The Weak Omega's Redemption

"Anna, can you even do one thing right?" 

Oliver was standing over me with his arms crossed and a look of disdain on his face, and I winced at the sound of his voice. The pack members around us laughed, their eyes shining with glee at my humiliation, and the Alpha's tone was just as cold as it was cruel.

I said, "I'm sorry, Alpha," while holding onto the pail of filthy water I had been told to use to clean the hallway floors. Whatever I did, it was never sufficient. The hard bristles of the brush scraped at my flesh until it felt raw, and my hands stung from the washing, yet nobody seemed to care. Not Oliver in particular.

"Did I ask for an apology?" His voice rose sufficiently to get the others' notice as he scoffed. "What good is an apology from someone like you, hmm?"

I bit my lip and remained silent, staring at the ground. I had no authority here, or anyplace else, so my instinct told me to keep my head down and not fight back. Oliver and other alphas were accustomed to being obeyed, especially by the lowest of the low, an omega like me.

He sneered, "Look at her," and took a step forward. His warm breath touched my cheek. "Even if she isn't appropriate to be in the same room as the rest of us, she still shows up. Standing here. Acting like she belongs."

I gulped back the rage that was simmering beneath the surface as a ripple of laughter swept through the crowd. Retaliating will just exacerbate the situation.

He spat out, "Out of my sight, Before you spoil the air with your smell."

I turned to go, forcing myself to nod while keeping my head down. I could still hear their laughing, Oliver's in particular, echoing in my ears as I left. They never failed to remind me of my position and my value—or lack thereof.

I felt heavier with each step I went toward the exit. Even though my throat burned and my chest hurt, I refused to let them witness my tears. Yes, I was an omega, but I was proud. It served as a reminder that I was more than what people saw, and I held on to it like a lifeline.

The crisp, cool night air outside the pack house was a pleasant diversion from the oppressive heat of Oliver's stare and the brutality of the pack. In an attempt to regain my composure, I inhaled deeply. But one question, which had troubled me since I was a child, kept coming back to me as I gazed up at the stars strewn across the night sky.

Why me?

Why was I forced to be like this? Why were the others so hostile toward me? Why was I created to live in silence, to be mocked, to be unnoticed by everyone?

I had no responses. But there was somebody who might.

I returned home, to the dilapidated hut on the outskirts of the pack's domain, with a renewed sense of resolution. Leo's cottage. Leo raised me and took me in when no one else would, even though he wasn't my biological father. He was all I had.

I wasn't surprised that the cabin was dark when I got there. Leo usually found a task or errand to keep him occupied, which led to his tendency to work late. Thankful for the familiar aroma of herbs and cedar, I pushed open the door and entered. This spot seemed safe, even after a day as terrible as today. 

"Leo?" I yelled quietly, but no one responded.

With a groan, I kicked off my old shoes and placed the bucket by the entrance. With the room filled with shadows from the flickering light, I went to light a little lamp on the table. I would wait for him. I had questions for him about everything. How he could see me be treated this way without ever providing an explanation—the taunts, the constant insults, the ridiculing.

Tracing the old patterns carved into the wood with my fingers, I fell onto the small wooden chair at the table. Leo had always been my lone benefactor and guardian. Nevertheless, he had never responded to my inquiries concerning my background or the reasons the pack thought I was unworthy.

As I sat there looking into the faint light, the silence pressed down on me. I couldn't tell if it was hours or just minutes. When the front door finally creaked open, I looked up to see Leo enter, his weary eyes warming at the sight of me.

"Anna," he murmured, his voice containing a hint of astonishment. "You’re still up."

"I needed to talk to you." I could hear the tremor in my voice, but I tried to speak steadily.

Leo moved to sit across from me, his face changing, his eyes suspicious. "What is it?"

"Why do they hate me so much?" Before I could stop myself, I blurted out the words. "Why do I have to be… this?" I pointed to my old clothes, the grime behind my fingernails, and the slight bruises from today's labor. "Why don’t I matter?"

Leo's expression darkened, and for a brief instant, it appeared as though he was considering what he was saying. "Anna, you know I would protect you from all of this if I could."

"Then tell me why." I hardly spoke above a whisper. "What makes me different from everyone else? Why do they act as though I'm not important?"

His shoulders slumped as he moaned. "Anna… there are things that are better left unsaid."

"Unsaid?" I became irritated and balled my fists. "I'm entitled to know! Leo, you've always concealed things from me. I need to know if you know anything at all about why I'm being treated this way. Please."

Leo's eyes softened for a minute, a glimmer of pain appearing on his face. He wiped his face and turned his head away. "I've already told you, Anna—you're more than they realize. But you shouldn't disclose that. Not quite yet."

"Why not?" I raised my voice and demanded. "What are you afraid of?"

His expression hardened as he turned back to face me. "Because having too much knowledge might be dangerous. Staying... hidden is safer and better for you."

It was a slap of a word. Unseen, unheard, and inconsequential, it was everything I had ever been to the pack and to everyone. The only person I had ever trusted, Leo, was telling me to keep it that way.

I swallowed back my emotions and shook my head. "Leo, I can't do this any longer. I can't continue to live this way without understanding why."

Before he could reply, though, I noticed an odd marking on the wall close to the door that was almost visible in the low light. It was a jagged, scratchy symbol that was unlike anything I had ever seen. I got up slowly and walked toward it, my heart racing.

"Leo," I said in a whisper while turning to face him. "What is this?"

He took in the marks and froze, his face going pale. He whispered, "That… shouldn’t be there," more to himself than to me.

My stomach grew constricted. "What do you mean?"

He got up and walked toward the marks as though in a trance, without responding. His fingers hovered over the odd lines as he reached out, his face tensed with a panic I had never seen before. "Who else has been in here?"

"No one," I said as a shiver ran down my back. "Only us."

He inhaled deeply while examining the mark with narrowed eyes. "Pay close attention to me, Anna. You have to keep this a secret. Not a soul. Do you get it?"

"But what does it mean?"

His focused stare turned to mine. "It implies that there is more to your narrative than you are aware of. The solutions you seek—" He swallowed hard and paused. "They’re not safe to find."