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.

eyes as I gulped down the trembling lump clogging

found my mother's

Freya Plath

below her name carved on the white marble gravestone was the epitaph -

I sank to my bruised

ground and finally broke into tears. The flood of emotions that had sustained me

mother when she was alive, but now she lived

through her diaries, she had come 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

her like a friend, like a secret keeper, like an equal. Through her words, I knew her heart and now it feels as though my heart had been replaced by

everything this woman was and everything she could have become only if

just like me. It was a world 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 the ones who

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

her words, her ideals, I

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. Perhaps then

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

anyone else, I was an eyesore for Luna Meesa Virgo. She couldn't tolerate the mere sight of me. She wanted to throw me out of the palace the moment I was born, but Alpha kept me in the palace until I turned eighteen and

into a small house that my mother owned, which itself was an exceptional feat for an

know how badly those eighteen years of my life had broken me. But after beginning an independent life in my

worked as a

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