C1 1 - The Pack's Unwanted Omega

Araceli Geraldi opened her eyes before the first light of dawn had touched the horizon.

The area surrounding her was still cloaked in darkness, the air icy on her skin and the silence hanging in the room without break.

She laid on the thin mattress for a bit, starring at the wooden ceiling above her. The early morning darkness still lay in the small chamber, the calm was almost fragile, only the faint groan of aged timber settling around her.

The wind whispered around the walls of the omega quarters, caressing the crevices between the buildings, bearing the chill of dawn with it. The rest of the gang was still asleep, curled up in the luxury of warm beds and fading dreams. But Araceli’s day had started, as it always did.

She sighed softly, pushed the faded blanket away and sat up. The thin cloth slid off her shoulders, and the chill settled against her skin right away. A shudder passed through her and she put her arms about herself for a time, attempting to fight off the remaining chill.

Winter was in the air. Nites had been getting increasingly colder over the past few weeks, one more bitter than the last and the ageing edifice did nothing to shelter from the mountain air that swept over the Silver Moon region. Drafts came easily through the broken framework, with the keen sting of the season, and making the little chamber seem much colder than it should be.

She wiped her arms quickly and stood, her bare boots cracking the floors as she traversed the small room. It had nothing except a tiny bed, a wooden chest and a cracked mirror hanging crooked on the wall. There were no portraits, no decorations or treasured objects to soften the area or make it feel lived in. Nothing in the room indicated ownership or attachment. She had nothing.

Araceli pulled on her work clothes and gathered her dark hair into a simple braid before glancing at her reflection. The girl staring back at her looked older than eighteen, or at least older than someone who was still only days away from reaching that milestone.

Tomorrow would be her birthday. Tomorrow, she would officially become an adult wolf. The thought lingered as she studied her reflection, impossible to ignore. Tomorrow, she might finally meet her mate.

A small spark of hope flickered inside her chest. It was foolish, even dangerous. Hope had a way of leading to disappointment, and she knew better than to trust it too easily. Yet she couldn't stop herself from imagining it, couldn't keep her thoughts from drifting toward the unknown male fate had chosen for her. What would he be like? Would he be kind? Would he smile when he looked at her? Would he see more than the pack's unwanted omega?

The fantasy lasted only a few seconds before reality settled back over her, quiet and unrelenting. There was work to do, and there was always work to do. Araceli left the room and stepped into the dim hallway, where silence lingered in the early hour. Behind the closed doors lining the corridor, several other omega girls remained asleep, undisturbed and unaware, and none of them would wake for at least another hour. Their rooms were still cloaked in the fading night, but Araceli had learned long ago that she could not afford to enjoy the same rest. If she was not the first one working, someone would find a reason to punish her. The excuse rarely mattered. In a place like this, one could always be found.

All those scoldings were enough to make me think twice. She slipped out of the building and silently into the chilly nite air. Darkness wrapped around her like a garment, comforting and familiar on her skin.

There was a serene beauty to the Silver Moon Pack at this hour. The village was under the last of the dying stars, its cobblestone streets winding between rows of wooden houses. Some chimneys were sending up thin spirals of smoke, vanishing in the nite sky. The far mountains towered over the land like silent sentinels, guarding the pack with infinite patience.

To most wolves Silver Moon was power, stability and pride. Araceli saw something else entirely. It was a cage for her, a beautiful cage, but a cage. The pack never truly was home, no matter how lovely it appeared beneath the starry sky.

Araceli crossed the village and made her way to the Alpha House. The greatest building in the territory loomed over everything, three floors of dark stone and polished lumber towering over the rest with an overwhelming presence. It was a symbol of power, of authority, of status, of everything she didn’t have.

The guards at the door scarcely glanced at her as she drew closer. One yawned loudly, the other with manifest frustration rolled his eyes. Neither of them tried to say hello to her. Neither of them seemed to think that she deserved so much as a nod of recognition.

Araceli was not taken aback. She came in by the servant's entrance at the back of the building, and stepped into the familiar turmoil of the kitchen, the smell of breakfast lingering in the air, warm and reassuring, considering that it was already a long day for everyone within. The kitchen staff had been working long since before the sun came up and they moved fluently through their chores while the morning meal was being assembled. Some women worked with knives at big wooden tables, slicing vegetables into neat piles with steady strokes. Others baked bread and cooked meat, laying out materials and tending pots of the simmering things, vapour drifting around the room. The clatter of pans, the scrape of blades on cutting boards, the low murmur of talk, all came together in a rhythm Araceli knew well.

She put an apron around her waist and began work without being asked. She crossed among the busy workstations, picking up water buckets, heavy, and carrying them toward the cooking stations, careful not to interfere with the staff rushing around her. Then a harsh voice cut through the room.

"You're late."

Araceli froze.

Head Cook Helena scowled at her from across the kitchen. She caught Araceli's keen look almost instantly. The elder woman usually looked angry while she was talking to her and the scorn in her face seemed never to fade no matter how hard Araceli tried.

"Not quite four o'clock," Helena continued. "The tables should be clean by now."

"Sorry." Araceli instinctively lowered her head, gripping the water bucket tighter. "I'll do them now."

"You should have done them before I asked you." Helena clicked her tongue in annoyance, the sound carrying clearly over the noise of the busy kitchen. "Move faster."

Not wanting to give the woman another reason to scold her, Araceli hurried away before Helena could continue.

Nearby a few workers exchanged amused looks. One of them smirked, and another shook her head, apparently amused by the interaction. Araceli paid them no mind. She had learned long ago that the best way to protect herself was not to defend herself, that when she did she frequently attracted even more attention and criticism than if she kept her mouth shut. She kept her head down as she left the kitchen and walked to the dining hall.

The dining hall was cavernous, the wide area strangely calm in the early-morning hours. The big windows were still in shade, the room cold in the absence of sunlight. Dozens of tables stood two by two, still mostly empty from the nite before, still marked with the faint ghosts of use in spite of the cleaning. Araceli picked up a cloth and quickly began work, moving from one table to the next, washing the surface with practiced care and straightening chairs and placing them neatly in place. Her movements were efficient, familiar, the consequence of years of doing the same things till they became second nature.

By the time the first servants came she had already done half the room. The floors were swept, the tables washed, the chairs placed in their places, yet no one seemed to see the labour already accomplished. No one acknowledged her, or even looked twice at her. They expected it. They took her efforts for granted like they took the morning for granted. Because it was her job. The omega. The attendant. The girl nobody gave a damn about.

Hours passed and the village awoke slowly. One by one the members of the pack began to arrive for breakfast, filling the hall with laughing and talk and the scrape of chairs on the floor. The room was alive with voices as individuals gathered with family and friends, swapping stories and starting their day. Araceli continued to work, weaving between the crowd as it grew, moving trays from table to table, pouring drinks before they were ordered, emptying empty plates almost as quickly as they were piled up. Through the thronging hall she was ever in motion, threading her way between guests and staff alike, unseen and efficient, ever working and ever unseen.

As she delivered another basket of bread to a table near the windows, a familiar voice stopped her.

"Careful, omega."

A young man drowsily thrust his leg toward her. Araceli hardly saw the movement before her foot seized on it, sending her sliding forward. The basket fell from her hands, and several loaves tumbled out onto the floor, scattering under the tables nearby. Instantly laughter broke out around her.

"Look at that."

"She can't even carry bread."

"Maybe she's too weak."

Heat rushed to Araceli's face as the young men laughed harder, clearly pleased with themselves. One of them bent down, picked up a loaf, and tossed it toward her feet.

"Pick it up."

Another grinned.

"That's what omegas do."

The humiliation stung, sharp and familiar, drawing more attention from those nearby as heads turned toward the commotion. Still, Araceli crouched down and began gathering the bread from the floor, brushing away what dust she could before placing the loaves back into the basket. Arguing would accomplish nothing. It never did.

As she collected the last piece, one of the boys leaned forward with a grin. "I heard tomorrow's your birthday."

More laughter followed immediately.

"Think you'll actually find a mate?"

His friend snorted. "Who would want her?"

"Maybe a rogue."

"Even rogues have standards."

Again the throng roared with laughter, their sound of amusement booming around her. Araceli forced herself to her feet and picked up the basket gingerly. She kept her face neutral. The comments stung, as they always did, but she refused to give them the emotion they intended. She didn't answer, she turned round and walked into the kitchen, the basket in her arms. Behind her the laughter continued, only dying down a little as she moved away. She was used to it now, or at least that was what she told herself.

Truth was another matter." The insults were never not painful. No matter the years that passed, no matter how many times she had to suffer them, each cruel comment added another unseen scar. It settled someplace deep inside her where no one else could see. She'd learned to hold her face still, to drop her head as if the words meant nothing, but it didn't make them hurt any less. By midday her muscles were heavy with tiredness. Her arms ached and her feet were sore from the hours of work, and when Araceli was finally given leave to the Alpha House, relief coursed through her while knowing her work was far from complete. Her next job was to transport supplies to numerous households across the hamlet. The basket dangling from her arm felt heavier with each step, the weight of it pulling at her shoulder as she made her way through the crowded streets.

As she passed through the marketplace, chatter wafted through the air from all sides, most revolving around the same topic: the Moon Blessing Ceremony. There was hardly a talk that wasn't about the event tomorrow. Young wolves were excited to find a partner, you could tell from their enthusiasm. Parents bustled to prepare, merchants laid out colourful clothes and ceremonial gifts, hoping to lure enthusiastic shoppers before the celebration began. Laughter, speculating and eagerness hummed in the marketplace. An atmosphere that appeared to extend over the whole territory. Everyone was looking forward to tomorrow, everyone but Araceli, or perhaps especially Araceli.

Because beneath her fear lived hope, a fragile hope that tomorrow could change everything, that maybe fate would finally choose her. She held on to that possibility more tightly than she cared to admit, allowing it to quiet some of the anxiety twisting inside her chest.

A group of girls passed nearby, their cheerful voices carrying easily through the air and drawing her attention.

"I can't wait."

"My cousin met her mate last year."

"What if he's handsome?"

"What if he's an Alpha?"

The girls burst into laughter, bright and infectious with joy. Then one of them saw Araceli. And the smile on her face was gone very immediately.

"Oh."

The others turned to look. The moment they saw her, their faces transformed and the casual excitement that filled them a moment ago turned into awkward quiet. Nobody answered. They moved on. They had not concluded their conversation when they walked away, leaving Araceli alone after a moment.

The anguish that she knew well returned, not because they didn't like her but because she knew why they kept their distance. Association had consequences, and no one wanted to be caught standing next to the omega of the pack. Anyone who was friends with her was merely laughed at. And everyone knew that. She watched them go, swallowed in the moving crowd. For a moment the acute, old loneliness clenched her heart, but she forced it away and kept going. But there was work yet to be done, and fretting about things she couldn’t control never did any good.

That nightfall, the sun slowly sank behind the mountains, the sky a riot of orange and gold, and below, the village lay in the dying light of dusk. Araceli sat alone on a hill above the settlement, next to her basket of finished deliveries. It was her favourite area, one of the few places where no one disturbed her and where the insistent demands of the day were far away. There were no commands to carry out, no insults to suffer, no responsibilities for a change to carry on her shoulders. There was nothing but solitude and the occasional chance to sit still.

She looked down at the village, a soft breeze playing with the loose wisps of hair. Silver Moon Pack prepared for another nite as its paths slowly stirred under the illumination of lanterns. Outside their homes, families congregated, their voices melting into the cool nite air. Children ran after one another through the streets, their laughter echoing up the hill as the day moved into the nite.

Araceli sat and watched in silence, a peculiar grief coming over her. She often thought what her life would have been if her parents lived. Would it be different? Would she still be solitary? She was forgetting them, and that scared her more than anything else. She could still, sort of, remember her mother’s laugh, and a little bit her father’s voice, but the details were harder to hang on to each year, slipping away like sand through her fingers no matter how fiercely she tried to hold on to them. She lowered her eyes, swallowed against the anguish in her chest and said, “I’m sorry.” Lost to the wind were the words.

Sometimes she feared forgetting them entirely, and the thought hurt more than she wanted to admit. If she forgot, who would remember them at all? Tears threatened to form, but she blinked them away before they could fall. Crying changed nothing. It never had. Above her, the first stars appeared one by one against the darkening sky, drawing her gaze upward as a single word echoed through her thoughts.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow she would turn eighteen. Tomorrow her wolf would awaken. Tomorrow she might meet the person destined for her, a mate. Someone who couldn't simply choose to ignore her. Someone connected to her by fate itself.

It was an absurd thought, yet she clung to it nonetheless, possibly because it was the only dream she had left. Araceli smiled quietly as a shooting star flew across the lowering sky. Perhaps it was a sign. Maybe tomorrow might finally turn it around. Maybe her life was about to alter for good or for bad. She could not tell.

Far below, lanterns continued to glow throughout Silver Moon territory. The village seemed peaceful, safe, and unchanging beneath the night sky. Yet fate was already moving, quiet and patient as it prepared to shatter everything Araceli believed about herself, reveal truths buried for eighteen years, and awaken powers long forgotten.

None of that mattered tonight. Tonight, she was simply Araceli Geraldi, the pack's unwanted omega, a girl sitting beneath the stars with hope still clutched tightly in her heart as she waited for tomorrow. Tomorrow was her eighteenth birthday, the day she might finally meet her mate, the day everything would begin.