Marked By The Moon

Olive – POV I had the dream again. Smoke thick in the air. Screams. My mother’s voice calling my name—then silence. I jolted upright, heart hammering. My breath came in ragged bursts, cold sweat clinging to my skin. My room, if you could even call it that, was still dark, the air stale, the sheets twisted around my legs. It took me a moment to remember where I was: the servant’s quarters, bottom floor of the packhouse. A room that smelled like damp socks and bleach. My mattress lay on the floor, and the window had a large crack in it. A cold breeze seeped through. I sat up and hugged my knees to my chest, letting the silence settle in. I hated waking up here. I hated waking up, full stop. I was seventeen. An omega. An orphan. Unclaimed, unwanted, unnoticed. And tonight was the Lunar Mixer. Great. While everyone else primped and prepared to find their fated mates, I’d be scrubbing toilets and serving drinks—just like always. I hated these mixers. They happened about twice a month now. Wolves came from far away to attend, hoping to meet their mates. By midday, my hands were raw from cleaning. The kitchen buzzed with activity, but I wasn’t part of it. I was the help. Always the help. “Move it, rat,” one of the warriors sneered as he bumped into me on purpose, knocking a tray from my hands. Laughter followed. I didn’t look up. I never did. If I reacted, they’d push harder. If I ignored them, I might make it through the day without crying. I had no parents. No rank. No money. And no wolf—yet. I was pale, thin, bony—like a shadow lingering where I wasn’t welcome. My long black hair was pulled back into a messy braid, and my clothes were all too big, too old, too borrowed. “Please go put on your uniform, Olive,” Shelley, the Head Omega, said as she handed me a dress. I walked to my room and looked at the uniform in my hands. It was a plain black dress that didn’t quite fit and shoes that rubbed my heels raw. By the time the mixer began, the ballroom had transformed into something out of a dream. Golden lanterns floated overhead, casting soft light across the polished floors. Long tables were lined with silver platters and crystal glasses. Laughter rang like wind chimes through the open space. Everyone wore their best dresses that sparkled like moonlight, suits tailored to perfection. Alpha Zeke and Luna Kenzy were the perfect hosts; they were desperate to find their son, Alpha Jace, a mate. He was twenty years old, and all the girls in the pack—and neighbouring packs—swooned over him and his cousin, Beta Tobi. Both were tall and handsome. Alpha Jace had the bluest of eyes, almost grey, and jet-black hair. Beta Tobi had green eyes and ginger hair. Alpha Jace’s younger sister, Zoe, had black hair and blue eyes. She was known for hating omegas with a passion. I moved quietly between the guests, tray in hand, picking up empty glasses and offering fresh ones. No one looked at me. Not really. Some brushed past, like I wasn’t there. Others gave me looks of disdain, like I was something stuck to their shoe. But I watched. I watched how they moved—how confident, how beautiful. I watched as girls my age flirted, their eyes wide with hope, waiting for a spark. Waiting for that moment the Moon Goddess would light their path. And I wondered what it would feel like to be seen. To be seen by a powerful man like Alpha Jace. To be desired. To be chosen. I blushed just thinking about how stupid I sounded. Girls like me didn’t end up with mates like that. I passed a mirrored column and caught my reflection. Pale skin, hollow cheeks, tired eyes. I looked like I’d never known joy. And maybe I hadn’t. Not really. As I turned to set down my tray, I stumbled—tripping over nothing—and caught myself on the edge of a table just before the glasses toppled. “Careful, omega,” someone snapped. “You break that and it’s coming out of your non-existent pay.” I bowed my head. “Sorry.” Heat burned my cheeks. I clenched my jaw and kept moving. I left the ballroom quietly, slipping out through a side door into the night. Lanterns floated above the garden like stars caught in midair. The cool breeze kissed my skin. I collapsed near the forest’s edge, breath heavy. No one had spoken to me. No one had noticed. ________________________________________ The dining hall smelled like burnt toast and crushed dignity. I moved quietly down the line, my tray empty, my head down. No one made room for me at the front—not that I expected them to. Omegas knew better. “Watch it, mutt,” someone muttered as I brushed past. A shoulder bumped mine hard. My tray clattered to the floor, eggs and fruit splattering across the tile like a crime scene. Laughter erupted, sharp and cruel, like it always did. I crouched down quickly, ignoring the flush that burned my cheeks. “Don’t worry, Olive,” one of the kitchen wolves sneered. “Not like you were going to eat much anyway.” I didn’t respond. Just gathered the mess and dumped it into the trash. My stomach growled, but I’d learned to silence it—just like everything else. Living in this pack meant that you kept your head down, your work done, and your mouth shut. I used to fight it. When I was younger. When I thought if I just tried hard enough, someone would see me. That maybe someone would say my name with kindness instead of pity. Or revulsion. But after my parents died and no one came forward to claim me… I learned. You could disappear in plain sight if you stopped hoping. I slipped out the back door and into the courtyard, needing a second to breathe. The stone beneath my shoes was still wet with dew, the air crisp with autumn’s arrival. And then I saw him. Standing at the far end of the yard, talking to Beta Tobi and a few patrol leaders. Jace WhiteWolff. The Alpha. Even from a distance, he pulled every eye in the room. Tall, powerful, always composed. His jet-black hair gleamed in the morning light, swept back from his face like it couldn’t quite tame him. His icy blue eyes flicked over the group around him like blades—cool, unreadable, calculating. He commanded attention just by breathing. He didn’t look in my direction. He never did. Why would he?