Chapter 1 The Lonely Omega

• Sarah -
• "I am sorry, Alpha; it will never happen again." I said, and I kept my head down close to the floor. The black and white tiles stared back at me; they were arranged in an alternate sequence like a chess board. I had memorised it so many times that I could trace the pattern blindly and still know the white from the black.
• I crashed into the tiles as the perfectly polished shoe crashed into my head. I bit my lips hard and squinted in pain. I feel bad for staining those shoes; it took me hours to make them glossy like glass. But it didn't satisfy the alpha, so here I was getting punished for my mistake. kept my head down and cowered before the alpha, as always. To be honest, all alphas are monsters, including him. drunk with the luxury and power they inherit from birth. I'm aware that I will probably have a few broken ribs and some bruises. To be honest, however, I don't really care since it will heal in about an hour. I've endured worse pain before, and this will be just another scar to add to my collection.
• "You stupid bitch ! Daughter of a traitor !" He muttered.
• When at last he goes, I can't help but sigh with relief. I could get back to work now and finish my chores. I'm sure I would have already been banished if I hadn't been a minor when my mother was killed. They need an omega, and as much as I'd like to leave, I can't. I also wouldn't be able to last a day out there by myself. Omegas are not very strong. I'm not very tall; I am 5"4, and I've always been on the skinny side. I have never been trained; my only skills are from the housework I do.
• My name is Sarah, I am 19, and I belong to the Cresentmoon pack. When I was 10 years old, there was a rebellion in the pack. A group of wolves wanted to overthrow the alpha, but they failed. The rebels and their supporters were executed. My mother was one of them. My dad fled, never to be seen again. I was spared because I was too young, but since then I have been demoted to being the lowest omega, facing all the menial tasks. I am not exactly an orphan; my mother's parents, that is, my grandparents, are still alive, as are my uncle, aunt, and cousins. But they have all disowned me and want nothing to do with me. After all, my mother bore shame on the family.
• I am the servant and the slave of the pack house, and I am used as a punching bag when people get furious. I live in the pack house's dismal, cold basement. I've always tried to stay out of everyone's sight, but it's hard when you're living in the middle of it.
• I straightened myself and stretched my aching side, wincing just slightly. My steps echoed softly against the linoleum floor of the packed kitchen as I hurried in, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination.
• As I entered, the head cook, Mary, with a no-nonsense demeanour, fixed me with a stern glare.
• "Sarah, you're late again," she scolded, her voice sharp with disapproval. "Do you have any idea how much work needs to be done before breakfast?"
• I swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, I lost track of time," I apologised, my voice barely above a whisper.
• The head cook huffed in exasperation before gesturing towards the massive industrial-sized ovens and countertops laden with ingredients. "Well, there's no time to waste. We've got a hungry pack to feed, and you're behind schedule. Get to work."
• With a nod, I set to work, my movements swift and efficient as I focused on the task at hand. The sounds of clanging pots and sizzling pans filled the kitchen as I chopped vegetables, cracked eggs, and flipped pancakes with practiced ease. The scent of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air. I love cooking. Although I don't get to eat much, what's left over goes to me, which means sometimes I have to go hungry if everything is gobbled up already. I am not allowed to cook anything for myself in the kitchen.
• Despite the chaos around me, I remained calm and composed, my mind focused solely on the rhythm of my work. I ignored the murmurs of criticism and the occasional glance from my fellow pack members. Hours passed in a blur as I worked tirelessly, the scent of breakfast filling the kitchen as the sun rose higher in the sky.
• I could hear folks hurrying to grab their meal, their feet thumping. Most of the time, I crawl into the corner and watch the group come in and begin to eat. I recognise each and every individual that walks by me. I waited in the corner, soundlessly. The quiet, unheard omega of the pack is unseen. I dodge a filthy dish that is headed at me with a nimble hand, rebalancing it in my palm to make it easier to carry. I have improved my reflexes thanks to my profession, which is not surprising given all the unpleasant things I've had to deal with. I ponder as I start gathering the filthy cutlery and plates, stacking them high, and then, with my other hand, carrying the platters to the kitchen. I quietly slink back and start scrubbing the dishes.
• "Sarah!" The familiar voice interrupts my thoughts as I nearly drop everything.
• "Dave, what are you doing here ?" I turned towards him. Dave and I had been friends since we were in diapers. We are the same age. His dad is the gamma of the pack.
• The Alpha and his Luna are in charge of the pack, with the Betas acting as their deputy. Gamma are pack fighters, whereas Omegas are typical workers. Dave was one of the few people in the pack who was sympathetic to me, even though his mother disapproved of it.
• "Helping you," he said while putting on the rubber gloves.
• "Your mother will be furious. You should not be here, Dave." I whispered to him.
• But Dave just shrugged and replied, "I don't care what my mother thinks. You're my friend, and I'll always have your back." With that, he dunked his hand in the kitchen sink to scrub the dishes.
• I shook my head. Dave was stubborn.
• His smile suddenly disappeared as he looked at my face.
• "Did the alpha hurt you again?"
• I nodded.
• "I am really sorry that he slapped you," he murmured as his fingers traced my cheek lightly, where the red hand print still stood out on my pale skin.
• "I'm fine, Dave; I am used to it."
• "No, it's not fine !" He seethed in anger. " I hate it that everyone mistreats you; I wish I could do something. The Alpha is supposed to protect us, not hurt us."
• "Shhh ! Not so loud." I shushed him. "I don't want you to get into any trouble because of me," I whispered, glancing around nervously. "Just forget about it for now."
• Dave didn't say anything after that, but he was grumpy. So I suggested going for a walk in the woods after everyone had gone to bed. Dave and I sometimes went on these secret rendezvous. We ran in the woods, swam in the lake, and talked about our dreams and fears under the moonlight. It was our way of escaping the harsh reality of pack life for a little while.
• Dave and I tore through the forest, our wolf forms moving in perfect harmony as we navigated the dense undergrowth. The cool breeze brushed against our fur, exhilarating us with the thrill of the chase. As we reached a tranquil clearing by the lake, we shifted back into our human forms, our chests heaving with exertion. The moonlight danced on the rippling surface of the water, casting a golden glow over the serene landscape.
• I settled down besides Dave, my eyes fixed on the endless expanse of sky above.
• "You know, Sarah," he began. "One day, I'm going to become strong enough to leave this pack behind. We'll run away together, far from the cruelty and oppression."
• I chuckled softly.
• "Oh, Dave, and your wild dreams—you can't just leave like that. Someday, you'll find your mate, and then you'll want to settle down and start a family."
• "Sarah, you're my family," he protested earnestly. "I would never leave you, no matter what."
• I smiled at his words, feeling warmth in my heart.
• "Dave, everyone deserves their chance at happiness, even if it means going separate ways someday."
• "Sarah, you will die if you continue living like this." Dave persisted.
• I shook my head, knowing that Dave's concern was genuine. "I'll find a way to survive, Dave. We always do."
• Lost in my thoughts, a sudden knock on the door shattered the fragile peace surrounding me. With a furrowed brow, I made my way to the door and pulled it open, revealing Dave standing on the other side, his expression a mix of worry and anger.
• "Did Rory bother you?" Dave asked, his voice tense with concern as he scanned my face for any signs of distress.
• I sighed inwardly, knowing that Dave's presence here could cause trouble. "Why are you here?" I countered softly, casting a cautious glance down the hallway. "Your mum would be furious if she found out you came to see me."
• Ignoring my words, Dave pressed on, his worry evident in every line of his face. "Tell me if he's bothering you; I'll take care of him," he insisted, his tone tinged with anger.
• I shook my head, trying to downplay the situation. "It's not a big deal," I replied, hoping to ease his concerns. "I can handle it."
• But Dave's anger only seemed to intensify at my nonchalant response. "I'll kill him if he tries to hurt you," he declared, his voice low and fierce.
• Alarmed, I reached out to placate him, my words coming out in a rush. "Dave, you can't say things like that," I admonished, my voice tinged with worry. "You'll be deemed a traitor if anyone overhears you."
• But Dave's expression remained resolute, his gaze unwavering. "I don't care," he replied defiantly, his fists clenched at his sides. "I won't let anyone harm you."
• I felt a swell of gratitude wash over me at his unwavering loyalty, but also a pang of fear at the consequences his words could bring.