His Eyes Never Leave Me

The morning in blackridge are cruel in their predictability. Cold bitter air and barked orders. All the omegas are already up before the break of dawn and doing house chores.

I scrub the hallway outside the dinning room. I keep my head down, my mouth shut and my breathing even. I have to.

“Hurry up, will you?!” one of the older omegas snaps as she eyes me with distaste.

My knees ache and scrub water bites my skin raw but I say nothing. I nod instead and quicken my pace. Everything in me fights against taking the order but I stamp it down. Obedience is currency here, scarce but necessary.

By midmorning, I'm headed into the kitchen. My body aches from the earlier work and still recovering from my wounds. But now that my wolf has awaken, the healing process is being sped up.

Omegas run around, chopping vegetables, kneading dough, few are busy with the dishes while others are busy with the contents inside pots. The heat is stifling and the air is thick with smoke and sweat.

A tray of vegetables is placed in front of me. As I chop vegetables, the gossiping begins around me.

“That new omega is weird. Doesn't talk much, does she?”

“Probably mute or brain damaged.”

I ignore them. Words are easy weapon and I've had worse thrown at me. Someone sits on the stool beside me. She's thinned, sharp-boned and has blonde hair. Her icy blue eyes stares into mine. “They will tear you apart if you continue to act as prey,” She said. “learn to grow some teeth even if they are fake.”

I nod, grateful. It's the closest thing to kindness I've seen since arriving.

A minute passes, then she says, “I'm Mira.”

I smile at her. “Selene.”

She eyes me. “You really don't talk much do you.”

I open my mouth to say something, but someone shoves a tray of food under my nose. I follow the hand holding the tray to it's owner's face.

The cook stands before me, her lips pursed. “Take this up to the Alpha's quarters.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. “me?”

“Did I stutter?” she growls, showing the tray of food into my hands. “You’ve got legs, don't you? Go!”

My fingers tremble as I clutch the heavy tray and make my way upstairs. I shouldn't feel this nervous, it's just food after all. Just have to deliver this and leave, should take a minute. But each step feels like I'm moving blindly towards a storm.

The alpha wing is quiet, too quiet. The scent of dominance hangs in the air, like a fog. Heavy and oppressive. Soon enough I'm at his door. I try to swallow around the tightness in my throat.

I knock once. There's no answer.

I'm about to knock again when a low voice comes from inside, “Enter.”

I push the door open and step in.

The room is spacious, cold and familiar in a way I can't explain. Dark curtains, dark cushions, dark wooden furniture and a king-sized bed covered in black bedsheets occupy the space.  

I inhale and my nostrils is filled with the scent of heavy pine and smoke. There's something almost comforting about it- until I see him.

He stands by the window, shirt half buttoned, hair in disarray and cold grey eyes locked on me. Watching my every move. His presence hits me like a wall and my wolf stirs beneath my skin.

Not now. Please not now.

“What's your name?” He asks.

I keep my gaze low. “Selene, Alpha.”

“New Omega?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

He says nothing more, just continues to study me. The silence stretches too long.

I break it. “Where should I place the food?”

“Keep it on the table.”

I walked over to the table in front of the cushion and keep the tray, all the while trying not to fidget under his gaze. I stand back up, keep my head bowed and wait for his permission to leave.

He steps closer. One, two, three slow steps. The air grows thinner and I'm suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

“You smell...wrong,” he murmurs.

My heart slams in my chest and I look up sharply. “I'm clean,” I stammer. “I washed.”

“That's not what I meant.”

His gaze sharpened. He inhales again, slow and deliberate. I step back too fast.

His brow furrows. “You can go.”

I don't breathe until I'm out of his wing, then I bolt down the stairs to the kitchen. Mira is standing by the door when I enter.

Her eyes narrows. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I lie.

But my hands are still trembling.

Alpha Caden leans against the edge if his bed. Eyes fixed on the tray Selene brought him. His beta, Dorian, stands nearby.

“That one,” Caden says quietly. “The new omega.”

Dorian raises an eyebrow. “What about her?"

Caden voice is low. Certain. “Watch her.”

That night I sit by the window of the Omega  quarters, knees pulled to my chest. The view of the moon and the cool night breeze offers me little comfort.

“I can't afford to slip,” I whisper to my self.

My wolf presses against my skin

Too late, she whispers back. He's already looking.