Y/N hauled crates alone in the downpour, her small Omega frame hunched under the weight. Every lift carved raw lines across her arms. Her palms were blistered, bleeding in places. She hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours in the last three days. She barely ate. The debt her low-level Alpha boss had fabricated for “lost inventory” was a trap she could never pay back. A leash. A punishment. A game.