Mated to the Alpha, Fated to a Rogue

"You make it sound like a charity case." Everyone turns awfully quiet and stares at me. Did I just say this out loud? I want to die inside just like most times when I sit with the popular werewolves in Silver Moon High School's high end cafeteria. All of them are heirs of beta or gamma blood with no other topics but hierarchy...in school, in our pack and in the shifter world. Frankly, it just doesn't move enough to be such a topic of interest. Most are born with their rank and with the power that comes with it and political struggles inside one bloodline are mostly decided by whom is nearest and dearest to the alpha and not who is most capable...although people here seem to think that those two options are one and the same. Who is born with a golden spoon and platinum opportunities obviously also deserves them, just like werewolves deserve to dominate the shifter world because they already have been doing that forever and are the moon goddesses' favourites. Obviously. Normally, I can hide my disgust at their elitist thoughts long enough to wolf down my lunch and leave with a sweet smile and a few kind words to Logan's most devoted followers, but today it was just a little too much for me. They were talking about the new members recently added to the pack. A group of rogue wolves, who saved a lot of our warriors from a big ambush of a rival pack on the outlines of our territory... and it wasn't the first time either. Our pack had allowed them to stay near to our border a few years ago and they have paid us back by warning us several times already. This time, they fought for us. From what I've heard, a few of them even died while our warriors all lived and they weren't a big group to begin with. I saw the rest of them at the initiation ceremony on Sunday from afar. They were a group of not more than twenty people, all different ages and ethnicities. Some of them seemed to be strong, others weak. But, to me, they looked more like what a pack is actually supposed to be than ours...although our origin goes down to the very first shifters and rogues can't even form a mindlink or choose an alpha. They were either rejected from their original packs or born without powers. But those rogues...they seemed like...family. Not some strangers living in the same community with the same will to dominate all the other packs. They were proud to be together, to stand side by side. To have earned their young ones a place back into the safety of a great pack. I wonder if they will grow apart living in the big omega-pack house. The power struggles at the bottom are the most vicious. Everybody just tries to get enough reputation to earn their own house and a decent living or even a promotion into the higher ranks, which aren't as common as our alpha wants us to believe. Yes, us...I'm also an omega, but I do not live like one. I have never earned my place, it was given to me. In that department, I'm quite similar to all the other heirs around me. But other than them, not being born with my blessings makes me appreciate them more. I'm not saying I'm better than the people around me, just...more aware. Aware that just one person saved me from living the life of a maid. They all seem to think that it was such a nice gesture to accept those lowly rogues into our lowest rank. Like they weren't heroes but, yes...charity cases. And now they stare at me, the biggest charity case among them all in their eyes, for saying something stupid. Most of them probably didn't even know I was able to have an opinion, stupid or not. "Well,", Chastity, the daughter of our pack's beta, starts, obviously unsure as to how to respond to my accusation. Although we are not friends and she probably hates my guts for the position I'm in and she would like to have, she's smart enough to not cross me openly. I'm too dear to the person sitting next to me: Logan, the future alpha who now protectively lays an arm across my shoulder. I can't see his face but he is probably giving her a warning glance. I start to laugh and she and the whole table join in although nothing about what I said was a joke or even remotely funny. The look that she gives me is almost thankful. Logan is very kind-natured, but his opinion matters more to the future of her family than even her strong wolf and birthright does. Luckily, the bell saves us all from more awkwardness. They all scurry away in different directions because our school education is very specific and individualized. All important packs try to form the most helpful members from a young age, by finding out how they can benefit the pack the most. Again, it is very helpful in that regard that strong blood forms strong abilities, but I do have to admit that our system of scouting talent within a rank works very well... which is why the Silver Moon pack is the second most important in the country. When I was younger, I would hurry to reach the biggest class, full of omegas without any special foreseeable abilities. We had typical classes like humans do as the pack offers us the ability to leave for non-shifter colleges when we are off-age. Humans do not know about us shifters and weak omegas have it the easiest to hide their wolves to live like them. A pack only needs a certain percentage of lower-class workers but still has to feed the rest of us, so it is a win-win situation if we leave by ourselves. Educated rogues are the only ones who can live a decent life outside of a pack and so I studied like crazy, not only for school, but human culture as well. Something I liked about humans was that they could choose their lives, even whom they loved. In our culture, the moon goddess chooses our fated partners, our mates, but they are normally within our rank and in the same pack or as near as possible. Mates create the strongest off-spring and strengthen our wolves, so it is very uncommon to reject them. But not unheard of. Thinking about that, I'm staring at Logan, who is the only one still sitting at the table. "Aren't you coming? We have Lycan Etiquette and I don't want to be late for the test" He sighs. "Can you sit down for a minute, please? I want to talk to you. It's not like the teacher will start without us." I do not like to make a whole class wait for us, just because we are the most important couple. But this specific one is so intimate, they would probably wait even for the lowest ranked student, who is the oldest son of the pack's gamma. Only the most important werewolves will even meet a Lycan... if ever. They are direct descendants of the moon goddess, stronger, smarter and almost immortal. Technically, they are werewolf royalty. Luckily, they are not interested in our mortal little pack quarrels as they all belong to one big one who could basically eat us all alive. If they ever do come, we treat them like kings so they won't do that and if we don't offend them, they won't. Which is why I think Lycan Etiquette is a damn important class although nobody is interested in my grades and even our established pack has seen the last Lycan over three decades ago. Still, I shake my head. "You can talk to me on the way to class." He sighs again but gets up to follow me. I'm probably the only one who would ever defy Logan and I know that this is why he was interested in me in the first place. My parents were low-ranked and weak, even among omegas. We could never hope to leave the omega-pack-house. They worked in the gamma pack-houses' kitchen until one day... it got burned down during a vicious attack. I was so young, I can barely remember them. As an orphan with probably a weak wolf, I was not interested in following in my parents' footsteps. The werewolf world was too brutal for me, the chances of living a good life even in such a great pack too low. I didn't care for my rank as I planned to leave disguised as a human anyway. And then, in one of the very few classes dependent on knowledge, not ability, I met him. My future husband, who was never fated to me... and who rejected his mate just to be with me.