“I was never good enough for my mum and she never let me forget it” ― Sarah Clay

Halima

I couldn’t understand how she-wolves could wear so much perfume without choking. The amalgamation of perfumes, food, pheromones, and children was a combination so gross it surprised me that no one had upchucked their lunch. The house was lively as ever, with everyone dressed in their best clothes. Children ran through the hallways in their formal outfits as the adults chased them down, and the leaders of the pack barked out their orders for the other wolves to hurry.

The sun had finally set, and the full moon would rise within the half-hour. I was in the kitchen, washing the mountain load of plates and silverware that the pack would use for the Grand Feast.

“Madam, shall we place the desserts in the fridge?”

“Yes! Alice, be a dear and garnish the steak, please!” Lead Omega Cassandra’s sweet voice was not what I was used to. With the Omegas, her tone was sweet and helpful, comparable to a wise elder speaking to her children. But it takes a drastic 180-degree turn when speaking with me; with disgust and contempt peppered with hatred.

The food for the feast was placed on the large island some distance away from me, an assortment of the world’s finest cuisines. Just glancing at each dish feels as if you were traveling the globe right in the kitchen. As much as I dislike the Omegas, they have a Goddess-given talent with food I’d never tasted.

“Ooh, is that your famous lasagna I see?” My breath hitched in my throat as the familiar voice made my heart pound. I didn’t dare to look behind me to know who the voice belonged to. My mother. I forgot she was the chief organizer of the ceremony, in the absence of Luna Celeste. I heard a gentle slap and a “Hey!”

“You know the rules, Ash. No taste testing!” Cassandra replied with a chuckle. “Knowing you, one bite turns into a missing pan!”

“It’s your fault for making the food so irresistible.” My mother chuckled in amusement. “Maybe just one egg roll—”

push my mother out of the kitchen. An egg roll she successfully swiped was in her mouth. My mother was dressed in a

wished I could tell

she didn’t acknowledge my presence in the kitchen. My eyes stung with tears once again, but I blinked them back rapidly. No, no crying.

chorus of snickers and giggles from the other Omegas followed soon after.

my work. But whispers didn’t fall

one is in the mood

“Yes, miss.”

“Good.”

I’d give anything to rip her throat out.” Artemis snarled in my head. “She’s just an

is not a bad rank. At least she’s treated well by

“But not us.”

she hates us. Plus, she’s been ordered not to. Have you

you’re feeling the same way as I

just wish to be alone instead of being on

something

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