The sun had begun its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and crimson, when Abigail returned from the laundry huts. Her arms were raw from scrubbing, her dress damp from splashes of water, and her mind heavy with the memory of Lyra's words. She carried the last of the folded linens, determined to slip into the kitchens quietly and end her day unseen.
But luck never lingered long for omegas.
As she crossed the main hall's corridor, laughter floated toward her. A group of pack women approached, led by none other than Kira, the Gamma's mate. Tall, striking, and known for her sharp tongue, Kira was as merciless as Lyra, though her cruelty often carried an edge of mocking playfulness that made her even harder to endure.
Abigail lowered her gaze and tried to step aside. The corridor was wide enough to let them pass without confrontation.
Yet Kira stopped in her path.
"Well, well," Kira drawled, her lips curving in a smirk. "If it isn't the little laundry maid. Did you miss a spot, Abigail? You look positively drenched."
The women behind her laughed, their voices echoing cruelly in the narrow hallway. Aria clutched the linens tighter, bowing her head. "Excuse me, Lady Kira. I only need to deliver these."
"Oh, listen to her," Kira interrupted, placing a hand dramatically over her chest. "So polite. So obedient. Like a dog who knows her place."
The laughter grew louder.
Kira circled Abigail slowly, inspecting her as though she were nothing more than a pitiful stray. "Tell me, omega, do you ever tire of carrying rags? Or are you content knowing this is the only purpose the Moon Goddess gave you?"
Abigail bit the inside of her cheek. Words pressed against her tongue, desperate to escape, but fear held them prisoner.
Kira leaned closer, lowering her voice to a taunting whisper. "Perhaps you think the Alpha notices you. Is that it? You think those little glances mean something?"
Abigail's heart lurched. Her eyes flickered upward, wide with shock. How does she....
Kira's grin widened, triumphant. "Oh, don't look so startled. Everyone sees it. The way you freeze when he enters the room. The way your eyes follow him, even when you try to hide it. Do you think for one moment an Alpha like Steve would ever lower himself to… this?" She gestured to Abigail with a flick of her hand, as if swatting away an insect.
The sting of her words burned hotter than Lyra's cruelty earlier. This was not just mockery it was exposure, a tearing open of Abigail's secret, fragile hope.
The women behind Kira whispered and snickered. "She really thinks she could catch the Alpha's eye?" one of them muttered. Another laughed, "An omega Luna? The pack would never allow it."
Abigail's breath caught. Her cheeks flushed with humiliation. The linens in her arms trembled as her grip faltered.
Kira, sensing victory, delivered the final blow. "Even if by some twisted chance he looked at you, the pack would tear you apart. You don't belong beside him, Abigail. You belong here on your knees, scrubbing floors."
The words hit harder than any physical strike. Abigail staggered back a step, her chest tight, her throat aching. She wanted to scream that they were wrong, that she was more than a servant, but her voice refused to come.
Kira smirked one last time, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "Now, run along, little omega. Before someone mistakes you for thinking you matter."
The women erupted in laughter as they swept past her, their perfumes clinging to the air long after they were gone.
Abigail stood frozen, the linens trembling in her arms. The corridor felt colder, emptier, pressing in on her from every side. Shame flooded her, mingling with the painful spark of truth in Kira's words. What if she was right? What if the glances she thought she saw in Steve's eyes were nothing more than her own desperate imagination?
Slowly, she forced herself to move. Step by step, she carried the linens into the kitchens, her vision blurred. She set them down carefully, then slipped out the back door into the twilight.
The forest edge loomed just beyond the pack house. There, hidden by trees and shadows, Abigail finally allowed herself to crumble. She sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands. The tears she had held back all day spilled freely now, soaking her palms.
Alone, with only the rustling leaves as witness, her sobs broke the silence.
For the first time, doubt crept fully into her heart. Maybe Lyra and Kira were right. Maybe she would always be nothing an omega, unwanted, unseen, unworthy of love.
Yet even as despair threatened to swallow her whole, a tiny flicker of defiance stirred within. Weak, fragile, but present. A whisper against the darkness.
No… I can't believe them. Not completely.
She wiped her tears roughly, though her hands still shook. Somewhere deep inside, beneath the layers of pain and fear, a part of her refused to die.
And though she could not see it, in the shadows of the trees, unseen eyes watched her. Eyes that did not carry disdain, but something else entirely.
Something dangerous. Something