The dining hall of the Crescent Moon Pack was alive with chatter, laughter, and the clinking of cutlery. Long wooden tables stretched across the room, filled with warriors and their families. Omegas darted in and out, carrying trays piled with food, ensuring that no plate stayed empty for long.
Abigail balanced a heavy tray in her hands, her arms trembling under the weight. The rich aroma of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled her senses, but hunger gnawed at her stomach. Omegas weren't allowed to eat until everyone else had finished, and by then, the scraps were often all that remained.
She moved carefully between the tables, eyes lowered, heart racing with each step. One wrong move, one stumble, and she would become the evening's entertainment. And with Selene in the room, Abigail knew she was already a target.
Selene sat at the far end of the hall, surrounded by Mira and Cassia, her two closest friends. The three of them were radiant, their laughter ringing above the noise like cruel bells. Abigail tried to avoid their table, but fate or cruelty always seemed to drag her toward them.
"Abigail," Selene's voice cut through the hall like a blade.
Abigail froze, tightening her grip on the tray. Slowly, she walked over, bowing her head as she reached their table.
"Yes, Selene?" she asked softly.
Selene smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You're moving too slowly. We're hungry. Put the food down before you drop it like the useless thing you are."
Mira and Cassia giggled. Abigail's cheeks burned as she set the tray down, arranging the plates carefully. She was about to step back when Selene's hand darted out, grabbing a goblet of juice. With deliberate care, she tipped it forward.
Cold liquid splashed across Abigail's dress, soaking the thin fabric. Gasps and laughter rippled through the hall.
Abigail stumbled back, her breath catching in her throat. The sweet scent of berries clung to her skin, sticky and humiliating.
"Oh no," Selene said with mock innocence, pressing a hand to her lips. "I'm so clumsy. Look what I've done to the poor omega. You'd better clean that up, Abigail."
Her friends burst into laughter. Mira shoved a napkin at Abigail, tossing it to the floor. "Go on, get on your knees. Isn't that where you belong anyway?"
Abigail's hands shook as she bent down, picking up the napkin. She dabbed at the mess, ignoring the stares burning into her from every corner of the hall. Warriors whispered, children pointed, and the humiliation weighed on her chest like a stone.
As she worked, Selene leaned back in her chair, her smile sharp. "Honestly, I don't know why the Alpha allows her to serve here. She's a disgrace. Don't you think so, Mira?"
"Definitely," Mira replied, her tone dripping with contempt. "An omega like her should stay hidden in the kitchens. Imagine her thinking she belongs here, among us."
Cassia snorted. "Maybe she's hoping someone will notice her. Pathetic."
Their laughter rang in Abigail's ears. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, forcing herself to remain silent. Speaking back would only make things worse. Omegas who challenged higher-ranked wolves were punished harshly, sometimes even banished.
Still, as she knelt on the floor, scrubbing at the spilled juice with trembling hands, her heart ached. She could feel eyes on her not just from the crowd but from a presence stronger, heavier.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze. Across the hall, seated at the high table, Steve was watching.
His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on her. For a fleeting moment, Abigail thought she saw something flicker across his face anger? Frustration? Or maybe disappointment?
Her breath caught. Then he turned away, speaking to the Beta as if nothing had happened.
The crack in her heart widened. Of course he wouldn't care. Why would he? She was nothing but an omega, a stain in his pack.
By the time she finished cleaning, her hands were raw and her knees ached. Selene's laughter still echoed in her ears. Abigail rose slowly, clutching the damp napkin to her chest, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
She slipped away from the table, disappearing into the shadows of the hall. She told herself she didn't care, that it didn't matter what Selene or anyone else thought. But deep inside, a quiet voice whispered the truth.
It mattered.
It mattered because every humiliation carved a deeper wound inside her, one she wasn't sure would ever heal. And it mattered because every time she looked up, she couldn't stop herself from seeking Steve's eyes hoping, praying that maybe one day, he would truly see her.