Her Secret Legacy

CHAPTER.ONE

NOA

The worn wooden floor creaks beneath my knees as I scrub the surface with a soapy brush. I dig my nails into the bristles of the brush, scrubbing at a stubborn crust of dirt. The smell of bleach claws at my nostrils, sour and sharp, invading my breath as I press the brush deeper into the grooves between the planks. Grains of rice from last night’s dinner stick stubbornly to the floorboard. I make a swipe for one with my fingernail. I scrape the surface and it finally lets go. My forehead is slick with sweat and strands of my hair plaster to my brow like limp seaweed. My skirt is damp at the knees, scrunched and puckered from kneeling so long on the hard floor.

It’s just ten in the morning and I’m on my fourth chore already. Beads of sweat gather on my forehead, mixing with the tears I refuse to let fall. When a particularly large drop rolls down my cheek, I quickly wipe it away with the back of my trembling hand, leaving a streak of grime across my face.

The cramping in my waists forces me to pause for a moment, my breath coming in short gasps. I press my palm against the small of my back, trying to ease the knot of pain at my lower back.

“Quit slacking. That floor isn’t going to clean itself!” my mother’s voice pierces through the air, making me jump. I force myself to resume scrubbing. My muscles protest, but I’m used to ignoring them.

“Just a little more,” I whisper to myself, trying to distract myself from the throbbing pain in my waist.

Today is my eighteenth birthday but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels more like a funeral, just like my every other birthday. I’ve never known the joy of unwrapping presents or blowing candles on a cake. I remember all the birthdays that have come and gone without so much as sweet words or a simple gesture of affection from my parents. Instead of celebrations, I’ve always been drowned in endless chores. It’s almost as if my parents resent me for being born, for daring to exist in their world. Every previous birthday has been marked with sadness and grief. Today is no different.

As an only child, one would think that I’ve been showered with lots of love and affection all my life. But that’s far from being true. I’ve always been an outsider, a burden to be tolerated rather than a cherished member of the family.

I pause again, to stretch my aching back. I wince as the movement sends fresh waves of pain through my muscles.

“I told you to quit slacking! Get back to work before I really give you something to complain about,” mother’s voice booms from the kitchen, sharp as glass.

Flinching, I hurry to continue. I can’t afford to annoy her any further. It’s bad enough that I’m likely going to spend the day toiling on chores. The last thing I need is to incur her wrath.

She storms into view, pale arms crossed under her chest.

Her eyes take me over, head to toe.

“You think I don’t notice when you dawdle?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice small.

“Get this done now. I want this floor clean and dry by lunchtime, not next week. Unless you want to eat after the cockroaches.”

The mention of lunch makes my empty stomach clench painfully.

She turns to leave as I say,

“I’ve not even had breakfast mum.”

Her footsteps stops abruptly.

“That’s not my concern,” she shoots back.

“If you’d been born a beta, you’d be out, haunting , bringing something worth having home. Then you’d eat as many food as you want. But no, I get an omega, a useless one at that.”

My hands clench around the hard brush. I squeeze until my knuckles pale and the bristles of the brush pierce into my skin, hurting me.

She stalks over to me, looming, her shoes squeaking on the floor I’ve already scrubbed twice. I wonder if she does this on purpose, just to see the smears her shoes leave and make me scrub the floor all over again.

“And another thing,” she snarls, “don’t dare call me ‘mum’. I’ve told you enough times. I’m not your mother. It’s ‘ma’am to you. Got it?”

I bite my lip, forcing down the bitterness in my heart.

“Yes ma’am.” The words taste like soap in my mouth.

“You’re eighteen, now an adult. Act like it! Eighteen and still as useless as the day you were born.”

Her footsteps retreat as she walks away.

I keep my eyes fixed on the floor, watching my reflection waver in the puddle of water. Her words aren’t new. I’ve heard variations of this speech countless times, but no matter how often I hear them, they always hurt.

I almost laugh, a broken sad one. She knows it’s my birthday today. She remembers. That’s why today is a little worse. That’s why she’s inventing new chores, stacking them like rocks on my chest.

Part of me had hoped that they forgot. That would have been excusable. Preferable. But they didn’t. Just like every year, like a tradition, they’ve ensured that I feel miserable. But part of me had dared hope that this year would be different. Eighteen was supposed to be different. Every werewolf child grows knowing about the sacred tradition of the eighteenth birthday. It’s the formal initiation into the pack. A ceremony is usually held to welcome them fully into the pack. It’s a recognition of one’s transition from a pup to an adult member of the community. I’ve watched in shadows as other pups celebrated theirs. I’ve seen the pride in their parents' eyes, the acceptance of the pack.

I had hoped that I’d have those things too. Despite everything, despite the years of neglect and cruelty, some small part of me had believed that everyone would respect the tradition. That even my parents won’t deny me this.

But why did I allow myself such foolishness? The signs have always been there. No one in the pack likes me, that much has been clear since I was old enough to understand the sideways glances and whispered conversations that stop when I enter a room. I’m an outcast, the omega that even other omegas look down on.

If my own parents wouldn’t celebrate me , wouldn’t formally initiate me into the pack as custom, then who would? The pack elders who have never so much as acknowledged my existence? The other pack members who cross the street to avoid walking close to me?

Stefan’s face flickers through my mind and for a moment, my scrubbing slows. Stefan is my destined mate, supposedly. The moon goddess had blessed us with a mate bond on his eighteenth birthday, two months ago. That mythical connection should have meant everything to both of us. It did, to me though. But instead of bringing us together, it seems to have driven him further away.

Like others, he has always avoided me. And even now, we rarely speak. Our conversations are limited to awkward nods when we pass each other in the park grounds. He’s never around, and when he is, he avoids me. He deliberately avoids any situation where we might be alone together. Can I blame him? I’m exactly what mother says I am. I’m just an omega, worthless and a burden. I’m sure he wants nothing to do with me.

The mate bond should have been my salvation, my ticket to a better life and a chance at happiness. Instead, it feels like another joke played by fate.

Maybe this is for the best. What kind of life would I have offered him anyway? I have nothing . No status, no wealth, no talents and definitely not even beauty.

I work to finish the final section of the flooring. The last corner finally yields to my scrubbing. I sit back on my heels, surveying my work with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. The floor gleams in the morning light.

“Finished,” I announce, exhausted.

Mother emerges from the kitchen, her critical gaze sweeping across the floor like a torchlight, looking for flaws. She walks around the room, examining the corners where dirt is most likely to hide. I hold my breath, waiting for her criticism.

But after what feels like an eternity, she nods.

“Clean up the supplies and put them away,” she orders. “Then set the table. My husband is close to the house.”

My husband. Never ‘your father.’

They almost never address themselves as my parents. There was a time this bothered me. Not anymore. I’m used to it.

As I gather up the bucket and brush, I hear the front door open. My father’s deep voice rumbles through the house and I steel myself for his inevitable criticism.

“Where are you, girl?” he calls out, his tone sharp and impatient.

“I..I’m in the dining room, sir,” I reply, cursing the tremor in my voice.

Footsteps thunder down the hall, and a moment later, he appears in the doorway, his brow furrowed in a scowl.

“What’s taking you so long? Why haven’t you set the table yet?”

“I’ve been working all day, I just finished up. I’ll go set the table now,” I whisper, eyes low, not daring to meet his.

He takes a menacing step towards me.

“Excuses… every time.”

He lets out a harsh laugh, shaking his head in disgust.

“You know, your mother and I have been wondering what we’re going to do with you. Maybe it’s time we start considering other options.”

My blood runs cold at his words and I look up with fear.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice shaking.

My father’s gaze bores into me, his eyes cold and calculating.

“Let’s just say that an Omega who can’t even keep a household running isn’t exactly a valuable asset to the pack. Perhaps it’s time we start looking into….alternative arrangements.”

The meaning behind his words become clear, and I feel my knees go weak. Being treated like trash is one thing, but being cast out of the pack entirely? The very thought makes my stomach twist with dread.

“P…please Sir, I’ll do better, I promise,” I plead, at the verge of tears. “I’ll work harder…I’ll…”

“Save it,” he snaps, holding up a hand.

“Your mother and I have put up with your incompetence for far too long. It’s time you start pulling your weight around here, or else…you know what happens, don’t you?”

With that, he turns and storms out.

I realize that I’m shaking. My heart is pounding loudly in my ears. My parents are considering casting me out of the pack.The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and I feel all my locked up emotions come crashing down. After eighteen years of neglect and criticism, they are finally giving up on me.

Sinking to the floor, I let the brush and bucket clatter to the ground as sobs wreck my body. I thought at some point they’d learn to love me, to accept me. But that dream is gone now. How can they do this?

“It’s not fair,” I cry, burying my face in my hands. “Why do they hate me so much?”

The sound of footsteps makes me stiffen and I quickly wipe my tears away.

Mother sweeps in, her expression pinched with irritation.

“Go set the table or do I have to tie your hands and make you do it?”

My throat tightens, and I have to bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. Somehow, I manage to nod, my hands trembling as I pack up the supplies and stand. I keep them away in the storage room. Just as I head back to the dining room to set the table, Adrian’s scent slips through the open front door. My traitorous heart flutters and I freeze.

He doesn’t look at me at first, only talks to my father in gruff, distant tones. Father laughs at something he says. I pretend not to watch. I pretend to look busy, using a towel to clean the dinner table. I try to ignore how my heart kicks at my ribs like a trapped fox.

When my father turns his back to him, he glances my way. Just once. Our eyes meet and my breath hitches.

His gaze is unreadable, warm and cold at the same time.

Then my father turns to face him and his eyes leave mine. They exchange a few words, then he’s gone. Just like that.

I want to follow him. I want to tell him that it’s my birthday today. I want to chase him and ask him why he doesn’t care? But I do none of those. My feet are glued to the floor, too heavy to move.

Mother calls from the stairway, breaking my trance.

“Don’t set the table. We’re going out!” She says, her tone sharp and impatient.

I look up, confused.

Going out?

Where could they be going in such a hurry?

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of her heavy footsteps descending the stairs.

As she comes into view, I realize she’s dressed up already.

“You’re going out?” I ask timidly.

She rolls her eyes and scoffs.

“Are you deaf? Of course we are. Now make sure you do your chores.”

“Oh, before I forget, you’re to clean the attic from top to bottom,” she says, her eyes glinting with malicious glee. “And I want it done by the time my husband and I return.”

I stare at her, dumbfounded. The attic hasn’t been used in years and I’m sure it’s so dirty and dusty, probably filled with cobwebs. Cleaning it would take hours, if not the entire day. And she expects me to finish it before they return?

“But…but mother…ma’am, I haven’t even had the chance to rest,” I protest weakly, my voice trembling. “Please…can I do it tomorrow?”

Her eyes narrow, and I know instantly that I’ve made a grave mistake.

“Tomorrow ?” She hisses, her fingers curling into fists. “You think you deserve a day off? “

I shrink back, my heart pounding with fear.

“N..no mother, I didn’t mean…”

“Silence!” She snaps, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. “You’ll do as you're told. If you decide to clean the attic tomorrow, that’s when you’ll eat. So, you’re more than welcome to have it your way.”

Tears spring to my eyes as I nod.

Father’s voice booms from the front door.

“Come on Alice! We are already running late!”

My mother lets out an exasperated sigh and quickly turns to leave.

“Hold your horses Bob, I’m coming,” she yells back.

She pauses for a moment and turns to face me again.

“Don’t you dare touch my food. You know what happens if you do.”

With that, she spins around and storms out the door, slamming it shut behind her. I flinch at the loud noise, my eyes already burning with tears.

A single tear slips down my cheek, quickly followed by another. Soon, I’m weeping again, the sobs wracking up my body.

Why me? Why do I have to be treated this way. I’ve always strived to be the perfect daughter, to make bey their ever word, without any complaints. And yet, it’s never enough.

Time seems to slow in a crawl as I cry my heart out. I’m not sure how long I’ve been crying when I hear the sound of a door creaking open, followed by the soft patter of footsteps.

Startled, I quickly wipe at my tears, my heart pounding in my chest.

Did my parents forget something? The thought of facing their wrath again is enough to make my stomach twist with dread.

But as I look up, the person I see is not my parents. It’s Evelyn, the Zeta's daughter. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I register the look of disgust that flits across her face before she quickly masks it with a forced smile. What is she doing here?

I’ve seen her at the pack grounds, but we are never friends. Like others, she ignores me and the only time she talks to me is when she has something awful to say to me.

“What are you here?” I ask, my voice hoarse from crying.

“I’m not here to laugh at you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She rolls her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m here to let you know that the pack is throwing a party for your coming of age.”

I blink, trying to process her words.

A party? For me? Impossible.

“I don’t believe you,” I say, my voice unwavering.

“You’ve never been nice to me. So why would you of all people come tell me this?”

She scoffs, crossing her arms, lips curling in amusement.

“Please. Do you really think I care enough about you to make something up?. I don’t have to like you to pass on a message. It’s my job as a sigma to ensure that this information reaches you as your soon-to-be tutor in the future,” she retorts, her tone dripping with disdain.

I stare at her, my mind racing. This has to be a trap. I’ve always been an outcast, the girl who didn’t quite fit in. Why would they throw a party for me? And besides, Evelyn thrives on chaos and drama, and I’ve always been her perfect target.

Before you can voice my doubts, she continues.

“Look, it’s happening right now. You can come or not. That’s none of my concern. But believe it or not, it’s real. You’re eighteen today. It’s a big deal. And whether you believe it or not, the pack are celebrating.

I study her, searching for any hint that proves she’s lying. But all I see is the mask she always wears.

Without another word, she turns and leaves and I hear the doors close shut.

If the pack is really throwing a party for me, why didn’t my parents say a word about it? Surely, they would have told me…. Unless they didn’t want me to know. That’s totally possible. After all, they would do anything to spare themselves the shame of presenting their “disgrace” of a daughter to the pack council as was custom. To them, I’m only good when I’m out of sight and out of mind. So if there is a party, they wouldn’t say a word to me, to keep the embarrassment locked away.

Despite my reservations, a small part of me is excited. This whole party thing feels like a twisted trick, but some desperate, lonely part of my heart clings to the fantasy. This is the only time I get to stand in the light instead of hiding in the dark.

I quickly take a bathe. I wash my face, scrubbing hard enough to sear away the puffy red look. When I’m done, I force a smile into the mirror. It appears weary, the kind a rabbit is offered before it’s snatched by a hawk. I pick out the only decent dress I have. It’s not really much… just a simple, worn cotton thing with a floral print. That would have to do. I have no idea what to do with my hair, so I just tie it up in a bun.

By the time I slip out the front door, the sun is already setting. The pack’s hall looms at the end of the path, thrumming with music and laughter. Paper lanterns hang from every railing, glowing like fireflies. I hover on the steps, stomach fluttering with dread and anticipation at the same time. My feet feel as heavy as a stone. Every instinct screams at me to turn and run, to not let anyone see me.

But I’ve come this far. I owe it to the little girl inside me who once believed in happy endings.

The moment I step into the hall, I realize that something is wrong. There’s a dias, decorated with white flowers and ribbons. I read the words on it: MATE CHOOSING CEREMONY. CONGRATULATIONS ADRIAN & EVELYN.

My heart stops. My eyes lands on Adrian and my heart lurches, the way it always does at the sight that of him. And beside him, dazzling in a beautiful silver dress is Evelyn.

I make my way over to them, my pulse quickening. Evelyn leans in closer to Adrian, her hand clinging possesively around his arm. The sight makes my stomach chun and my step falters.

Her eyes meet mine and she smirks.

“Look who decided to show up,” she says, her tone mocking.

Everyone turns and stares at me. I feel their gaze weigh down on me as their whispers starts up like a low hum. They don’t even try to hide their disdain. They looked at me with delightful hatred, like predators scenting blood.

I try to ignore them. “What’s going on?” I ask, desperation creeping into my voice.

Her smile widens, and in that moment, I knew. The realization hits me like a punch to the guts. There was never a party for me. It was a set up. A show so that everyone can see how foolish I am. And I fell for it.

The Head Alpha’s voice cuts through the thick air.

“We are gathered today because a member of our family wishes to have a new mate. Of course, to do that he has to openly reject his previous mate before us all and before he can be mated with our Zeta’s daughter, Evelyn Thomas. Adrian Smith, do you openly reject your previous mate, Noa, and accept Evelyn Thomas as you new mate?”

I can’t believe my ears. He’s rejecting me? In the presence of the whole pack?

The crowd’s voice roars in agreement as my eyes gets teary. No one even cares that this is happening in my presence. No one cares about how I feel about this. No one cares. No one. Adrian, my Adrian, turns and takes Evelyn’s hand. His voice is low, trembling with nerves, or guilt, or both, but he says the words anyway.

“I reject my previous mate before you all today and I choose Evelyn as my new mate.”

My throat closes. Humiliation flares through my body, hot as fire. Everyone cheers. For them.

I can’t remember my legs working, but I must be moving. But I stop. I see my parents. Smiling and cheering like the rest of the crowd. That stops when they see me. They don’t look scared to see me. They look annoyed. Like I’ve just ruined their little happy moment. I stagger, the world spinning.

My mother’s mouth twists into that familiar snarl.

“You come here now!” She screeches and the cheering comes to a halt, all attention back again to me.

They both rush to my side. My mother wastes no time. She takes my arm, grip bruising.

“Aren’t you supposed to be home? Don’t you know you’re a disgrace? Why come here? To embarrass us?”

My father’s nails dig into my other arm.

“Pathetic, after all we do for you.”

Their words hurt even more than this humiliation.

The crowd drinks it all in, faces lit with revulsion and triumph. Some of them whisper and laugh behind Danty hands. As my parents drag me away, Evelyn calls after me mockingly,

“Bye Noa! Hope you enjoyed your big day!”

Everyone laughs. And Adrian? Adrain doesn’t spare me a glance. The last thing I see is his head turned away.

The pack watches, hungry-eyed, as my parents haul me away. I’ve never felt so small, so utterly worthless in my life. I’m dragged on the floor by both my parents. My feet aches. So does my heart. And their grip on me is still tight as ever. Their grip only loosens at our front door. My father trashes the door open and pushes me inside the house.

“You good-for-nothing girl!” He yells, his face twisted in a mask of rage. Before I can react, he grabs me by the arm and hurls me across the room. I land with a thud on the hard floor, the impact knocking out my breath.

“I can’t believe you came to that event!” He spits, towering over me. “We’ve had enough of your nonsense!”

“Why?” I choke out, tears streaming down my face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes narrows, and his expression darkens, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Because you’re already a disappointment, a stain on this family’s name. We should have known better than to allow you to pursue such a match in the first place.”

I stare at him, horrified. I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces. How can they do this to me?

“But…but you’re my parents,” I say, voice shaking. “You’re supposed to protect me, why didn’t you?”

My mother snorts, looking me up and down like I’m a stain she could never scrub out.

“Protect you from what? To spare you a little heartbreak? You were never meant for him anyway. You’ve always been a burden. You would have only been a burden to him too. Do you hear me, girl? A burden. That’s what you’ll ever be. Nothing else. If we’d had a choice, we’d been rid of years ago. We should never have kept you. Maybe it’s not too late. We can send her out of the house this instant.”

I scramble up, knees wobbling and grab her leg.

“Please…don’t…don’t throw me out…. I don’t have anywhere else to go…please mother…” I say as I break down in uncontrollable tears.

She jerks her leg away.

“Don’t call me that! How many times do I have to tell you that you stupid girl! DON’T EVER CALL ME YOUR MOTHER!!!”

She shrieks the last words and my ears ring. I look at her face, searching for some humane part of her.

But there’s nothing.

She spits.

“I’m not your mother. I never would. You think I can have a worthless thing like you as a daughter,Never!!!”

“Please don’t say that. I am your daughter. Please….” I say, wailing and shaking.

“You aren’t! You aren’t even one of us. Don’t you understand? We took you in because we had to. If it were up to me, you would have been out on the streets already, where you belong.”

I feel the world tilt around me as her words sink in. My eyes blur, then I loose consciousness.