Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 7: Grace: Put to Work

My new life routine is simple.

Wake up every morning before the sun rises. Cook and feed everyone in the omega lodge—both male and female. Clean when everyone leaves for the day. Do the piles of laundry. Lunch, thankfully, isn't my problem—but it also means I don't get to eat. And then, of course, dinner, and more cleaning.

There are other staff who work at the omega lodge, but unlike me, they're proper omega wolves. Anything they don't feel like doing lands on my shoulders, and if I don't get them done, it's somehow my fault.

The first week of my new lifestyle ended with me being whipped five nights straight.

It isn't a normal punishment for shirking your duties. They just wanted an excuse to do it.

It wasn't a secret that many of the pack hated having a human brought in, when Alpha first adopted me. Like me, they lived in ignorance of my mother's identity. I'm sure they would have recognized her if they saw a picture, but I don't have anything like that. Only my memories.

It wasn't until the night of the Mate Hunt, when Alpha kicked me out of his home and family, that the pack learned the truth.

Mom was once mated to Alpha. Not as a proper Luna, of course. Mom, like me, was human. But she still bore his mating mark and was treated as his mate within the pack—until one day she disappeared, never to be seen again. From the gossip running rampant these days, I quickly learned that everyone thought she was dead.

My father—my real father—is also my biological father. They were killed in a house invasion gone wrong on my twelfth birthday. Three days later, I was taken in by a supposed family friend: Alpha.

His apparent care and warm home were more appealing than any foster home, even if I had to live among wolves.

If I'd known, I would have begged the foster system to keep me, but I doubt it would have made a difference. I had a home to go to, and someone willing to foot the bill. Why would they keep me in that situation?

I sigh, my hands sinking into the mountain of clean laundry before me. The scent of detergent tickles my nose as I sort through the pile, grimacing at the sheer number of boxers. Men's underwear. Great.

"At least they're clean," I mutter, folding each pair with quick, efficient movements.

My fingers brush against the soft cotton, and I can't help but think of Rafe. Did I ever fold his laundry? Of course not. That was a task reserved for the pack's domestic staff, not Alpha's daughter.

But I dreamed of being his wife. His mate. Dreamed of doing the laundry, of greeting him at the door with a home-cooked meal.

Now here I am, reduced to handling strangers' intimates.

I shake my head, banishing thoughts of my ex.

Focus on the task at hand, Grace. One pair at a time.

The basket marked 'Jason' slowly fills with neatly folded clothes. T-shirts, jeans, socks, and yes, those dreaded boxers. I smooth out a wrinkle in a shirt, wondering idly about the man who wears it. Is he kind? Cruel? Does he even know my name?

Probably not. To most of the pack, I'm just the human. The outsider. The one who doesn't belong.

it aside, ready for delivery. A small victory in a day

Get

head omega cuts through the air, echoing

me. The linoleum floor creaks under my weight, announcing my arrival before I even reach the

named Margo. She dresses like a secretary, with a black suit and hair pulled back into a classic bun, and always with a phone in hand. She's also burly enough that, if I was asked with a gun to my head, I would have assumed her to

daughter, she treated me

dirt

clipped. "You're needed at the main lodge.

she's the one who orders my punishments at the end of the night. I've watched as she ordered ten lashes, five nights in a row.

woman wouldn't care if I died of exhaustion, as long as my work was

pinched in

oversized hoodie and sweatpants—one of my three outfits these days—I can only say,

sighs, clearly frustrated. "You'll need to find something else to

any of these wolves care? They've been mocking me since my downfall, saying human trash doesn't even deserve the clothes

away. "I'll find you something. For now, help them at the

* * *

the main lodge is

lodge buried beneath a mountain of chores had one bright side:

wolves gather, increases that risk exponentially. I have no desire to run into him, either alone or with Ellie.

the omega lodge crackles with an unfamiliar energy. Our small werewolf city, usually a picture of serene efficiency, now buzzes with frantic activity. Wolves dart to and fro, their movements urgent

What in the world...?

ahead, and I quicken

"Grace!"

leaping into my throat. That voice. No. Please,

catch a flash of golden hair. Rafe. And beside him, dark hair gleaming in the sunlight, Ellie.

rushing for the front doors of the main lodge. I burst through the entrance, chest heaving in

human," he growls, lip

and tell me everything would be okay. Used

dwelling in memories of false

sorry. Margo sent

cuts me off. His eyes narrow, sweeping over my disheveled appearance. "But since you're here

I can protest, he turns and barks at a nearby wolf. "You there! I've got someone to

I gasp, but Beta's already shoving me toward the

snarls, and suddenly I'm

me toward the ravaged garden. "Come on,