Chapter 158 Afraid of him
Being roused from sleep at an ungodly hour is perhaps the worst feeling in the world.
Worse than hunger, worse than pain, worse than even the cold sting of loneliness. Sleep, at least, offers the illusion of peace. A place where I’m not an omega. Not mistreated. Not invisible.
But that fragile peace shattered with in few minutes.
“Get up and start doing your chores!” a voice shouted into my ear.
A rough hand clamped around my wrist and yanked me out of the thin sheets I barely had to cover me. My body hit the cold stone floor with a thud, knocking the air from my lungs. I scrambled up on instinct, biting back a wince. I didn’t need to see the face. I knew the voice, Madam Hellen. Cruel. Loyal only to power. And a lapdog to our Alpha, a well known coldhearted bastard.
I didn't even protest. What would be the point?
Shuffling into the hallway barefoot, I pulled my thin uniform tighter around my body. The night air bit into my skin, but I was used to it. What I wasn't used to was the suffocating tension that clung to the pack house.
"Alpha is coming, let’s hurry up",
The whispers, the rush of movement, the scent of nervous sweat lingering in every corridor. Preparations for the Alpha King’s arrival had turned the pack into a hive of frenzy.
Blackfang Pack wasn’t just known for its military strength or territory; it was infamous for its cold-blooded Alpha, Alpha Marius. Ruthless. Efficient. Unyielding. No one dared question his rule. He didn’t believe in second chances or weakness, and he ruled with such precision it was as though his heart had been carved from stone. He didn’t have a luna and he didn’t care about it.
To make matters worse under his regime, omegas were nothing more than shadows. Unseen, unheard, unwanted. We cooked, we cleaned, we bowed, we bled and still it wasn’t enough.
But I was done bowing. I may be omega by blood, but that didn't mean I will allow everyone to mistreat me. Escaping from this pack was the only solution
\---
The dining hall was quiet when I arrived, save for the clatter of dishes and the occasional barked order from the higher-ranked staff. I gathered the last few trays and began wiping down the tables, my fingers red and raw from hours of scrubbing pots in the kitchens. Each swipe of the cloth was an outlet for the storm brewing in my chest. I welcomed the work. It kept my hands busy. My mind focused.
I could feel the stares, though. The snide looks. The way some pack members curled their lips when I passed. Omegas weren't allowed to lift their eyes, let alone carry pride in their stride—but I did. Even now, chin high, shoulders square.
A foolish habit, some would say. Dangerous, others would whisper. But it was the only thing keeping me from vanishing completely.
“Slower, and you’ll start growing moss,” a mocking voice said behind me.
Elder Garron.
My spine tensed. I turned slowly, eyes lowered just enough to be safe, but not enough to appear submissive. The old man sneered at me, his beard stained with wine, robes disheveled despite the early hour.
“I said,” he snapped, stepping closer, “move faster, omega. Or do you need someone to teach you what a whip feels like again?”
My hands clenched around the cloth.
It wasn’t the threat that got to me. It wasn’t even the way he spat the word "omega" like it was filth. It was the satisfaction in his voice. The joy he took in demeaning me. Like it was his right. Like it was fun.
I turned away, forcing myself to focus on the dishes.
He didn’t like that.
He slammed a silver goblet onto the table I’d just cleaned, wine spilling across the polished surface. “There. Clean that. And mind your attitude.”
I stared at the wine. The wasted effort. The cruel grin on his face.
Something in me snapped.
Before I could think, I spun around, grabbed the goblet, and hurled it at the floor. It shattered into a thousand pieces, crimson liquid staining the stone like blood.
A hush fell over the room.
My chest heaved as I met his shocked gaze.
“I’m not your dog,” I said, voice shaking not from fear, but fury. “And I’m not your plaything. You want something cleaned, do it yourself.”
Gasps erupted around me. One of the other omegas dropped a tray. Somewhere, a wolf growled low.
“You little—!” Garron lunged, hand raised to strike.
I ducked.
He lost his balance, stumbled forward—and I shoved him. Hard.
He fell. Crumpled like the dried-up husk he was.
The silence that followed wasn’t relief.
It was dread.
Footsteps echoed into the room. Slow. Heavy. Lethal.
A chill slithered down my spine.
The Alpha King had arrived.
\---
He didn’t need to speak to command attention. The room parted for him like a tide. Tall, broad-shouldered, cloaked in obsidian leather, Alpha Marius’s mere presence sucked the breath from the air. His eyes—icy blue and devoid of warmth—landed on me.
Then on the shattered goblet.
Then on Garron, who groaned as he pushed himself off the floor.
“What is this?” His voice was low, sharp, dangerous.
“She—she attacked me!” Garron wheezed, pointing at me. “The omega disrespected me—struck me! She’s a danger!”
Alpha Marius turned his gaze back to me. I didn’t flinch. My heart thundered against my ribs, but I met his gaze head-on.
“You?” he asked, tone unreadable.
I didn’t speak.
“Name,” he barked.
“Eira,” I said.
A beat.
Then, without warning, he crossed the distance between us and backhanded me so hard I dropped to my knees. The room didn’t make a sound.
I tasted blood.
“That’s the price of defiance,” he said calmly. “You want to behave like a wolf? Then you’ll be punished like one.”
He crouched in front of me, voice a cold whisper. “Consider this mercy. Next time, I won’t be so generous.”
I could barely breathe through the pain, but I didn’t cry.
He stood. “Take her to the dungeons. We’ll decide what to do with her after the gathering.”
Two guards moved toward me. I felt hands on my arms, dragging me upright.
And still, through the haze of pain and fear, I smiled.
Because for once, I hadn’t bowed.
And they were afraid of that.