Chapter 6 Injustice

• Lilieth
• "Right this way," the woman from the front desk says to me dryly, not a hint of emotion in her voice.
• I'm starting to think is just her usual way of communicating with people. A few of the other participants who walked past us a few moments ago commented on her stylish golden dress and she thanked them in the same tone she used to give me directions.
• At least she isn't being discriminatory, which is what I expect from everyone here.
• I'm aware that the majority won't be happy with my presence here. My mother warned me about this, and at this moment, as I follow the administrator through a narrow, dimly lit passageway deep inside the Noctem Lunae building, I let her words strengthen me.
• I miss her already.
• A lot.
• The realization that I won't be able to see her, my siblings, or my friends for three whole months scrapes against my chest, leaving tender welts behind. All my life, the village and my stereotypical omega existence was all I knew. This acceptance letter came from out of nowhere, turning everything upside down.
• I have to admit that the thought of quitting early and running back home crosses my mind. Who cares about better job opportunities? A job is a job. I can get one anywhere. I've always been a reliable worker. Hardworking. I don't need to humiliate myself here to prove a point to anyone.
• However, this is the very thought that convinces me to stay and fight. Running away now will convince these people of what they think is true—that omegas aren't capable of anything. That we're a breed of wolves born only to serve them and follow orders without question.
• And yes, I've met many omegas who kept their heads down, refusing to attract too much attention to themselves. Content with the bare minimum. Believing—truly believing—that Alpha-borns know best because of their positions in the pack.
• Granted, it's never wise to challenge them. Everyone has their place in a pack; that's what we've always been told.
• But I'm not committing a crime here. I've been accepted into the academy to potentially become a Luna. No omega has ever passed those tests; I'm the first. That in itself is proof that we're capable.
• We're not beneath anyone, not if one of us can do what the other wolves can.
• I let these thoughts distract me so I can hopefully forget who it is that's funding this competition—who the alpha is that every girl here will be fighting tooth and nail to marry. Him? It boggles my mind every time his face appears at the forefront of my mind.
• When I came across him in the field, I never could have imagined that he was our alpha. We were all present when the announcement was made that the old alpha was stepping down to let his younger and more capable son take care of the pack. We showed up late to the event, so we stayed behind the large crowd, barely seeing anything.
• The sun was beating down on us. It was an uncommonly hot day and all I wanted was to return to our cool shack. I don't think anyone took a close look at his face—what does it matter, anyway? New alpha, old alpha. It all means the same to us.
• Nothing ever changes for omegas. It doesn't matter who rules the pack. Hell, even Larena didn't recognize him.
• The name he called me springs to mind, and I feel this strange, uncomfortable heat deep inside of me, one akin to anger. I always knew that I wouldn't stand a chance to get anywhere near the end of this competition, but now, with him as the alpha, I'm absolutely certain that I'll only spend three months here. If they don't find a reason to kick me out earlier.
• The way he looked at me, fury and confusion blazing in his eyes, convinced me of that.
• "Here we are," the woman proclaims as we stop in front of a small wooden door. "This is where you'll be sleeping for the next months."
• I turn my head left and right, taking in the sight before me as if for the first time. She pushes the door open as she enters the room, gesturing for me to follow. I take one look at the interior and realize exactly what's happening here.
• One small bed. A wooden floor that looks like it's never been replaced since the academy was built. Ancient furniture with this characteristic rich and earthy scent that reminds me of the shack. There's this damp smell in the air, too. I'm guessing that it's emanating from the mattress. It's probably all yellow and mildewed beneath the crisp white sheets they've used to hide it.
• "This is where you'll be sleeping," she informs me.
• I can't keep the bite from my tone. "Yes, in this old room where no Alpha- or Beta-born would ever step a toe in."
• "I didn't make the arrangements," she claims, putting her hands together, sounding just as calm as she did moments ago. "Your instructor for the first quarter will be here shortly to explain the proceedings to you. Good day."
• Flabbergasted, I watch as she heads toward the door, leaving me by myself. I glance around the room, taking in the details. My trunk is already here, and the truth is that it fits perfectly in here. This room, as simple as it is, is much more comfortable and spacious than the one I share with Anice back home.
• That's true.
• It's the fact that they're only assigning me this room because I'm omega that I find so offensive. It's a slap in the face. A cruel, cold reminder that I don't deserve the respect and comfort that the others do.
• I don't consider myself an entitled person, but I can recognize injustice when it's done to me, and there's no reason why I have to accept that with open arms.
• This is exactly what they expect from us.
• I open my trunk, pulling a few of my clothes out to hang in the closet. At least it's clean and free of dust. I don't have a lot of things, so I finish packing in under ten minutes. I'm just checking the mattress when I hear a quick rapping on the door. The instructor.
• I cover it with the sheet again before smoothing my hands down my dress and opening the door with a quick turn of the handle. The man who spoke to me earlier—the one I'd guessed was an instructor due to his age—is standing before me.
• "Grimwylde," he says curtly before handing me a rolled up piece of paper, tied in place with a bright red silky ribbon, "this is for you. I'll be your instructor this quarter. My name is Golen Wylde. I expect you to call me Instructor Wylde."
• "Wylde?" I blurt out.
• He eyes me coldly. Mechanically. For some reason, it makes me want to swallow every word I could even think of uttering in his presence.
• "If you have any sensible, intelligent questions regarding the quarter, you're free to ask them now. If not, I trust you'll find all the information you need on the pamphlet. Good day."
• Just as he turns his back to me, I speak, ignoring how hot my cheeks are after the callous response he just gave me. "Why have I been placed in this room?"
• He halts and glances at me, his eyes hard. "Why? Are you displeased? Disappointed?"
• I press my lips together, contemplating my next choice of words. "No. Just curious about your fairness, Instructor Wylde."
• "My fairness?"
• "That of the academy," I clarify.
• A cold smile touches his lips but not his eyes, which happen to be honey-colored but strangely devoid of warmth. His response to this is, "We placed you here because we thought you'd feel more comfortable isolated from everyone else. Let us not act like you being an omega won't complicate things. This is for your safety, make no mistake of that. Be on time tomorrow. I deduct points for tardiness."
• With that, he continues down the corridor, and as I close the door, I realize that I don't believe him.