Sophia's POV
The bathroom tile is cold against my skin when Ivy shoves me into the sink.
I don't fight back. I never do.
"You're pathetic," Ivy hisses, and her breath smells like the vanilla latte she was drinking out front. The one she didn't have to work for because everything about Ivy comes easy. "Do you know what it's like having to look at you every day? Weak. Disgusting. You're not even a real wolf."
The two girls beside her laugh. They're always beside her. They follow her like wolves follow an alpha, which is funny because we're literally wolves and Ivy acts like she owns the whole pack. She probably does.
My shoulder hits the edge of the sink. It doesn't hurt much. Nothing hurts when you're used to it.
"I'm sorry," I say. The words come out automatic now. Sorry for existing. Sorry for having a face they have to see. Sorry for breathing their air.
Ivy leans closer and her perfectly manicured hand grabs my chin. Her nails dig in just enough to remind me she could do more damage if she wanted to. "Stay away from pack events this weekend. Actually, stay away from everything. The whole pack would be better off if you just disappeared."
Then she lets me go.
I don't watch them leave. I know the routine. They'll fix their hair in the mirror. Check their makeup. Laugh about something mean on the way out. I'll stand here at the sink and pretend to be invisible until they're gone, then I'll pretend to be invisible for the rest of the day.
Invisibility is my superpower.
When I'm finally alone I look at myself in the mirror and hate what I see. Small. Fragile. My black hair is boring. My brown eyes are boring. My entire existence is boring. I'm twenty-four years old and I look like I'm about twelve.
That's what happens when you're an omega. You don't just act weak. You look weak. Your body knows you're nothing before your mind even catches up.
My parents used to tell me it would get better. That I'd grow into my strength. That I'd find my place in the pack. But I'm twenty-four now and the only place I've found is here at Silverbrook Diner, wearing an apron and pouring coffee for humans who don't know what I am.
My phone buzzes in my apron pocket. A text from my mom asking when I'll be home. She doesn't actually want to know. She just wants to make sure I'm not at the compound bringing shame to the family name.
I don't answer.
The bathroom door opens and Rosa, one of the other waitresses, pokes her head in. "Sophia, we need you out front. And hey, after your shift can you do a delivery? Some lady out on Ridgeline Road ordered food and she's willing to pay extra for fast delivery."
I look at my reflection one more time. Maybe Ivy is right. Maybe everyone is right. Maybe I really am nothing.
"Yeah," I say. "I'll do it."
Anything to get out of here. Anything to avoid going to the compound today.
The next few hours blur together the way they always do. I pour coffee. I take orders. I smile at people and pretend I'm fine. This is my life. This is all my life will ever be.
Other waitresses chat about their plans for the weekend. About dates and parties and things that matter to people who matter. I work quietly in the background, invisible like I'm supposed to be.
By three o'clock the lunch rush is over. By five o'clock Rosa reminds me about the delivery. She hands me the order for Ridgeline Road and gives me an address at the edge of town, right where the forest starts getting thick and wild.
"The lady said five extra on the bill if you get it there in twenty minutes," Rosa says. "You're the fastest driver on staff."
Fast. The one thing I'm actually decent at. Not that it matters.
I pack the food carefully in the insulated bag. The route to Ridgeline Road takes me past downtown Silverbrook, past the places where humans live without knowing anything about the supernatural world hiding under their nose. Past the part of town where my family pretends to have normal jobs and normal lives.
The sun is starting to set as I drive. Orange and pink streaking across the sky. The roads get quieter the further I go. Fewer cars. Fewer people. Just trees and the distant sound of the forest breathing.
I take the final turn onto Ridgeline Road. The cabin is set back from the street, surrounded by nothing but darkness and trees. No other cars. No people around for miles. Just me and the forest and whatever lives in it.
I pull up to the cabin and grab the food from the back seat. My shift will be over soon. Maybe I'll go to Maya's apartment instead of home. She won't ask questions. She'll just let me sit on her couch and exist without judgment.
That's what real friends do.
I walk toward the cabin with the delivery bag in my hands. The air is cool and smells like pine and earth. The forest is close and something inside my chest starts to tingle.
It's a strange feeling. Like something inside me is waking up. Like something that's been sleeping for a very long time is starting to open its eyes.
I stop walking and listen.
The tingle gets stronger.
Then I hear them.
Snarls. Howls. A coordinated sound that makes every hair on my body stand straight up.
Rogues.
Not pack wolves. Not anyone I know. But definitely wolves. And they're coming toward me.
My heart starts hammering in my chest. I should run. I should shift and fight. I should do something. But my body is frozen. This is what happens when you're weak. Your body knows before your brain does that you're about to face something terrible.
They emerge from the forest like shadows coming to life. Three of them. Huge and matted and wild. Their eyes are wrong. Not like normal wolf eyes. These are coordinated wrong. Like they're hunting me specifically.
Like someone sent them here on purpose.
I drop the food and run for my car but I'm not fast enough when I'm human. I'm never fast enough.
One of them tackles me before I make it three steps.
My entire world tilts sideways and I slam into the gravel hard. The air leaves my lungs. Gravel scrapes my palms open. I taste blood. My own or his, I don't know.
This is it. This is how I die.
And nobody will even notice I'm gone.