The scent of roasted venison still lingered in the pack house even though the feast had ended hours ago. The long dining tables were littered with greasy plates, half-eaten bread, and bones stripped bare by hungry wolves. The laughter of families had faded into the night, leaving only silence and the faint scratching of rats sneaking toward the scraps.
In that silence, Abigail moved quietly, her bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor. Her stomach growled painfully, twisting into knots as she scanned the table. She had not eaten since dawn. The pack always ate first. Omegas like her only got what was left if anything at all.
Her fingers hovered over a plate with a sliver of meat clinging stubbornly to the bone. She snatched it quickly, before anyone could see, and bit into it with trembling desperation. The taste was cold and greasy, but to her, it was salvation.
"Look at the little rat," a mocking voice drawled.
Abigail froze, the bite still in her mouth. Slowly, she turned her head and saw three young wolves leaning against the doorway. Selene, with her perfect blonde hair and smug smile, led the pack. Her two shadows, Mira and Cassia, giggled behind her like obedient pups.
"Caught scavenging again," Selene sneered, stepping closer, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. "Do you enjoy licking our leftovers, Abigail? Is that what your pathetic wolf lives for?"
Heat crept up Abigail's neck, shame burning hotter than hunger. She swallowed quickly, choking down the dry meat, and lowered her gaze. "I wasn't..."
"You weren't what?" Mira interrupted with a smirk. "You weren't hungry? Please. You always look starved. No wonder no one wants you."
"Even rogues wouldn't take her," Cassia added, laughter spilling from her lips.
Abigail's hands trembled as she set the bone down. She wanted to defend herself, to say something anything but the words tangled in her throat. She knew better. Talking back only made things worse.
Selene circled her like a predator toying with prey. "You're an orphan. No parents. No family. No future. You'll scrub floors until the day you die, Abigail. That is all you'll ever be."
Her wolf whimpered inside her chest, but Abigail stayed silent. She clenched her fists, forcing herself not to cry. Crying in front of them would only feed their cruelty.
When Selene grew bored, she flicked a hand dismissively. "Come, girls. Let the little rat eat her scraps in peace."
Their laughter echoed through the hall as they left, leaving Abigail alone again. Only then did she allow herself to breathe. Her eyes stung, but she refused to let tears fall. Instead, she reached for another scrap of bread, chewing slowly to quiet her stomach.
Around her, the pack house creaked with life. Wolves with families were settling into bed. She imagined them curled beside warm fires, parents tucking children in, brothers and sisters sharing stories. The ache in her chest deepened until it was heavier than her hunger.
She had no one. No mother's hand to stroke her hair, no father's voice to tell her she mattered. Just cold floors, empty plates, and the constant reminder that she was unwanted.
Yet deep inside, beneath the hunger and humiliation, something stirred. A stubborn spark. Abigail might be weak, but she refused to let them break her spirit completely. She would endure. She would survive. And one day, she whispered silently to herself, she would find a place where she wasn't treated like scraps.
For now, though, she gathered what little bread remained, sat on the floor in the shadows, and ate in silence an omega devouring the crumbs of a world that despised her.
And as the night wore on, the sound of her lonely chewing was the only reminder that she existed at all.