Star-
I hate my life.
I really do.
It’s like a never-ending loop with the same miserable, boring life going on and on and on.
“Star, which dress do you think looks better on me? The blue or black one?”
Her preppy voice pulls me out of my trance and I slowly raise my head towards Blythe in an attempt to give her a response, but she promptly cuts me off.
"Your opinion doesn’t matter, though; don’t bother."
Look at her go.
I keep my mouth shut and carry on cleaning up the mess that she made earlier on her polished concrete floor.
Her room is completely disorganised, and there are smudges of nail polish on numerous items, including the floor, gowns, and makeup. But no worries; Star will save the day like she always does.
“What the hell am I going to wear?” Blythe complains and stomps her feet in front of her wardrobe like a toddler.
Ugh, she makes me sick.
There’s a pair-ridden gala tonight, and no werewolf wants to shut up about it. A gala that Alpha Ark and Alpha Ron of the Bluemoon are hosting, and every sane, mateless wolf is obliged to attend, and little Miss Perfect Blythe wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Since she’s seventeen and close to finding her mate, there’s a high chance she might meet him at the gala tonight, and that would make literally everyone in the pack house proud of her.
From Ark, her father, the Alpha of the Redmoon Pack, to her mother, Moria, the Luna of the Pack
It’s how Blythe has always set the standards here. From her sheer amount of beauty to the attention she receives from everyone. She acts like she’s nice but she’s not… and well especially to me.
Every girl in the Redmoon pack wants to be like her, and as the Alpha’s daughter, I am hundred percent sure Alpha Ark is crazy proud of his daughter. It’s obvious.
And then there’s me...
A worthless omega, like the majority states…
At the age of one, Alpha Ark and his beloved Luna Moira took me in after finding me stranded by a riverside. Not knowing my birth parents or who I was within my old pack, instead of abandoning me. They took me in and labeled me an omega.
If I can recall, they never really treated me well or too badly.
But I’m glad they didn’t abandon me. There's not enough sympathy that floods into everyone to take someone else’s child in.
And to top my miserable life all together,
Every werewolf’s first shift is between the ages of sixteen and seventeen, and that’s when they get their wolf. And give their wolf a name.
It is a beautiful moment, which I have yearned for.
But I am nineteen, and I feel hopeless. Dead on the inside. I haven't shifted once, like the others.
Why am I different?
“Screw this; I hate having nothing to wear." scowls Blythe. And, believe me, her closet is overflowing with lovely gowns.
“F*ck this. I’m done here." Little Miss Perfect adds before walking over my cleaning materials and intentionally spilling the water from the pail in front of me, drenching my pants and other things around.
"Oops,” she says, nonchalantly walking out the door.
I sigh and take a breather before going on to clean again.
This is my life; I have no say in this or whatsoever.
All I really want is to find my mate and get out of this mess.
Oh am I kidding ? I just want to have my first shift.
Nobody likes me here; nobody sees me. I am clearly invisible, and I feel like I can only be someone again if I find my mate or have my first shift with a wolf , with a nice name.
I do not know who my parents were, but living like this, I am pretty sure they were lower than omegas.
-
Rounding up Blythe’s room, I take my cleaning materials and head downstairs to help the rest of the omegas clean the pack house.
Even among the omegas, I am treated more shabbily; they believe I am nothing more than a hindrance to Alpha Ark for taking me in because I am wolf-less, which makes me less valuable and gives more room for bullying. And sometimes, some omegas walk all over me just because they’re not wolf-less, and they see more reason to celebrate life because they’re not like me.
I am truly an outcast.
I am whatever is below omega.
If Alpha Ark hadn’t found me between the borderlines of the Redmoom pack and the Night-Wind pack with a medallion of our pack’s name boldly inscribed on the medallion and around my neck, and with my enhanced sense of hearing and smell.
Then I would have taken every chance to believe I was human.
Because somehow, in twenty years, the night-wind pack has gone extinct. There is no trace of them, and me being the only survivor sounds a bit unbelievable.
I’ve asked Alpha Ark about it once, but he didn’t fail to keep his mouth shut. Saying I survived and it is a blessing, and I ought to thank the moon goddess and worry less about what happened twenty years ago and quit to asking. He was rude about it.
Gosh, I hate everything.
"Okay, scoot over." One of the omegas, Aliya, sneers as I start to clean closer to her.
This is nothing.
“I’m sorry” I apologise; I am unable to look her in the eye.
“Of course you are.” She scoffs and continues cleaning as I step away.
“Star, why don’t you join the rest of the wolves in setting the hall for the gala? Trust me, no one wants to look into your weird eyes while working here,” another omega snickers, and they all share a brutal laugh.
I hate them.
I hate this place. It’s no new feeling.
I sigh and gently pick up my pail without putting up a fight.
Who am I to put up a fight? They might beat me into a pulp.
One of the female omegas suddenly positions her leg as a trap for me, leading me to walk over it and lose my balance as I take one step forward.
Fortunately, I am quick enough to use the pail in my hand to balance my body and save myself from falling.
“She’s annoying” My sharp sense of hearing picks up the word said by a girl behind the room’s pillar.
I sigh.
I make my way out of the pack house when I come across Luna Moria. Alpha Ark’s beautiful prize possession and Blythe’s mother
I really don’t know where Blythe got her nasty behaviour, but her mother, Moria, is an angel. Well, sometimes, just don’t try to leave a paw print on her possessions; she gets nasty.
"Star.” She beams at me, her eyes crossing my saggy outfit and worn-out cleaning apron.
“Why are you cleaning with the others and not dressed?” Moria shakes her head in disbelief.
My orbs widened. “Dressed for what?” I ask in unison with my subconscious.
“The gala, silly,” she grins a little too widely.
She seems to be in a good mood.
But it doesn't stop the exciting twist that starts to grow in my stomach.
“Really? I am allowed to go." I almost choke on my own words.
“Tonight’s gala is not for everyone, but I’m pretty sure Ark would rather you attend the party than wait tables.”
I don’t know when I start to grin like a weirdo, but I know I suddenly can’t contain this sudden wave of happiness, and I let it show.
For the first time in nineteen years, I am finally being seen.
I knew it. I knew If anyone was going to see me, it'd be either Alpha Ark or Luna Moria.
They’re both so amazing.
“Thank you so much." I am grinning so much that my mouth is starting to hurt.
“It’s nothing; now hurry up." Moria shoos me, and I can’t help but giggle as I make my way back to the chaft.
The chaft is where all the omegas who clean the pack house reside. It’s a portable cottage-like dorm to us, and it is really convenient. The Redmoon pack is really loaded.
A really huge dorm, if you ask me.
I make my way to my room and immediately strip.
After a quick shower, I am now dressed in a pale blue dress with little to no design.
It is not much, but it is all I have. A hand-me-down from Luna Moria I mean, it was nice enough for her to lend me the dress in the first place.
With the tiny broken mirror on my wall, I take in my reflection.
Apart from the medallion around my neck that has partly proved I am a werewolf, my eyes are something else.
One of my eyes is silver, and the other is scarlet red.
Werewolves have a variety of beautiful-coloured eyes. But in my case, I was born with two different colours.
Who the hell were my parents, and why did they have to endow me with even more weird birth qualities? Even the rest of the omegas hates me for this.
I tuck my dark raven hair behind my ears, letting the tiny strands cascade with the rest of the hair as it sits below my lower back.
I leave the cottage through the back door to avoid drawing attention to myself. So I can make it quietly to the party.
With a smile on my face, I make my way around the pack house, and after a few feet, I meet the hall where the gala is being held.
The decoration is as perfect as ever; all the girls of different ages are all dressed up, and wow, they look amazing. I feel weird already. Just a few steps forward, and I’ll be among these girls.
The moon is brightly lit, and as I take a peak at the crescent moon above the sky, I subconsciously try to pick up any ounce of confidence to move forward.
My first party
I haven’t been to a party before or any sort of celebration; it’s weird that, despite holding a lot of parties and get-ups, Alpha Ark and Luna Moria decided to invite me to this. I’m not questioning it, because I love that I am being noticed.
Not a lot of omegas get invited to these. I feel special already.
Is it my time already? Is my life going to take a different turn now?
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Star. It’s just one Gala.
As I take a step forward, I suddenly stop breathing.
Not because I wanted to, but because I can’t.
This heavy wave of heat eradicates my body, causing a sudden sweat. My stomach and head start to daze and roar in an inexplicable way simultaneously.
My skin starts to feel like I am being pierced with tiny daggers as my blood rises up to my head.
I try to breathe through my mouth and my nose. But it feels like something is choking me.
Wait, what is happening to me?
.
.*
