chapter 6
1186 Words
Everly.
Araina's voice is like a dagger slicing through the darkness, her golden eyes glowing in the dimly lit room.
"You don’t belong here, omega. And I will make sure you never forget it."
I force myself to sit up straight, my pulse pounding in my ears.
I refuse to show fear.
Not to her.
Not to anyone.
But my body betrays me.
My hands tremble slightly in my lap, my wolf curling into itself, feeling the weight of my weakness
Ariana steps closer, the dimly lit candlelight casting shadows on her elegant features.
She’s tall, commanding, and her aura showing authority.
Even without knowing her rank, I can tell she’s powerful.
And worse?
She’s close to John.
I saw it in the way she looked at him, how her fingers casually brushed against his arm earlier, how he didn’t push her away.
She has influence here.
And I have nothing.
Her lips curl into a slow smile as if my silence delights her. "
"You look so lost," she says. "Like a stray pup who has no where to go."
I clench my jaw.
"What do you want?"
Ariana tilts her head, her smile widening.
"Oh, it’s not about what I want. It’s about what he wants."
John.
The mere mention of his name sends shivers down my spine.
"He doesn’t want you here, Everly. He doesn’t even see you as his mate." She leans in slightly, her voice turning into a whisper.
"And yet, you’re still here. Do you know what that makes you?"
I refuse to answer.
She holds the wooden dresser beside her, a slow, deliberate movement.
"A nuisance. A burden."
She straightens, crossing her arms. "And nuisances don’t last long in the Nightshade Pack."
The silence between us is filled with tension.
My throat tightens, but I lift my chin.
"I didn’t ask to be here."
Ariana lets out a soft chuckle.
"No, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are."
She steps back toward the door, her expression turning cold. "And if you’re smart, you’ll remember your place."
The door slams shut behind her.
I exhale shakily, my hands curling into fists.
She wants me to break.
John wants to pretend I don’t exist.
And this entire pack sees me as nothing but a weak omega who doesn’t belong.
But I refuse to be crushed.
Even if I have nothing left, I still have myself.
And I will not let them destroy me.
Not yet.
************
The following morning, sunlight barely comes through my tiny window , when I hear a sudden knock on the door.
Before I can react, the door swings open, and a young omega steps in, her expression filled with nerves.
"You’re expected in the main hall," she murmurs, her eyes flickering with sympathy before she quickly looks away.
I don’t ask why.
I already know.
John.
My mate.
The Alpha who refuses to acknowledge me.
My stomach drops as i stand to, smoothing my wrinkled dress.
My body aches from the hard mattress, my mind still filled with exhaustion, but I push forward.
I can’t show weakness.
Not now.
The omega leads me through the packhouse corridors, where every eyes look at me, filled with whispers and disdain.
By the time we reach the main hall, I'm on the edge, my heart racing
John stands at the far end of the room, his broad frame rigid, his blue eyes unreadable.
Ariana is by his side, of course, her lips curled into satisfacting smile as she watches me.
I keep my expression plain.
Madam Selene’s voice echoes in my head again. "She's been trained, obedient."
I feel sick.
John’s moves his eyes over to me for a brief second before he speaks.
"You will be assigned to the omega quarters." His voice is cold. "You will work as a servant."
I already knew this.
But hearing it aloud, spoken so easily, like I truly am nothing, sends a fresh wave of pain through me.
Still, I refuse to react.
Ariana hums in approval, her fingers trailing over John’s arm. "Seems fitting," she says.
"She wouldn’t last a day anywhere else."
John doesn’t respond.
He doesn’t even look at me again.
I swallowed.
"Understood, Alpha," I say, my voice calm unlike the rage I felt.
Ariana tilts her head, studying me.
"Good. I do hope you understand what that means."
She steps forward, her voice dropping lower, just for me.
"You are at the bottom here. No special treatment. No leniency. If you think being John’s mate means anything, you’re mistaken."
I don’t do anything.
She wants a reaction.
She won’t get one.
She smiles just for a moment.
Then she waves her hand dismissively.
"Take her away."
I turn, forcing my legs to move, forcing my head to stay high.
Even when my chest is burning.
Even when John still says nothing.
************
The omega quarters is quite different from the grand halls of the packhouse.
The air is filled with the scent of hard labor, the distant sound of footsteps echoing down the stone corridors.
I’m handed a thin set of clothes, a reminder of my status, of how little I mean here.
The other omegas barely spare me a glance.
Some look at me with pity.
Others with resentment.
I don’t blame them.
I’m the mate of the Alpha who refuses to claim me.
A mate who bought me.
And yet, I live no better than them.
It makes me an easy target.
Ariana’s influence runs deep.
The moment I step into the laundry room, where I’ve been assigned, I hear whispers from every corner.
"She’s the one." One said.
"I heard the Alpha doesn’t even acknowledge her." Another responded.
"Why is she even here?" Someone said from a distance.
I ignore them.
I focus on my tasks, scrubbing fabric until my fingers ache.
Hours pass.
Then, just as the sun begins to set, a guard appears at the doorway.
"Everly." He calls out
I look up, wiping my wet hands against my dress.
The guard doesn’t bother explaining.
He simply tilts his head, indicating for me to follow.
I do.
Not because I want to.
But because I have no choice.
The walk back through the packhouse is silent.
Until I’m standing in front of him again.
John.
His presence dominates the space, the room filled with nothing but his overwhelming scent.
And yet, he doesn’t look at me like a mate.
He looks at me like a problem that needs to be dealt with, and with urgency
Then, without a word, he lifts something from the table beside him.
A collar.
My heart dropped
"If you want to stay in my pack," John says, his voice steady, "you’ll follow my rules."
My wolf lets out a low, mournful cry, the pain of rejection intensifying.
I don’t move.
I don’t speak.
But inside, I am breaking.
Because this?
This is worse than rejection.
This is a sentence.
A punishment.
A clear, undeniable message.
I am not his mate.
I am nothing.
And if I want to survive?
I have to accept it.
- Writer
