Not a Prey

I leave the training ground not long after. The warriors' eyes follow me as I walk back to the pack kitchens. I keep my chin high, though now that the adrenaline has left me, my insides are now trembling from sparring with Ryken. My body aches, my lungs burn, but my wolf doesn't care. She sprawls inside me, licking her paws in satisfaction from the display of strength we showed in the ring.

 By the time I push through the kitchen door, Mira is waiting. She's got flour smudged on her cheek, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. But with the ways her arms are folded and with the set of her jaw. She isn't just Mira the Omega right now. She's my executioner. 

She doesn't wait for me to reach her; she strides over and pulls me back out into the hall.

 “What in the goddess's name were you thinking?” she hisses. 

I blink at her, startled. “You saw?”

She throws her hands up. “Of course, I did! Those of us cleaning the top floor saw you this morning from the window.”

“I-”

“You fought Ryken in front of an audience.” Her voice is sharp with panic, not anger. “Do you have any idea what that means? They will talk. They will ask questions. Omegas don't fight like that, Selene.”

I flinch, her words striking harder than Ryken's fist. “I didn't plan it. I just—” My throat tightens. “I was tired of feeling like prey.”

Mira studies me, her gaze softening despite herself. “Prey doesn’t fight back,” she murmurs. “And you are no prey, not even close.”

 I drop my head in my hands, my hair falling like a curtain in an attempt to cover my regret.

Mira places a hand on my shoulder, and I look up at her. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” she says gently. “I just want you to be careful. I know you're hiding something.”

I look away from her.

She continues anyway, “And drawing attention isn't the best.”

My shoulders sag in defeat. “I know.” I force myself to meet her eyes. “I will be careful.”

She gives me a small smile. “It's okay as long as you know what you're doing.”

But that's the problem.

I don't. 

◾

Elsewhere in the pack house, two voices cut through the silence in the alpha quarters.

“You saw her today,” Beta Dorian says, his tone steady but his gaze as sharp as steel.

Caden leans back in his chair, one arm draped lazily along the edge of his office table. “I did.”

“She shouldn't fight like that. She moved like—”

“Like she's been trained, not only that. Too swift, too strong for a wolfless Omega,” he finishes, lip quirking in the faintest smirk. His eyes glint in the dim light of the office. “Tell me, Dorian, when was the last time you saw someone block Ryken twice in a row?”

Dorian doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.

Caden smirk deepens, but there's no humor in it. “No, she doesn't move like prey. Which means she isn't what she claims to be.”

“I don't understand why you still let her stay,” Dorian says. “She could be a danger to the pack.” 

“Yes, I know,” Caden’s voice is certain, but his gaze drifts to the window where the night presses thick against the glass. His wolf stirs as his mind goes back to the first time she wandered into his territory.

She had just seen his wolf before she fainted. His wolf had gone to her, lingered over her scent, and howled for her. The warriors had mistaken it for a call, and they came over.

He couldn’t let her go yet, not until he knew what made his wolf drawn to her and what secrets she hid.

Beta Dorian interrupts his thought. “What do you want to do with her?"

 His voice is soft, almost a growl. “I will watch her myself.”

◾

Restlessness gnaws at me as the night deepens. No matter how hard I scrub pots or sweep the floors, I can't shake the tension clinging to my skin. I leave the kitchen, needing a moment of fresh air.

As I step outside, the cool breeze caresses my face, and with it comes the sound of grunts and fists meeting skin. I follow the  sound  to the courtyard near the training ground.

Beta Dorian and one of the warriors are sparring under the moonlight. The sight freezes me in place. Their movements are fast, brutal, and clean. Every strike is calculated, and every dodge must have been practiced a thousand times. I am mesmerized by it all. Wolves at the peak of their strength, dancing the language of war.

My chest aches as I watch. I can almost feel the rhythm of it in my muscles. For a moment, I imagine myself joining them, not as an Omega but as an equal.

“Enjoying the show?"

The voice is low, smooth, and far too close. 

I spin, just as Alpha Caden steps out of the shadows.