The Omega's Fate

Norella Pov

Today's the big day—my eighteenth birthday and the ball. It's the day I've been waiting for, the day I finally break free from being treated like a maid, or worse, a slave. The dress on my lap might be simple, but it's beautiful, a blue that matches my eyes. Running my fingers over the fabric, I think about how long I've saved up for it. It's not fancy or expensive, but it's mine, and tonight, I won't be the 'worthless omega' everyone calls me.

Madame Maggie's been my lifeline, slipping me money when she can. Without her, I couldn't have even dreamed of buying this dress, let alone the heels to go with it. "You should be getting ready now, Norella," she says, peeking in from the doorway. She's been there for a bit, I guess. I was lost in my thoughts. "I will," I tell her, heading to the bathroom. "I'm heading out now," she says, leaving the room.

Madame Maggie's more than just the head maid here; she's been like a mom to me since I lost mine. She's the only one who doesn't see me as just a weak, wolfless omega. I mean, I'm not wolfless—I just haven't shifted yet, and my wolf hasn't spoken to me in two years. But back to Madame Maggie, she's always treated me differently, not like a slave, like the rest do.she has voluntarily taken on my chores earlier before she goes back home to her mate and pups so I could get ready for the ball. She even let me use the bathroom—a luxury after months without a proper wash. I'd been stuck in the pack's grimy cell, wearing nothing but a ragged piece of cloth that clung to my skin, I wasn't even allowed to wash it. But today, I had the chance to scrub away the grime and feel wolf again.

Stepping into the bathroom, I peeled off the filthy rag and let the warm water cascade over me. As it ran through my golden hair, now free from its usual bun, it seemed to carry away all my troubles with it. Tonight's ball wasn't just any celebration; it was the night when the goddess would pair us with our destined mates, and for the first time, I allowed myself to feel a spark of that hope too. I should be the most jubilant young werewolf, I carry a joy that runs deeper. My story began in tragedy at the tender age of four when rogue wolves shattered my world, leaving me to witness the horror of my parents' demise. Alpha Lowell, the leader of our pack, saved me from a similar fate, but the mystery of my parents' killers remains unsolved, the wound in my heart ever fresh.

I was brought into the royal pack house, expecting some semblance of protection due to my father's friendship with Alpha Lowell and his respected status within our Blue Moon Pack. Yet, what awaited me was a nightmare cloaked in superstition. Branded as bad luck, Alpha Lowell would recount the tale of my birth, how I nearly caused my mother's death, and question the oddity of rogues targeting only my family. It seemed to him a curse.

By night, I was confined to a cell, the threat of harm lurking in the shadows as I share the cell with criminals and sometimes almost get molested s****lly. By day, I was burdened with endless chores, I was only allowed to eat leftovers laced with wolfsbane. But in this darkness, Madame Maggie emerged as a beacon of hope, lately she has been secretly nourishing me with meals free of wolfsbane, risking her own safety for my well-being.

School was my only respite but now am done with it, yet even there, Myra, Alpha Lowell's daughter, ensured my misery. A troublemaker and bully, she took delight in tormenting me both in the classroom and within the pack house walls. And then there was Luna Desi, Alpha Lowell's mate, whose very gaze could petrify. She was a force not to be trifled with, ensuring that I remained in the shadow of the label 'worthless omega.' So the ball wasn't  just only about finding a mate to me; it's about breaking free from the chain of being the pack doormat. I slip into the dress, feeling it hug my curves just right. My hair falls in a golden wave down to my waist, and I dab on some makeup—nothing too fancy, just enough to hide the shadows of too many sleepless nights.

I take a peek in the mirror, half-expecting to see the same old Norella staring back. But nope, this girl's got a spark in her eyes and a smirk that says, 'Watch out, world.' The heels go on next. They're short, but hey, I'm already towering at 5'10". No need to be a skyscraper.  and I'm out the door. The pack hall is close by, and I need to be there before Alpha Lowell starts the event. That's when I bump into Myra.

"Trying to play dress-up?" she taunts. I hold back a retort biting my lip enough to make it bleed and try to move past, but she blocks me. "What, can't speak? So you think you can start stealing from your betters now?"

I'm about to respond when she interrupts. "Shut it," she hisses. "How'd you even get that dress?" acting like her dress isn't ten times fancier than mine. She's dressed to the nines, looking like an angel she's not. "I saved for it" I said but it was like she ignored my response as she steps closer, and I step back. But then she grabs me, and my heel catches on her dress. The sound of tearing fabric fills the air. "I'm toast," I think, as Myra's eyes flash with anger.

Before I could muster a word, Myra pounced like a storm unleashed, her fists raining down on me. Each blow was a thunderclap, shattering the silence of the night. And as if the assault wasn't enough, she shredded my dress, turning the symbol of my freedom into tattered rags. I stood there, robbed of speech, as she stepped back, her strength undeniable. But the blaze in my gaze spoke volumes of the fury within. "Why, Myra?" I managed to choke out. "Because you deserve it," she spat back, venom in her voice. For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of fear dance in her eyes, a reflection of the tempest she'd awakened in me. I was a hair's breadth away from unleashing the storm inside.