The night air was cool and sharp, carrying the faint scent of pine and damp earth. Abigail wrapped her thin shawl tighter around her shoulders as she left the pack house, her steps slow and heavy. The humiliation from the dining hall clung to her skin as much as the dried berry stain on her dress. She wanted nothing more than to hide, to let the darkness swallow her whole.
But the moon was high, casting silver light across the training grounds. Abigail had always found solace here when the world pressed too hard on her shoulders. The worn dirt of the sparring ring felt familiar, and the steady rhythm of her own footsteps gave her a sense of control she never felt around others.
She sat on the edge of the ring, hugging her knees. Her mind replayed the laughter, the sneers, the way Selene had looked at her as if she were less than dirt. Abigail pressed her forehead against her arms, biting back the sting in her eyes.
"Why do you let them break you?"
The voice startled her. Deep, commanding, edged with something she couldn't quite name. She gasped and spun around.
Steve stood a few feet away, his tall figure cutting a striking silhouette in the moonlight. His arms were crossed, his dark eyes fixed on her, sharp and intense.
"Alpha," Abigail whispered, lowering her gaze instantly. She scrambled to her feet, bowing her head. "I....I didn't mean to trespass. I'll leave."
"Stay."
The single word carried weight, a command that rooted her to the ground. Abigail froze, her breath quickening.
Steve stepped closer, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. "I saw what happened in the hall," he said, his voice even but heavy with authority. "Selene has no right to treat anyone in this pack that way."
Abigail's heart thudded painfully in her chest. She didn't know what shocked her more the fact that he'd noticed, or that he seemed to care. But she couldn't let herself believe it. Alphas didn't waste concern on omegas.
"It doesn't matter," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I'm used to it."
Steve's eyes narrowed. "That's the problem. You shouldn't be."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the trees. Abigail dared a glance upward and immediately regretted it. His gaze pinned her in place, fierce and unreadable.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I… I'm no one, Alpha. It doesn't matter what happens to me."
Something flickered in his eyes at her words anger, sharp and unyielding. He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.
"Every member of this pack matters," Steve said firmly. "Even you."
The words sent a shiver through her. Even you. As if she didn't believe it, as if he knew she doubted her own worth. Her chest tightened, her carefully built walls threatening to crumble.
But fear rushed in to patch the cracks. She shook her head quickly, backing a step away. "Please, Alpha. Don't… don't defend me. It will only make things worse."
His jaw clenched, and for a heartbeat, she thought he might argue. Instead, he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. The gesture softened him in a way she hadn't seen before, a glimpse of the man behind the Alpha.
"You're stronger than you think, Abigail," he said quietly.
Her name on his lips made her heart stumble. No one said it like that like it meant something.
She opened her mouth, searching for words, but none came. All she could do was stand there, trembling under his gaze, wishing the ground would swallow her whole before she embarrassed herself further.
Finally, Steve straightened, his expression returning to its usual unreadable mask. "Go back to the quarters. It's late."
Abigail nodded quickly, clutching her shawl tightly around her. She turned, her steps hurried, her heart racing as she moved away. But she could feel his eyes on her back until she disappeared into the shadows.
When she reached her small, cramped room, she sank onto the narrow bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She pressed her fingers to her lips, as if to hold in the whirlwind of emotions threatening to burst free.
Steve had spoken to her. Defended her. Seen her.
For the first time in a long while, a flicker of hope stirred within her chest. Dangerous, fragile hope. She knew better than to feed it, but she couldn't stop herself.
Because deep down, she wanted to believe his words.
She wanted to believe she mattered.