My body felt like it had been run over by a truck. Every muscle screamed in protest as I dragged myself back to the omega lodge after fourteen hours of non-stop labor. My torn hands throbbed with each heartbeat, crusted blood cracking open with every movement. The combination of dehydration, exhaustion, and hunger made the world swim before my eyes.
The sun had set hours ago, casting long shadows across the compound. Most pack members had retreated to their comfortable homes for the evening. Not me. I'd been forced to scrub the training arena floor after my garden work – on my hands and knees, with a toothbrush.
My stomach growled painfully. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten a proper meal. Maybe three days ago? The omegas were fed last, often with whatever scraps remained. As the only human omega, I usually got nothing at all.
The omega lodge appeared ahead – a dilapidated cabin at the far edge of pack territory. Once it had been a storage shed. Now it housed the pack's lowest members, those who had fallen from grace or been born without status. And me, the human aberration.
The smell of food wafted through the evening air. My mouth watered instantly. Tonight was the weekly omega meal – the one time we were guaranteed food, however meager. I quickened my pace despite my aching body.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up."
Delia blocked the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. Her lips curled into a satisfied smirk as she took in my disheveled appearance.
"I finished my work assignment," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. "May I please come in?"
"Dinner's already been served," she replied, examining her nails. "Nothing left, I'm afraid. Should've been on time."
My heart sank. "But Beta Marcus only just released me—"
"Not my problem," she cut me off. "Rules are rules. You miss dinner, you don't eat."
I glanced past her shoulder. Through the doorway, I could see dirty dishes piled in the sink. The kitchen was a disaster – food splattered across every surface, garbage overflowing, pots crusted with burned remnants.
Delia followed my gaze and smiled wider. "Oh, and since you missed dinner duty too, you get to clean all that up. Alpha's orders." She stepped aside. "Better get to it. Kitchen needs to be spotless by morning."
My empty stomach twisted painfully. Fourteen hours of brutal labor, and now this? I'd collapse before I finished.
"Can I at least have some water?" I asked, hating the pleading note in my voice.
"If you can find a clean cup," she snickered, turning away. "Good luck with that."
The other omegas watched from their bunks as I trudged into the kitchen. No one met my eyes. No one offered help. I was alone, as always.
The sink was piled high with dishes caked in dried food. The counters were strewn with crumbs and spills. The floor was sticky beneath my feet. I wanted to cry. Instead, I filled the sink with hot water and plunged my raw, wounded hands into the soapy liquid.
Pain shot up my arms like electricity. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, refusing to give Delia the satisfaction of hearing me cry out. Tears blurred my vision as I scrubbed at the first plate, leaving faint pink swirls in the water.
"Have you heard?" A whispered conversation drifted from the bunks. "The Lycan King is coming tomorrow."
My hands stilled. The Lycan King? Here?
"I heard he's looking for a new mate," another voice replied.
"After what happened to his last one? Goddess help whoever catches his eye."
I kept my head down, ears straining to catch every word. The Lycan King was feared throughout all packs. Rumors about him circulated like ghost stories – how he'd united the territories through blood and conquest, how his last mate had died mysteriously, how his wolf could manifest physically beside him.
"They say he can smell fear," someone whispered. "And that he hates humans more than anything."
My heart stuttered. Alpha Maxen had always been careful to hide my existence whenever representatives from the Lycan Court visited. Now I had no protection. No status. Nothing to shield me from a king who reportedly despised my kind.
I scrubbed harder at the dishes, ignoring the stinging in my hands. Maybe if I finished quickly, I could find somewhere to hide tomorrow. Somewhere far from prying royal eyes.
Hours passed. The lodge grew quiet as the other omegas fell asleep. My stomach had gone from painful cramping to a hollow emptiness. My vision blurred as I wiped down counters and swept floors. Every few minutes, I had to pause and steady myself against the sink.
Just as I was finishing, the back door creaked open. I tensed, expecting more torment from Delia or another pack member.
"Hazel?" A soft voice called.
I turned to find Martha, one of the kitchen staff, standing in the doorway. She glanced nervously over her shoulder before slipping inside. In her hands was a napkin-wrapped bundle.
"I saved you something," she whispered, placing it on the counter. "It's not much, but..."
I unwrapped the napkin with trembling fingers. Inside was half a sandwich and a bruised apple. My throat tightened with gratitude.
"Thank you," I whispered, fighting tears. "Why are you helping me?"
Martha's kind eyes clouded. "My sister married into another pack. They treat their human allies with respect." She glanced around nervously. "What Alpha Maxen is doing... what Julian allows... it's wrong."
Before I could respond, she squeezed my arm gently and slipped back out the door. I devoured the food in seconds, barely tasting it, my body desperate for sustenance.
As I finished the final tasks in the kitchen, my mind returned to the Lycan King's impending visit. Fear crawled up my spine like icy fingers. I needed to make myself invisible tomorrow – more invisible than I already was.
I collapsed onto my thin mattress long after midnight, every muscle screaming in protest. The other omegas' steady breathing filled the dark room. Despite my exhaustion, sleep eluded me.
Memories surfaced of the last time royal visitors had come to the Blue Mountain Pack. I'd been twelve, newly adopted by Alpha Maxen after my parents' death. He'd locked me in my room, ordering me not to make a sound.
"Lycans despise humans," he'd warned, his voice urgent. "If they discover you here, there will be consequences for us all."
I'd obeyed, huddling under my bed for hours, terrified of making even the slightest noise. But curiosity had eventually gotten the better of me. I'd crept to my window, peering through the curtains at the formal reception in the courtyard below.
That's when I'd seen him – a tall figure clad in black, with intricate tattoos snaking up his neck. Even from a distance, power had radiated from him like heat from a fire. As if sensing my gaze, he'd looked up suddenly, his eyes meeting mine through the window.
His eyes had glowed – an impossible, unnatural light that had pinned me in place. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. It was like being caught in the gaze of something ancient and predatory.
Alpha Maxen had found me moments later, frozen in terror by the window. He'd pulled me away roughly, face pale with fear.
"If he saw you, we're all dead," he'd hissed.
The memory made me shiver despite the stuffy heat of the omega lodge. That had been years ago. Surely the Lycan King wouldn't remember a glimpse of a human child?
But as exhaustion finally pulled me toward unconsciousness, I couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was coming. That the eyes that had found me once would find me again.
And this time, there would be nowhere to hide.