The air outside the omega lodge crackles with an unfamiliar energy. Our small werewolf city, usually a picture of serene efficiency, now buzzes with frantic activity. Wolves dart to and fro, their movements urgent and purposeful. The central garden, once a lush oasis of tranquility, lies in ruins. Dirt flies as workers tear up flowerbeds and uproot shrubs with ruthless efficiency.
What in the world…?
The giant main lodge looms ahead, and I quicken my pace.
“Grace!”
I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat. That voice. No. Please, no.
But luck, as always, isn’t on my side. From the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of golden hair. Rafe. And beside him, dark hair gleaming in the sunlight, Ellie. Two picture-perfect mates, arm-in-arm.
I don’t wait to see more, rushing for the front doors of the main lodge. I burst through the entrance, chest heaving in relief, only to collide with a wall of muscle. Stumbling back, I look up into Beta’s scowling face.
“Watch where you’re going, human,”
he growls, lip curling in disgust.
He used to pat my head and tell me everything would be okay. Used to-
Ugh. No point in dwelling in memories of false care.
“I’m sorry. Margo sent me-“
“I don’t care what that omega wants,”
Beta cuts me off. His eyes narrow, sweeping over my disheveled appearance.
“But since you’re here now, make yourself useful.”
Before I can protest, he turns and barks at a nearby wolf.
“You there! I’ve got someone to help you move those bushes.”
“What?”
I gasp, but Beta’s already shoving me toward the door.
“Wait, I-“
“Get to work,”
he snarls, and suddenly I’m outside again, blinking in the harsh sunlight.
A burly wolf grabs my arm, dragging me toward the ravaged garden.
“Come on, we don’t have all day.”
I stumble after him. From a random errand to doing manual labor I’m in no way equipped to handle. Awesome.
Just another day in the life, I guess.
It’s clear no one cares what I’m supposed to be doing. To them, I’m just another pair of hands. Expendable. Replaceable.
The wolf releases me with a grunt, gesturing at a row of uprooted bushes.
“Start hauling these to the compost pile. And be quick about it.”
I stare at the bushes, my stomach sinking. They’re enormous, their root balls easily the size of my torso. There’s no way I can lift these on my own.
“Is there some sort of equipment for this, or-“
He snorts.
“Equipment? Just lift it up and take it over.”
Yeah, that’s about what I expected.
They know I’m human, they have to realize this task is just about impossible. But he storms off to do something else in the raucous atmosphere of the garden renovation.
Gritting my teeth, I bend down and wrap my arms around the nearest bush. Branches and leaves stab at my face as I struggle to lift it.
It doesn’t budge.
Panic rises in my throat. If I can’t do this, they’ll punish me. Or worse, throw me out entirely. And then where would I go? I’m an adult now. There’s no program in the human world to save me from homelessness and a lack of money.
I’m educated-if you count a werewolf high school diploma as educated.
But that’s about it.
I try again, straining with all my might. My muscles scream in protest, but slowly, inch by agonizing inch, the bush lifts off the ground.
“That’s it,”
a gruff voice says behind me. I guess he’s back.
“Now move it to the pile.”
Sweat drips into my eyes as I stagger forward, the bush’s weight threatening to crush me at any moment. Each step is a battle, my arms trembling with the effort of keeping the massive plant aloft.
After what feels like an eternity, I reach the compost pile. With a gasp of relief, I let the bush tumble from my grasp.
“Good,”
the man grunts.
“Now do it again.”
I turn back to the garden, my heart sinking at the sight of the dozens of bushes still waiting to be moved. This is going to be a long, painful day.
As I trudge back to grab another bush, movement near the lodge catches my eye. Rafe and Ellie stand on the steps, watching the activity in the garden. Watching me.
Ellie’s lips curl into a smirk as she leans in close to Rafe, whispering something in his ear. Whatever she says makes him laugh, his eyes never leaving my struggling form.
As it turns out, there’s some sort of massive event happening. The Lycan King is coming.
No one knows why, but there are a lot of whispers. He’s been without a new mate for a long time, and has no heir. He’s probably on the search for a mate, or so the rumors declare. Then again, the same rumors claim he killed the last one, so I’m not sure how reliable the gossip mill is.
Wolves aren’t exactly like humans, their positions aren’t handed down solely because of bloodline. A wolf must be an alpha to lead, but not all alpha fathers sire alpha children. Also, females can be an alpha wolf-in theory-but are never accepted as leaders in their own right.
Alphas and Betas, as the leaders of a pack, are always an alpha wolf and beta wolf in designation. There can be many alphas and beta designations within a pack, but only two wolves carry the title.
It’s enough to make a human’s head spin, but it all makes sense once you’re living within a pack, as I am.
With all that said-it is rare to ever produce offspring of higher designation than the parents, though it isn’t uncommon for them to be of lower strength. So, two betas can’t make an alpha. And two omegas can’t make a beta. At least, that’s the general rule.
So, in order to have a Lycan Prince-the Lycan King needs an heir.
Though, if one were to ask what happens when a Lycan King dies without one-well, I have no idea. I don’t pay much attention to the Lycan court. I’m struggling enough to live in a wolf pack as a human.
“That’s enough for today. Clear out!”
The overseeing wolf’s bark cuts through the humid evening air. My shoulders sag with relief, the weight of exhaustion settling deep in my bones. I drop the shovel, my blistered hands screaming in protest as I flex my fingers.
Sweat and dirt cake my skin, mingling with streaks of blood from the cuts littering my arms. Each step sends jolts of pain through my feet.
There are numerous blisters rubbing raw against the inside of my ill-fitting shoes. The thought of the long walk back to the omega lodge makes me want to curl up right here in the torn-up garden.
But if I do that, I’ll be free game to any of my tormenters passing by. While there’s no one who will protect me at the omega lodge, at least I have a room to hide in.
I force myself to move, one agonizing step after another. The pack bustles around me, their excited chatter about the Lycan King’s impending visit grating on my nerves. To them, it’s a momentous occasion. I’m sure the she-wolves who didn’t find their mates during the Mate Hunt are primping and prepping in hopes of becoming a Lycan Queen. None of them seem to care about the widespread rumor that he killed his last mate.
But to me, this chatter is just another reminder of how I don’t belong.
My stomach growls, a painful reminder that I’ve had nothing but a single glass of water while doing manual labor. The thirst is almost worse than the hunger, my throat dry and scratchy.
As I trudge along the darkening path, my mind wanders to the Lycan King’s arrival. Where will I hide? The omega lodge is out of the question-it’ll be crawling with visiting wolves. My old room in Alpha’s house is no longer an option.
A bitter laugh tears at my dry throat. Life in the wolf pack sucks.
I can’t stay here forever. It’s impossible. Living here as a human is too dangerous.
The omega lodge looms ahead, a dingy silhouette against the night sky. No warm lights welcome me, no comforting scents of home-cooked meals. Just the acrid stench of unwashed bodies and stale air.
Some omegas don’t keep themselves clean. Wolves are usually pretty finicky about their hygiene, but those at the bottom of the pack don’t always care about it.
I slip inside, praying I can make it to the showers without-
“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”
Margo’s sneering voice stops me in my tracks. She’s standing in the darkness, her eyes glinting in the dim light.
“You smell terrible. Are you covered in dirt? Don’t even think about tracking that filth through here.”
I bite back a retort. Arguing will only make things worse.
“I just need to shower and sleep.”
“There’s no time to sleep. The kitchens need scrubbing before the Lycan King arrives. Can’t have any human stink offending his royal nose, can we?”
My heart sinks.
“But I haven’t eaten-“
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.