Chapter 7

There was something in the air today. I was used to feeling things when I had my wolf, but I didn't anymore, yet I felt something that I couldn't put my hands on.

I woke up early just like every day to make food for everybody because that's what my husband thinks I'm good for.

Pack cook and cleaner, treated with less respect than the lowest Omega.

The pack needed to be fed. Two dozen burly wolves needed to be fueled for their patrols, their training, and their lives. The life that wasn't mine. Another day, another lifetime lived in the shadow of what could have been.

The packhouse was starting to awake, the sounds of yawning, grumbling, and the heavy thud of boots echoing through the halls. I started trembling because they'll all arrive at once, and I'll face the consequences of being late.

I tried to get everything done as soon as I could because I woke up at 3:00 a.m., and I managed to clean this place without any help, and also tried to take a break first for dozens of people, and I don't even have a wolf that will help me get it done quicker. I didn't deserve this life. No, I didn't sign up for it, but in time, everybody started to notice how Mark treated me like Trash, and they started to do the same.

I'm just a Luna because of the name and because he refuses to let me go, but other than that, I'm just the woman that they use to get anything that they want.

Mark makes it seem like that's what a luna's job is, but my mother didn't do this on a daily basis. Rather, she helped whenever she could, but it was never compulsory. I could understand if I was just helping a few people, but they push me around, and I can't even complain to my husband because he would rather believe a stranger rather than me, because I'm the Girl Who cheated on him with his brother.

Cheated may be a word that works for him, but I will never regret what happened between me and Griffin because he gave me the best years of my life, and those are the only memories that I carry in my heart to date.

They came down like they usually do piling up with me to hand them their plate and everything and luckily a few low ranking members of the Pack helped me with dishing up but still everything was ultimately left to me.

Even if I did everything right today, I'm still going to get a beating because there's something that I will do wrong in Mark's eyes, or somebody who will tell him that I did something wrong, and he will punish me for it.

My legs, my hands, and everything hurt, but it was only morning, and I still had to make lunch wash the dishes and do a whole lot more, and I'm not a machine.

"Mama."

I didn't have the time or the luxury to stop, but I couldn't do anything while my boy looked like he was crying because I left him asleep.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I knelt down, pulling him close, inhaling the babish scent of him.

"They... they said I was a freak again." He whispered, burying his face in my shoulder. "They said I don't belong here."

He was a miniature version of Griffin, with the same wild, untamed hair and the same bright, intelligent eyes. Eyes that were now brimming with tears. They treated him just like they once treated him, father. They saw his quietness as his weakness, and they used it against him.

My heart broke. He was only five, too young to understand the pack politics. Too young to understand that the weak preyed on but vultures, but I know he will be different like his father when he grows up.

How many times had Griffin endured this, the whispered insults, the sidelong glances, the constant reminder that he didn't belong? He'd carried it with a grace I could only envy now that I see myself living through.

They're just being silly, Keith. Don't listen to them." I said, and it's become a chorus that I always sing to him because this happens every single day.

"But why, Mama?" Keith’s voice was small, lost. "Why don't they like me? Why doesn't Dad tell them to stop like Leon's dad did?"

I've never seen that 5-year-old as mature as my son, and I hope one day he will grow up to understand.

Mark resents him for what happened between me and Griffin. He hadn't wanted to raise another man's son. He probably thought I would have his child somewhere along the line, and I would forget about my son, but luckily, it hasn't happened.

"Just don't play with them, sweetheart." I said, my voice tight. "Find other things to do."

I tried to convince him, but I know how lonely it is for him to see other kids playing together, but when he goes to them, he gets shunned. I hope a miracle happens one day, and I will confront every one of them for what they did to me and my son and make them pay for every tear he sheds.

"What's all this noise? I can't even get a decent cup of coffee without you two whining about something." I heard Mark's voice before I could even see him, and I stiffened because that's never a good thing.

"I hope you're not here complaining about something to your mother because next time I hear you complaining, I'll give you something to actually cry about. Understood?" He glared, and my son and I soared.

Keith flinched, his eyes widening with fear. He mumbled a barely audible, "Yes, dad," and ran out of the kitchen.

I knew what was coming for me, but just as I was about to string up, a thousand apologies that probably will be disregarded, my heart began to pound.

It felt like every hair on my body was standing on end. The air grew thick, and my senses heightened.

"Griffin," I mumbled.