and married her instead.

She turned her phone over in her hands. She finished her meal and returned to her car, sitting in the driver’s seat, and dialling her father’s number.

“Hello Jane,” he answered promptly.

“Daddy,” she fought back her tears. “I want to come home.”

He sighed heavily. “Jane,” he said with patience. “What is this ridiculousness about?”

“Baron doesn’t love me,” the tears fell free and tracked down her face. “He only married me because of the connection to you. He keeps Angelique openly as his mistress, and she says that he will only keep me as his wife for as long as the connection matters, and then he will divorce me and marry her instead, and, oh,” her voice broke on a sob. “Daddyplease.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Why would Angelique think the connection would cease to matter?” He wondered.

That was he took from her babbled distress, she thought bitterly. “I don’t know.” 

need to find out,” he was curt with it. “Call me back when

her face with her hands and sobbed out her

the family wealth and the leadership of the pack. Her two brothers,

cruelty was just due to the game they were playing, and that Jane was over-reacting. As they’d gotten older,

what Jane had experienced

been arranged, she had foolishly thought that finally someone saw her for herself, despite her rank in the pack, and that she would escape the daily torment, and finally be able

herself. Of course, there was no escape for her, because she was still her, still part of the pack, and still an omega, the pathetic, washed-out

finding the driveway blocked by a bright array of expensive sports cars, leaving her no choice but to park under a tree, and walk the rest of the way. Angelique had friends over, and they were enjoying the bright day, sun-baking in bikinis and sipping cocktails

up, so as to avoid any that might be inside the house. Her bedroom door

dresses,” a woman declared. “This one isn’t bad, actually. Could be cute if done up right.” They were going through her things,

commented. “Do you

declared. “Probably wouldn’t be interesting to read anyway, her whole pathetic life

“Who is this?”

she looks just like her. That would be her mother.

into laughter, and Jane felt a sharp strike

her fear of them, she

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