MY TRIPLET ALPHA BULLIES WANT ME NOW.

CHAPTER 8

MIRABEL’S POV.

Remember how I said I didn’t envy Vivian’s life because of the pressure and responsibilities that come with it? I lied.

Because being an Omega—the Omega—is infinitely worse. It comes with its own set of unbearable responsibilities, like being the pack’s punching bag. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to prove yourself. You could get straight A’s, volunteer for every community project, and move mountains, but no one would care. They would still look past all that and see only one thing: the weakling. The loser. The Omega.

So, yeah, happy birthday to me.

I stood in front of the mirror, trying to clean up the mess Vivian had left behind. My hair was a tangled disaster, my face smeared with dried spit and tears, and my body ached from the bruises forming beneath my clothes. My knees throbbed where they had hit the floor, and my ribs screamed every time I took a breath. I scrubbed my face over and over, but no matter how hard I tried, I still felt filthy.

I could not wash away the feeling of being worthless. Words were like chains, and Vivian knew exactly how to wrap me up and toss me into the pit of despair. If she ever quit bullying, she could make millions as a motivational speaker for the clinically depressed.

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Maybe the Moon Goddess decided my life wasn’t tragic enough because here came Owen, strolling toward me with that obnoxious grin plastered on his stupidly symmetrical face.

“What’s up, Sunshine?” he said, leaning on my locker like he owned the school. “Care to brighten my day and join us for lunch?”

“Leave me alone,” I practically yelled, my voice sharper than I intended.

But, of course, Owen didn’t take the hint. He followed because, apparently, boundaries were just a suggestion.

“Oh my God, Mirabel, what happened to you? Your hair looks like a bird made a nest in it!” He laughed like he had just said the funniest thing in the world.

I didn’t even dignify it with a response. I pushed past him, shoving his shoulder as I walked by.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry!” he called after me, his tone annoyingly soft now. “I was just trying to be nice!”

That word. Nice. It stopped me dead in my tracks. My head whipped around so fast that I probably looked possessed.

“Nice? Please, enlighten me, Owen—when exactly have you ever been nice? Was it when you tripped me in the hallway? Or when you and your brothers laughed while everyone called me ‘pack loser’? Or maybe when you let your dumbass friends throw my books into the mud? Yeah, ‘nice’ is so on-brand for you,” I said sarcastically.

His grin was long gone now, replaced by something that looked almost like concern. But I knew better. Looks are deceiving, especially when it comes to him and his brothers.

“What happened?” he asked, taking a cautious step closer. “Why are you so mad?”

“Mad? Mad? Oh, Owen, sweetie, you haven’t seen mad. But let’s not pretend you care. You think we are even just because you gave me my favorite album? That it magically erases all the s**t you and your brothers have put me through for years? Newsflash: it doesn’t. You, Damian, and Noah are all the same—entitled assholes who think the world owes you something. So, do me a favor and f**k off.”

His mouth opened, probably to spout some half-assed excuse or apology, but I didn’t stick around to hear it. I turned on my heel and stormed out of the school.

The woods were my escape, the only place I could breathe without someone reminding me how low I stood on the pack’s food chain. As soon as I was far enough from prying eyes, I shifted into my wolf. My sleek blue fur shimmered in the fading light, a secret as beautiful as it was dangerous.

For a brief moment, I let go. I ran through the trees, my paws pounding against the snow-covered earth. The cold wind rushed past me, sharp and biting, but I didn’t care. For once, I didn’t want to think about my status, my disaster of a love life, or my secrets.

I just wanted to be free.

The pack, my so-called mates, the Moon Goddess herself—I hated all of them. They could keep their twisted idea of destiny, mates, and hierarchies. I didn’t need any of it. If spending the rest of my life alone was the price of peace, I’d gladly pay it. Anything was better than this hell.

But, as usual, I spoke too soon.

I yelped as a hidden trap dug deep into my flesh, blood staining the pristine snow. I clawed at it, growling in frustration and agony, but it wouldn’t budge.

I’d run too far, too close to the border. The snowstorm howled around me, and the icy wind cut through my fur. No one was coming to save me. My only options were to bleed out or freeze to death—neither sounded appealing.

Then I heard footsteps, and I panicked.

No one could see me like this, not with my blue fur. Exposing my wolf meant exposing my secret—a death sentence. So I shifted back to my human form, naked and trembling against the snow.

The steps grew louder and closer. When the figure emerged, my heart stopped.

DAMIAN.