A wolfless omega

                           ~ELARA~

The rag slipped from my hand as my arms shook from exhaustion. My knees ached against the splintered floor, and my back screamed from bending for hours. I had never worked like this before — never been forced to work like this.

The other omegas were scattered around the room, some scrubbing pots, others cleaning boots, others running in and out with trays of food. 

At first, they ignored me, as though I were invisible. But slowly, I felt their eyes on me.

Whispers started.

“That’s her?”

“Beta Darius’s little girl?”

“She’s nothing special. Just another wolfless freak.”

The words sliced into me like knives.

A girl with matted brown hair and a scar down her cheek walked up to me and kicked over the bucket I had been using. Dirty water spilled across the floor, soaking the hem of my dress.

“Oops,” she said, smirking. “Guess you’ll have to start over.”

The others laughed.

I clenched my fists but didn’t speak. Papa always told me to pick my battles. Right now, fighting would only make things worse.

“Look at her,” another omega sneered. “Thought she was too good for us, walking around like a little princess while her papa scared everyone into silence. Where’s that princess now?”

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

“She can’t even shift,” the scarred girl added, circling me like a predator. “She’s useless. If she wasn’t Beta’s daughter, she’d have been down here a long time ago.”

“She’s down here now,” another said with a cruel grin. “And she’s ours.”

Laughter erupted again, sharp and cruel, echoing in my skull.

I swallowed hard, forcing back the tears threatening to fall. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Instead, I dipped the rag back into the filthy water and started scrubbing again, harder this time, until my knuckles burned and my tears mixed with the dirt on the floor.

Every insult, every kick, every cruel laugh was like a brand searing itself into my skin.

I was no longer Elara, daughter of Beta Darius.

I was an omega now…. their equal, their victim, their entertainment.

But deep inside, the spark that had ignited earlier burned hotter.

One day, I would make them all regret this.

One day, I would rise again.

I kept on cleaning, ignoring them.

“You missed a spot,” a warrior snorted, kicking dirty boots over the patch I had just cleaned. “What good are you if you can’t even scrub?”

I lowered my eyes, swallowing the sharp retort that burned my tongue. Talking back only meant punishment. And punishment always hurts.

By the time the work was done, my arms felt like lead and my knees were raw. My palms were blistered, my back screamed, and my stomach twisted from hunger….they hadn’t given me a single scrap of food all day.

The Omega Masters barked orders for everyone to return to their sleeping quarters. I followed the others silently, my head down.

The quarters were worse than I expected. It's a dark, damp room with straw mats thrown carelessly across the floor. The air smelled of sweat, mildew, and despair.

“This one’s yours,” the scarred girl from earlier said with a wicked grin, kicking a dirty mat in the corner. 

It was thin, full of holes, and damp from what I prayed was only water.

I opened my mouth to say something…. anything….but the cold, mocking look in her eyes told me it was useless.

“Don’t take too much space, princess,” another omega said from her mat. “We wouldn’t want your delicate little bones getting hurt.”

Laughter rippled through the room.

I lowered myself onto the mat, feeling the straw poke through the thin fabric of my dress, and curled into a tight ball.

It was so cold.

The room eventually grew quiet, except for the sound of breathing and the occasional muffled sob from one of the younger omegas.

My own tears slid silently down my cheeks, soaking the mat beneath me.

I missed my father’s voice. His warmth. His steady presence.

Now, all I had was this……a dark corner, a broken mat, and a future as the lowest of the low.

For a moment, I wished the moon goddess would just take me too. That I wouldn’t wake up in the morning, that I wouldn’t have to feel this pain again.

But then I remembered my dream …..Papa’s voice, echoing in my mind.

"You are not weak, my little moon."

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“I’m not weak,” I whispered to myself in the darkness. “I can’t be. Not now. Not ever.”

The spark in my chest burned brighter, hotter, fiercer.

I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know when, but one day I would rise again.

I would make the Alpha regret this.

I would make them all regret this.

I would make my father proud.

I drifted to sleep on that thought, my cheeks still wet with tears, my fists clenched in determination.

Tonight, I had been reduced to nothing.

But I swore, one day, I would become everything.