Three And A Half Years Later
Dionne
"Looking for company tonight, sweetheart?"
A voice called out from the group of off-duty guards lounging near the equipment shed. Crude laughter followed, but I kept my eyes fixed on the path ahead and continued walking.
"Bet she misses having someone to warm her bed. Three years is a long time to go without."
More laughter, accompanied by vulgar gestures I pretended not to see.
"Ignore them. Keep moving," my wolf urged quietly, and I tightened my grip on the laundry basket balanced against my hip.
Sweat trickled down my spine despite the cool morning air. I had just spent two hours in the communal washing area, scrubbing linens by hand because the machines were reserved for higher-ranking pack members. My shoulders ached from the repetitive motion, and my hands were red and raw from the harsh soap.
But I was far from finished. After delivering these linens to the main house, I still had kitchen duty, then evening cleaning rotations. The work never ended, and the exhaustion had become so constant that I barely remembered what it felt like to be rested.
But it was okay, as long as my daughter had food to eat and clothes on her back, I didn't mind the exhaustion.
I pushed through the service entrance of the main house, keeping my head down. The less attention I drew, the better. The marble floors and crystal chandeliers of this section stood in sharp contrast to the cramped, moldy quarters where the lower-ranked omegas lived.
"Watch where you're going, you clumsy fool." a sharp voice hissed.
Matron Shaw stood at the base of the stairs, arms crossed over her chest. Her gray hair was pulled back so tightly it seemed to stretch the skin of her face, making her perpetual scowl even more severe.
"You are behind schedule. Those linens should have been returned an hour ago." Her voice carried through the entrance hall, ensuring that anyone nearby could hear my reprimand.
"I apologize, Matron . The stains needed extra attention, and—"
"I don't want your silly excuses. I want efficiency." She stepped closer, and I could smell the coffee on her breath. "After you finish with the linens, report to the kitchens immediately. Chef Margo is already complaining about being short-staffed."
"Yes, Matron."
She looked me up and down with obvious distaste before waving me away dismissively. I hurried up the stairs, my face burning with humiliation.
The second floor housed the administrative offices and guest quarters. I moved quickly through the hallway, counting doors until I reached the linen closet. As I began sorting the clean sheets onto their designated shelves, a door opened behind me.
I glanced back and felt my stomach drop.
Garrett.
He was the pack's Beta, a massive man with a shaved head and a scar that ran from his eyebrow to his jaw. More importantly, he had made it very clear over the past three years that he believed I owed him something for being allowed to remain in the pack after my disgrace.
"Well, well. Fancy meeting you here, Dionne." His voice was low and oily as he stepped into the hallway. "All alone, how convenient."
I kept my eyes on the linens, my hands moving faster as I tried to finish my task. "Excuse me, Garrett. I need to complete this work."
"Always so busy. Always rushing away." He moved closer, deliberately blocking my path to the stairs. "You know, I've been thinking about you and your… situation "
"I- I have work to do," I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear coiling in my gut.
"The Alpha's been talking about clearing out the undesirables," he continued, his eyes fixed on my face. "Anyone who doesn't contribute properly to pack strength. Your name came up several times in the council meeting."
Fear shot through me. "I work hard. I cause no trouble."
"That's not really the point though, is it?" He reached out suddenly, his hand clamping around my wrist before I could pull away. "The point is what you represent. A reminder of our security failures. An embarrassment."
I yanked my arm back, and he let go with a smile that made my stomach turn.
"You'd be smart to show some… appreciation to those of us who have influence," he said softly. "Before your protection runs out entirely."
"Matron Shaw is expecting me in the kitchens. If I'm late again—"
"Fine, fine. Run along." His expression darkened. "But you can't avoid me forever. Eventually, you'll need to show some appreciation for the generosity I've shown you and that little bastard of yours."
I wanted to defend my daughter. Wanted to tell him that she was not what he called her, that she was innocent and perfect and deserving of respect. But speaking back to an enforcer would only bring worse consequences. So I stayed silent and walked past him as quickly as I dared without actually running.
My hands were shaking as I descended the stairs. I had to pause in the stairwell to catch my breath and force back the tears that threatened to fall. Crying would accomplish nothing except to give people more reason to mock me.
After a moment, I continued to the main floor and made my way toward the kitchens. The morning was only half over, and I was already exhausted. But exhaustion was survivable. I had proven that over the past three years.
I was halfway across the entrance hall when a high-pitched scream pierced the air.
My blood turned to ice. I knew that scream. I had heard it more times than I cared to remember.
Nora.
The basket fell from my hands, linens spilling across the polished floor, but I didn't care. I ran toward the sound, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I found her in the side garden, the one where children of higher-ranking families were allowed to play. She was on the ground, her small body curled into a protective ball while four older children circled her like wolves around injured prey.
"Look at her cry! Just like her mother probably cried when her Alpha threw her away!"
"Bet she does not even know who her shorther is. Probably some random rogue who felt sorry for the pack whore!"
They were kicking dirt at her, throwing small stones. One boy, who could not have been more than ten, reached down and yanked her hair hard enough to make her scream again.
Something inside me snapped.
I ran forward without thinking, shoving past the children to reach my daughter. I dropped to my knees and pulled her against my chest, feeling her tears soak into my uniform. She was trembling, and when I pulled back to look at her, I saw blood trickling from her nose and a darkening bruise on her cheek.
"Please," I heard myself saying, though my voice sounded distant and strange. "Please stop. She is only three years old. She has done nothing to you."
"She exists," one of the girls said coldly. She was perhaps twelve, with the confident bearing of a Beta's daughter. "That is enough."
"Your daughter is trash, just like you," the boy who had pulled Nora's hair added. He stepped forward and grabbed Nora's arm, trying to yank her away from me. "Why don't you teach her to shift so she can at least pretend to be a real wolf? Oh wait, she is a runt like her slut mother. She will never shift."
She was just three years old, too young to even shift. But the other children laughed, and the sound was somehow worse than their words.
I felt something hot and dangerous rise in my chest. My vision narrowed. My wolf, who had been quiet and submissive for years, suddenly surged forward with a violence I had never felt before.
My fingers began to elongate, nails sharpening into claws. My muscles tensed, and I felt my canines extend. The edges of my vision went red.
I was going to hurt them. I was going to make them pay for touching my daughter.
"That's enough!"
The command cut through my rage like a blade. I gasped, and suddenly I was back in control, my wolf retreating with a whimper.
Callum stood at the edge of the garden, still in his patrol gear. His expression was hard as stone as he looked at the children.
"All of you, leave. Now."
"But we were just—" one of the children started.
"Now," Callum repeated, and something in his tone must have frightened them because they scattered immediately, running back toward the main house while throwing insults over their shoulders.
I was shaking. Not from fear, but from the aftershocks of how close I had come to losing control. If I had actually attacked those children, I would have been executed, regardless of the provocation.
"Thank you," I managed to say as Callum approached. "I don't know what I would have—"
"You would've gotten yourself killed," he interrupted quietly. He knelt beside us, his expression softening as he looked at Nora. "Hey there, little one. Are you hurt?"
Nora looked up at him with her wide, tear-filled eyes. After a moment, she nodded and reached for him. Callum picked her up carefully, cradling her against his chest while he examined her injuries.
"Nothing broken," he said after a moment. "But that nose needs cleaning, and she will have bruises."
I stood on unsteady legs, suddenly aware that we were drawing attention. Several pack members had paused to watch the scene, whispering to each other behind their hands.
"I need to get her home," I said quietly. "Clean her up."
"I'll walk with you." It wasn't a suggestion. Callum adjusted Nora in his arms and began walking toward the omega quarters, forcing me to follow.
Over the last three years, Callum and I had gotten closer. He helped me throughout my pregnancy and even when Nora arrived, he never abandoned us. Even though our different duties didn't allow much time for us to see, he always found a way to check up on us and help in any way that he could.
"Where were you going?" I asked once we were away from the main house. "I haven't seen you in weeks."
"Training has been intensive. Alpha Thorne is expanding the patrol units, so we've been running extended drills." He glanced down at me, and I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. "I've been trying to find you, actually. There's something I need to discuss with you."
"What is it?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again as we passed another patrol unit. "Not here. Later, when we have privacy."
We reached my quarters in the converted stable building where the lowest-ranking pack members lived. My "apartment" consisted of a single room with a mattress on the floor, a small table, two chairs, and a curtained-off area that served as a bathroom. The walls were thin, the roof leaked when it rained, and in winter the cold seeped through every crack. But it was ours, and I had made it as comfortable as I could.
Callum set Nora down gently on the mattress while I went to the bathroom area to wet a cloth. When I returned, he was sitting on the floor beside her, speaking quietly and making her giggle despite her tears.
"Tell your mama what I promised you," he said with a small smile.
"Cookies!" Nora announced, her face brightening. "Callum said he would bring me cookies tomorrow!"
"Did he?" I knelt beside them and began gently cleaning the blood from her face. She winced but didn't pull away. "That's very kind of him."
"I have to do something to make up for those horrible children," Callum said. His smile faded as he watched me work. "This cannot continue, Dionne."
"I know," I whispered. "But what choice do I have? If I leave, we become rogues. Rogues don't survive long, especially not a weak omega and a child."
"What if you were not alone?"
I paused, looking up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
He started to respond, but Nora chose that moment to yawn widely, her little body sagging with exhaustion. The ordeal had taken everything out of her.
"Let me put her down for a nap first," I said, gently laying her on the mattress and covering her with a thin blanket. Within minutes, she was asleep, her thumb in her mouth.
I turned back to Callum, but before I could ask him to explain, voices outside made us both freeze.
"—I'm telling you, I saw her! She was near the Alpha's wing this morning, probably stealing again—"
My heart stopped. I recognized that voice. It belonged to one of Matron Shaw's assistants.
"Dionne?" Callum stood quickly, his hand moving to the blade at his belt. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," I said honestly, fear making my voice shake. "I wasn't near the Alpha's wing. I was doing laundry all morning."
The voices outside grew louder, accompanied by the sound of multiple footsteps. Callum moved toward the door, positioning himself between me and whatever was coming.
The door burst open without warning. Three guards entered, along with Matron Shaw and another woman I didn't recognize. The stranger was older, with silver hair and the bearing of someone accustomed to authority.
"There she is," Matron Shaw said with satisfaction. "Arrest her."
"What?" I stumbled backward, my mind racing. "I've done nothing wrong!"
"You were seen leaving Alpha Thorne's private chambers this morning," the silver-haired woman said coldly. "Shortly after, the Alpha is found dead. The healers found traces of poison in his system."
The room spun. "No. No, I was never in the Alpha's chambers. I was in the laundry all morning, you can ask—"
One of the guards stepped forward, throwing something at me.
My bracelet.
The only thing I had from my family. The one I wore every single day.