Rejected And Claimed By Them

 

“Lily, are you sure you’re okay with this?”

My mother’s voice was soft, but it carried a weight of worry that settled deep in my chest. I looked up from where I was tying my hair back, and met her eyes kind, tired, and lined with years of trying to protect me in a world that seemed determined to make life hard. Her face was wrinkled, her hands rough from years of work, but whenever she looked at me, there was always a warmth that made even the darkest days feel a little lighter.

I gave her a small, reassuring smile, even though my stomach felt tight. “I’m fine, Mom. It’s just cleaning. I’ve done it a hundred times before.”

She reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, her touch gentle. “I know, but… you know how some people are. They don’t see you as one of them, no matter how long you’ve been here.”

I nodded, because it was the truth. I had been adopted by them when I was just a tiny baby, left on the steps of their small cottage with nothing but a blanket and a name tag. They had raised me as their own, loved me as their own, but in a werewolf pack, blood and status meant everything. I was an omega the lowest rank, the one expected to serve, to stay quiet, and to never expect more than what was given. And even though my parents treated me like their whole world, the rest of the pack never let me forget where I stood.

“I’ll be careful,” I promised. “And I’ll finish quickly so I can get ready for school.”

With one last, lingering look, she let me go.

Cleaning the main corridor of the pack house was a simple task, really. It was something I had grown used to over the years sweeping away dust, mopping the stone floors until they shone, making sure everything was neat and tidy for the higher-ranking members who lived and worked here. But even though the work itself wasn’t hard, it could be draining. Not just on my body, but on my spirit. There was something about walking these halls, knowing that every step I took was watched, every action judged, that made the air feel heavier than it should.

I was seventeen now, in my final year of high school. Most girls my age were talking about parties, about their future, about finding their mates. But for me, life was different. Being an omega meant walking a narrow line do your work, keep your head down, don’t draw attention, and never, ever challenge anyone above you. It was a life of constant caution, a life where even breathing too loudly could be seen as a sign of disrespect.

The omega position was not something most people could truly understand unless they lived it. We were seen as soft, as weak, as good only for labor and for producing heirs. We were given the smallest rooms, the least food, the hardest work. We were expected to be obedient, to smile when spoken to, and to never, ever raise our voices. It was a heavy weight to carry, but I had learned early on that the only way to survive was to be invisible as much as possible.

I finished mopping the last stretch of floor and leaned against the wall for a moment, wiping the sweat from my forehead. The clock on the wall told me it was exactly 7:30 a.m. My classes started at 8:30, which gave me just enough time to wash up, change into my uniform, and walk to the school grounds. I rolled up the mop and bucket, ready to head to the storage room, when I heard it the sharp, clicking sound of high heels against the stone floor, echoing down the hall.

My shoulders tensed before I even saw her. I knew that sound. I knew it better than I knew my own heartbeat.

“What do we have here?”

The voice was high, sharp, and dripping with disdain. I kept my head down, my hands tightening around the handle of the bucket, hoping that if I ignored her, she would just walk past. But I knew better. She never did.

“The pathetic little omega is here, wiping this dirty floor like the good little servant you are.”

I looked up just enough to see her Catherine, the daughter of the pack’s Beta. She was standing there with one hand on her hip, her blonde hair perfectly styled, wearing clothes that were far too revealing for the morning. She was pretty, in a sharp, cold sort of way, but there was a cruelty in her eyes that made her beauty feel like a mask. She looked me up and down, her nose wrinkling as if the very sight of me offended her.

I didn’t answer. I just turned away, ready to finish my task and leave. But that seemed to only make her angrier.

“You ignorant bitch!” she snapped, stepping closer. “Who do you think you are, ignoring me? I am the daughter of the Beta! And soon, I will be the future Luna when Jazzen takes his place as Alpha! You will show me respect!”

My jaw tightened, but I still said nothing. Arguing with her would only lead to trouble. It would give her an excuse to make a scene, and if she did that, my parents would be the ones who suffered. They could take things away from them their home, their work, their place in the pack. I couldn’t let that happen.

But Catherine wasn’t in the mood to be ignored. With a snarl, she swung her handbag hard toward my face. Before I could react, the sharp metal corner of the bag connected with my right cheek.

Pain exploded across my skin, hot and stinging. I stumbled back, my hand flying up to cover the wound. When I pulled my fingers away, they were red with blood. It trickled down my jawline, dripping onto the clean floor I had just spent an hour polishing.

“Look at you,” she sneered, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “Serves you right, you pathetic loser. Maybe next time you’ll learn to bow when someone important speaks to you.”

She stood there for a moment longer, enjoying the sight of me in pain, before turning on her heel and walking away, the sound of her heels fading down the hall.

I stood there for a long time, my hand still pressed to my cheek. This wasn’t new. Catherine had been picking on me since we were five years old. It had started with small things hiding my things, calling me names but as we grew older, it had gotten worse. More cruel. More violent. Sometimes I wondered why she hated me so much. Maybe it was because I was adopted, an outsider in her eyes. Or maybe… maybe it was because of how I looked.

I had long, silky white hair that fell past my waist, something that was rare even among werewolves. My eyelashes were thick and dark, standing out against my pale, porcelain-like skin. And my eyes bright, vivid emerald green. I had been told more than once that I was beautiful, but in this pack, beauty was a curse for an omega. It drew attention. It drew jealousy. And it seemed to draw it straight from Catherine.

I took a deep, shaky breath, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. I would not cry. Not here. Not where she could see. I finished putting away the cleaning supplies, cleaned up the small spot of blood on the floor, and then made my way toward the public bathhouse.

Omegas were not given their own private bathrooms like the higher-ranking members. We had to share a large, old building near the edge of the pack grounds. It was always cold, and the water was never as warm as it should be, but it was better than nothing. I washed carefully, cleaning the cut on my cheek as gently as I could. It stung, but it would heal quickly werewolves healed faster than humans, after all. But the hurt inside didn’t heal as easily.

By the time I was dressed in my plain gray school uniform the one that marked me as an omega student it was almost time to leave. The walk to the school was about twenty minutes, and as I stepped outside, a cold wind swept through the trees, making me pull my thin cardigan tighter around myself.

Every step toward the school felt like walking toward a prison. I was back in this hellish place again. The school was divided strictly by rank. Alphas and Betas had their own building, with big classrooms, comfortable chairs, and teachers who treated them with respect. Omegas? We were kept separate, in a smaller, older wing at the back of the grounds. Our classrooms were drafty, our books were old and worn out, and the teachers… well, they made no secret of how they felt about us. They were strict, quick to scold, and seemed to believe that we were only there to learn how to be better servants.

Listening to them talk could be boring, and sometimes humiliating. They would often remind us of our place, telling us that our purpose was to serve the pack, to be obedient, and to never dream of being anything more. But even so, I was grateful. Not all omegas were allowed to go to school. Many were put to work as soon as they were old enough. The fact that my parents had fought for me to have this chance meant the world to me. I wanted to learn. I wanted to know things, even if it felt like no one here thought I deserved to.

The morning passed slowly. I took careful notes, kept my head down, and tried not to draw any attention to myself. When the bell finally rang for break time, the sound echoed through the halls, and immediately, students from every rank began rushing toward the cafeteria.

I waited until most of them had gone, then followed at a slower pace. I had no friends here. No one wanted to be seen talking to an omega. It would ruin their reputation. So I was used to being alone. I preferred it, really it meant I didn’t have to listen to the whispers or the laughter behind my back.

The cafeteria was large and warm, filled with the smell of food. Today, they were serving sandwiches, fresh orange juice, spaghetti with meat sauce, and cold cola. For me, it looked like a feast. Back at the pack house, omegas were given simple, bland meals mostly bread, vegetables, and very little meat. So being able to eat something that actually tasted good was a rare treat.

I picked up a tray, loaded it with a little bit of everything, and then looked around the room. Most of the tables were already filled with groups of students, laughing and talking. I looked for the most secluded spot I could find a small table in the far corner, near the windows, where no one usually sat.

But as I began to walk toward it, I noticed something strange. The noise in the room seemed to lower, just a little. I looked up and saw that almost every eye in the room was turned toward the entrance behind me.

“Hey, watch your step, woman. Step aside.”

The voice was deep, sharp, and carried authority without even trying. I quickly moved to the side, pressing myself against the wall to give them room. A group of boys walked past me tall, broad-shouldered, all with that confident, powerful air that came with being born higher-ranking. Their hair was neat, their uniforms crisp, and their eyes scanned the room like they owned it.

At the front of them was Jazzen.

My breath caught in my throat before I could stop it. He was the Alpha’s son, next in line to lead the pack. He was everything an Alpha was supposed to be strong, handsome, with dark hair that fell just above his eyes and a jawline that looked like it had been carved from stone. His eyes were a deep, stormy gray, and as he walked, he seemed to carry the whole room’s attention with him.

I felt my heart beat a little faster, but I quickly looked down, staring at the tray in my hands. I didn’t dare look too long. Looking at someone like him, especially as an omega, was seen as bold. As disrespectful.

Once they had passed and taken their seats at the large table at the very front of the room, I let out the breath I was holding and continued toward my corner. I sat down, placed my tray on the table, and reached for my sandwich, ready to enjoy a few minutes of peace.

But peace was never something I was allowed to have for long.

“Hey! You stupid woman! Can’t you see I’m eating here? Your ugly face is disgusting me!”

I looked up to see Catherine standing near another table, her face twisted in anger. She was pointing at a girl sitting a few feet away a quiet girl with glasses, who always sat by herself. The girl’s face went pale, and she quickly gathered her things and ran out of the cafeteria, her head bowed, looking like she was about to cry.

Catherine laughed, a harsh, cold sound, and turned back to her own food. I felt a twist of pity in my chest, but I knew better than to say anything. If I spoke up, I would be next. Omegas were not supposed to defend anyone. We were simply meant to be used, to work, and to be ignored unless someone wanted to hurt us.

But then Catherine’s gaze drifted across the room and landed directly on me. Her smile widened, and she pushed her chair back, standing up and walking straight toward my table.

My stomach dropped. Here we go again.

“What do we have here?” she said, stopping right in front of me, blocking the light from the window. “Is the little omega trying to get the attention of my future Alpha? I saw you just now staring at Jazzen as he walked past. You even stepped forward to get a better look, didn’t you?”

I stared at her, surprised by her words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. “I simply stepped aside so they could pass. You’re being delusional.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Delusional? How dare you speak to me like that, you little rat! You think you can look at him? You think someone like you could ever be worthy of even breathing the same air as him?”

Before I could reply, she grabbed the metal tray from her own table and swung it down hard, right onto my food. Spaghetti, sauce, juice, and cola splattered everywhere all over my uniform, all over my face and hair, dripping onto the floor.

The room went quiet for a split second, before erupting into laughter and cheers.

Catherine stood there, looking pleased with herself. She knew she could do this. She knew that as the Beta’s daughter, no one would stop her. The teachers would look the other way. The other students would laugh along. And I would be the one left covered in food and embarrassment.

I stood up slowly, wiping a strand of sticky hair from my face. My cheeks burned, but I refused to let the tears come. I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Without saying a word, I turned and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving the laughter behind me.

 

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. I managed to clean myself up as best I could in the bathroom, but the smell of sauce and cola clung to my clothes, and I could feel people staring at me wherever I went. By the time the final bell rang, I was more than ready to leave.

But there was no rest waiting for me at home. As soon as I walked through the gates of the pack grounds, I could see that everyone was in a rush. There were tables being set up, decorations being hung, men carrying large crates of food and drink, women arranging flowers.

Tomorrow was the Alpha’s birthday.

It was the biggest event of the year. The entire pack would gather, and Alphas and Lunas from neighboring packs would be coming to visit. It was supposed to be a grand celebration, a show of strength and unity. But for the omegas, it meant more work. A lot more work.

I was sent to help clean the large backyard area where the feast would be held. The wind was cold as I swept the fallen leaves and wiped down the wooden tables, but I didn’t mind it so much. It was quiet here, away from the eyes and the whispers. As I worked, my mind began to wander.

In the world of werewolves, the greatest gift anyone could hope for was a mate. It was a bond formed by the moon goddess a connection that went deeper than anything else. A mate was supposed to be your other half, someone who would love you, protect you, and stand by you no matter what.

I had thought about it many times, especially when I was younger. I had dreamed of finding my mate — someone who would see me, not as an omega, not as a servant, but as a person. Someone who would take me away from all this, who would hold me and tell me I was worth something. But as I grew older, those dreams had faded. I knew the truth. An omega’s mate was almost always someone of higher rank, and even if they were fated to be with you, many would reject the bond, too ashamed to be tied to someone so low.

Still, a small part of me still held onto that hope. Even if it was foolish.

When evening came, the work changed. Now that the guests would be arriving soon, it was time for us to serve. I was given a black uniform a simple fitted top and a short skirt and told to carry trays of food and drinks to the tables. It was something I had done before, working as a waitress during events like this. My feet were sore, and my back ached, but I kept moving, smiling politely even when I felt like disappearing.

After serving several tables, I took a moment to catch my breath near the edge of the garden. The air smelled of roasted meat and flowers, and music was starting to play from the main hall. I glanced toward the entrance, and my eyes fell on Jazzen.

He was standing near the front, talking to a few other young men, looking even more handsome than before in his dark coat. He laughed at something one of them said, and for a moment, I felt that strange pull in my chest again something warm and familiar, like I was looking at someone I had known forever. I didn’t understand it. I barely knew him. We had never spoken. But there was something about him that made my heart feel light, even when everything else felt heavy.

I quickly looked away, telling myself to stop being ridiculous. He was the future Alpha. Catherine was already claiming him as her own. He would never look twice at someone like me.

But a few seconds later, I felt eyes on me. I looked up again, and saw that the group of young men had turned their attention toward where I stood. Jazzen was looking at me, his expression unreadable, but beside him was another man taller, with dark hair and eyes that seemed to burn right through me. His gaze was heavy, intense, and there was something in it that made my skin crawl. It wasn’t like the warmth I felt when I looked at Jazzen. This was something else hungry, disrespectful, dangerous.

I took a step back, ready to turn and walk away, but before I could move, he pushed off the wall and began walking straight toward me.

My heart began to race. I didn’t know who he was, but he was clearly an Alpha, judging by the way he carried himself. I looked around, hoping someone would notice, but everyone was too busy talking and eating.

“Hello there,” he said, stopping right in front of me. His voice was smooth, but it sent a shiver down my spine. “I haven’t seen you around before. What’s your name, little one?”

“I’m just serving,” I said softly, keeping my eyes on the ground. “Excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

I tried to step past him, but he moved quickly, reaching out and grabbing my wrist in a grip that was hard and painful. His fingers dug into my skin, and he pulled me closer, away from the crowd and toward the dark corner of the garden where no one could see.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m done looking at you. You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Especially for an omega.”

Fear coiled tight in my stomach. I pulled against his grip, but he was much stronger than me. “Let me go!” I hissed, trying to pull my hand free.

He laughed, a cold, ugly sound. “Or what? Who’s going to stop me? You’re nothing. Omegas exist to please us, don’t they?”