A Very Bad Day
1141 Words
Zahraa POV
Omegas were, by nature, the bottom of the pecking order – but they had their own hierarchy amongst themselves. In a pack this size, they had to. The omegas at the central pack house, for example, all out ranked those at any of the outlying houses. Each pack house had a head omega – like Danielle – and each of them had a rank.
Without going into an essay-like explanation of the hierarchy of omegas in an already complicated enough pack structure, understand that these three wolves were at the bottom of the bottom of a long pecking order.
And yet I was still below them.
And this was a challenge.
Pick it up.
If I refused, I could be punished by Danielle. Perhaps worse, it could start a fight.
If I complied, I would be admitting I was below them. I would be submitting.
Both were dangerous options for me.
I held Rayleigh’s stare, and after a few beats of tense silence, she repeated. “Pick it up.”
I squatted down and grasped the biscuit. Thoroughly soaked in soapy water, doubtlessly with this in mind, it broke apart, requiring me to pull my eyes from Rayleigh’s to make sure I got all the gross, lumpy pieces.
Once again, pain blossomed in the back of my head, this time, harder, firmer, forcing me down, my face a mere inch from the ground.
I looked up enough to get a grasp of what was happening – Rayleigh had stepped forward and thrust her shoe on the back of my head, pushing me down.
My strength could not compete with even the lowest of low wolves. The next thing I knew, my face was being rubbed in soggy biscuit, and the girls were shrieking with laughter behind the dish sink. I closed my eyes, as if that might help me escape the situation, and tears began to sting me.
Rayleigh wasn’t done. She grasped the back of my ponytail and yanked me up, pulling me to my feet. “Look at the mess you made. I said pick it up, not spread it all around.” She threw me, pushing me hard until I staggered and fell back onto the floor. “Clean it up, maggot.”
Another pain blossomed in my ribs – Patricia had kicked me. Not hard, but not hard for a wolf was full-strength kick for a human, and I groaned in pain.
“What’s going on here, ladies?” Danielle asked, surveying the situation with clinical coldness.
“Nothing, Dani,” Patricia and Elaine droned together.
Rayleigh couldn’t wipe the self-satisfied smirk from her face when she added, “Just helping Z off the floor.” She offered her hand, and something flashed in her eyes. I knew without asking it was a silent warning – if I said anything, I was dead. “Wasn’t I, Z?”
Patricia and Elaine went back to scrubbing and loading dishes, and I took Rayleigh’s hand, swallowing the whine of pain. “Yeah. Sorry, Dani. We’ll get right back to work.”
Dani watched us, as if staring into our very souls. “Well. Hop to it,” she said, without moving.
Rayleigh went back to her minions, and I turned to clean the biscuit off the floor.
“Not so fast,” Dani caught our eyes once more. “Rayleigh. Clean this floor. Zahraa, your face is a mess. Go wash up.”
“Yes, Dani,” I said, keeping my head down as I rushed from the room.
The moment I was free of them, the tears came. Large and fat, they started rolling before I could duck safely in the cover of the girl’s bathroom. My eyes met several other omegas that were rolling out the bedding carts, to clean the rooms of the alpha and other high-ranked cadre members.
It was too much.
I opened a Door to my room from the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind me, then collapsing in front of my front door to unleash the sobs that had been building. I’d never been treated like this – like I was less than, sure, but never abused. I’d never been drenched in toilet water, or had my face rubbed in a soggy biscuit.
My phone buzzed in my pocket again.
Be careful, he warned, too late. They think you attacked me at the party. Some people might be angry with you.
I laughed out loud – I couldn’t help it. They might be?
I left him on read as I went to my bathroom to clean up.
Wolves were all about pride – myself, not so much. There would be no challenging, no fighting to the death for the honor that I left behind on a biscuit in the kitchen floor.
I washed my face. I picked the pieces of bread out of my hair. I stripped my uniform off carefully and put it in my laundry basket.
I stood there in my room, in my underwear, contemplating leaving the pack altogether. I imagined myself in France, learning architecture.
I took a deep breath.
I had a mate.
I might not know him well, I might not feel the same as him – not exactly, at least – but I had always wanted that connection. That blessed connection from the moon goddess herself – and I had it, here, practically in my hands.
I had more here – it may not seem like it now, but I had protection here. If I did go to France, and something happened – if a human man touched me, and felt the searing burn of whatever magical force surrounded me – they would find me. The Alpha Council, that small group of alphas that ruled all werewolves, the Aggrande Court, which ruled over all witch councils, and the Voice for the Voiceless, a union of supernaturals that did not convene in groups. They would all send people to kill me.
And they’d succeed.
I drew in more air. I couldn’t skip work. I couldn’t show any more weakness. I couldn’t run – I owed it to myself, and to Jacob to stick it out.
I put a fresh uniform on, pulling some remaining biscuit from the hair on the back of my neck. I’d do just that – stick it out.
I know, I replied to Jacob’s text. I’ll be okay. But I think it’s for the best that we don’t see each other for a while. At least until this settles down.
I had to take another breath before hitting send, but when I did, I felt relieved.
Keeping my head held high, I turned around, opening a Door back to the Northern pack house’s bathroom.
I wouldn’t run.
I would endure.
If not for Jacob, for me.
- Writer
