CHAPTER 2

Eliana POV

Two years had passed since that awful birthday night when Eliana's world shattered, and every single day since had been a living nightmare.

The morning after she was forced to accept Silas's rejection in front of the entire pack, she was thrown out of the main house. Her comfortable room, soft dresses, and special status vanished overnight. She was moved to the cold, cramped Omega quarters at the edge of the pack territory and assigned the lowest jobs in the pack: scrubbing floors, washing clothes, and cleaning up after everyone else.

She was no longer Alpha Marcus's adopted daughter. She was just Eliana the Omega.

"Hey! Orphan! Are you deaf?"

A heavy wooden bucket slammed onto the stone floor right next to Eliana's feet, splashing soapy water all over her worn leather boots.

Eliana wiped a streak of sweat from her forehead and looked up. Standing over her was Brenda, one of the senior cooks, her hands resting on her hips with a sneer.

"I asked for those vegetables chopped ten minutes ago," Brenda snapped, pointing a thick finger at the cutting board. "What are you doing sitting around like a princess? Do you think because late Alpha Marcus brought you home, you get to slack off?"

"I'm not slacking off, Brenda," Eliana said quietly, keeping her voice even as she picked up the kitchen knife. "I just finished scrubbing the main hall floor like you told me to."

"Well, work faster!" another Omega named Thomas called out from across the room, tossing a pile of filthy aprons into her lap. "Add these to your laundry list. And make sure they're washed before sunset, or I'll tell the Beta you were lazy again."

Eliana swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "I'll get it done."

It was like this every day. The same lower-ranking pack members who used to smile at her and compliment her silver dress now took pleasure in pushing her around. They wanted to prove that she was beneath them now.

Eliana kept her head down and chopped the vegetables quickly. She had learned over the last two years that speaking back only made the chores and the cruelty worse.

Suddenly, the kitchen doors swung open, and the room went completely quiet.

"Attention!" a guard called out. "Lady Lyra is in the courtyard!"

Every Omega in the kitchen immediately put down their work, scrambled out the side doors, and lined up near the stone steps. Eliana stood at the end of the line, holding her breath.

Through the grand iron gates came Silas and Lyra.

Silas looked broader and more commanding than he had two years ago. He wore a dark jacket with the Alpha crest embroidered in silver. Walking closely beside him, her arm wrapped tightly around his, was Lyra. She was draped in a fine fur coat, her gold jewelry catching the morning sun.

Over the past two years, Silas and Lyra were inseparable. They paraded their relationship across the pack territory, making sure everyone knew Lyra was the undisputed future Luna.

Silas was whispering something into Lyra's ear, making her laugh loudly. But as they walked past the line of bowing Omegas, Lyra stopped dead in her tracks right in front of Eliana.

Silas paused too, his dark eyes briefly sweeping over Eliana's faded brown tunic and mud-stained hands before turning cold and unreadable.

"Well, well," Lyra said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Look at our little birthday girl."

Eliana kept her eyes fixed on the dirt floor, refusing to give Lyra the satisfaction of a reaction. "Lady Lyra. Alpha Silas."

"Look at me when I speak to you, orphan," Lyra commanded sharply.

Eliana slowly raised her head, meeting Lyra's arrogant smirk.

Lyra reached out with a manicured finger and tipped Eliana's chin up, inspecting her face like she was looking at a stray dog. "You know, Silas," Lyra cooed, turning her head to look at him, "I was thinking the grand hall floors looked a bit dusty this morning. I think Eliana should scrub them again tonight before our dinner party."

"She already scrubbed them this morning, Lyra," Silas said, his voice flat.

"And?" Lyra pouted, tightening her grip on Silas's arm. "I want them spotless for our guests. Unless... you still feel sorry for her?"

Eliana's chest tightened as she looked at Silas, waiting to see if a single drop of humanity remained in him.

Silas didn't even blink. He looked straight past Eliana, his voice cold as ice. "Do as Lady Lyra says, Eliana. Make sure the hall is ready by eight."

"Yes, Alpha," Eliana whispered, her fist clenching tight at her side.

Lyra smirked, thoroughly satisfied. She pulled out a delicate silk handkerchief, wiped the dust off her shoe, and carelessly dropped the dirty cloth right onto Eliana's chest.

"Clean my slippers while you're at it," Lyra said with a cruel laugh, turning back toward the main house. "Come on, my love. We have a party to plan."

Silas let Lyra pull him away, walking up the grand stairs without looking back once.

Eliana stood alone in the dirt, watching them disappear into the main house. Around her, the other Omegas began to giggle and whisper to each other, clearly enjoying her humiliation. Brenda smirked and tossed another dirty rag near Eliana's feet before turning back toward the kitchen.

Eliana slowly picked up the silk cloth, her chest aching with a familiar, heavy emptiness.

She looked past the grand stone walls of the mansion, staring toward the dark pine trees of the forest that surrounded the pack territory. A desperate wish rose deep in her heart—a wish to just run into those woods and never look back.

She wanted to escape. She wanted to leave this place so badly it made her throat tight.

But where could she go?

This pack was the only world she knew. She had no memory of where she came from before the age of eight. Her early childhood was nothing more than broken, scattered pieces in her mind—faint flashes of a voice she couldn't recognize and places she couldn't name. Alpha Marcus had been her entire world, and the Moonstone Pack was the only home she remembered living in. Beyond their borders, she had no family, no friends, and nowhere to run.

Eliana squeezed her eyes shut, taking a shaky breath to hold back her tears. She smoothed down her worn apron, turned away from the grand stairs, and headed back toward the cold, noisy kitchen.

She was trapped in the only home she had ever known, praying for a way out.