Offered to the Triplet Alphas

Chapter 0001

"I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams." -W. B. Yeats

[Xanthea Plath]

I limped into the graveyard, clutching my broken arm with the other hand. Blood mixed in the rain trailed down from my shoulder to my elbow, down my wrists, making its way to my fingers that clutched the small bouquet of forget-me-not flowers.

Every flower of the bouquet was crushed and marred with blood-stains. The blue ribbon that once tied the flowers together was long lost.

The white gown, soaked by the downpour, hugged my body as if it sought to suffocate me. Inked scarlet, its hem absorbed the black tint of the ground as it glissaded over the sharp blades of overgrown grass. Today was my mother's twenty-third death anniversary and my twenty-third birthday.

I forced another step on the muddy grounds of the graveyard with my sprained leg. A thick curtain of rain obscured my already blurry vision. Streaks of rain trailed down my cracked glasses that hung loosely on my nose.

Panting and stifling my moans, I dragged myself closer and closer to my mother's grave.

Perhaps it was the tears in my eyes, or perhaps it was the rainwater tracing its way down my face. The only sensation that wasn't a struggle was feeling the coldness of the rain being absorbed against my feverish skin.

My ribs hurt with every breath.

'No matter how much of a struggle it is to breathe, you never stop breathing. Because you know the struggles are only temporary. What's permanent is life that death has not yet kissed.'

My mother's words echoed in my head. I gritted my teeth, taking a deep breath even when it hurt.

stung into my eyes as I gulped

my mother's

Freya Plath

on the white marble gravestone was the epitaph -

much effort as I sank to my bruised knees and offered the blood-stained flowers to

until my nose touched the ground and finally broke into tears. The flood

met my mother when she was alive,

alive to me. My heart filled with an unfathomable warmth and the utmost respect when I thought of her. I knew her closer than any daughter would have ever known their

like an equal. Through her words, I knew her heart and now it feels as though my heart had been replaced by hers, filled with her smiles and laughter that I never got to see or hear. Yet I felt

everything she could have become only if the alpha's eyes didn't fall

of cruel hierarchy, where the alpha commands over all the dreams of everyone in the pack Under his command, an omega wasn't allowed to dream of anything greater than their rank granted. We dwelled at the bottom of the food chain. Our value was confined and limited to serving

high and higher were her ambitions. So high it seemed impossible for an omega to achieve in this world of power, ranks, and politics. Her wings that I broke by coming to life. Because after that, my mother's eyes were too lifeless to dream anymore. So I replaced my eyes with hers, transplanted

dreams, her words, her ideals, I don't know who

can't miss a person you've never met, but I miss every second of my life as I imagine how my life would have been if she were still alive. Maybe my bones would have broken less, perhaps I would have lesser scars.

the palace hated me. Maybe things would have been different if I inherited my father's alpha genes. But I was grateful that I didn't. I'd rather have a strong mind and a warm heart than brute strength

the mere sight of me. She wanted to throw me out of the palace the moment I was born, but Alpha kept me in

a small house that my mother owned, which itself was an exceptional feat for an omega, since most couldn't afford it. They lived in either the servant quarters or

how badly those eighteen years of my life had broken me.

worked as a florist in