Two
1099 Words
The Crystal Moon Packhouse buzzed with quiet morning activity. Sunlight poured in through the tall arched windows, glinting off polished wood floors and casting soft shadows across the walls. The kitchen, nestled at the heart of the house, smelled like butter, herbs, and freshly baked bread.
Abigail moved swiftly, her hands a blur as she stirred scrambled eggs in a pan. She wore her usual soft gray hoodie and dark jeans, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She worked in silence, her movements graceful and efficient, just the way she liked it.
She wasn’t alone. The other omegas bustled around her, preparing breakfast trays, chopping vegetables, washing dishes. Abigail didn’t mind the work—it gave her something to focus on. Something to do other than think about Rohan and how he had barely looked her way at school.
Again.
“Ugh, seriously? How long does it take to make eggs?”
The voice cut through the room like a blade dipped in sugar and spite.
Tracy.
Abigail stiffened slightly but didn’t turn around.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Tracy continued, loud enough for the rest of the kitchen to hear. She stood with her arms crossed, wearing a skin-tight cream sweater, her long dark hair perfectly styled even this early in the morning. “I asked for scrambled eggs. You’re the omega. That means you make them, right?”
“Oh Goddess, she’s back, why can’t she eat in her parents house.” Iris muttered in Abigail’s mind. “Someone give her a muzzle.”
Abigail remained calm, silently plating the eggs and placing them neatly on a white dish. She turned and handed it to Tracy with a polite nod, her gaze briefly flicking to the side as if to say, here you go.
Tracy took the plate and walked dramatically to the table like she was starring in her own TV show. She picked up a fork, took one bite—
—and immediately gagged.
“Ew! Are you trying to poison me?” Tracy snapped, slamming the plate down so hard the fork clattered onto the floor. “This is so salty I could float in it! Ugh!”
All eyes turned to them.
Abigail’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t flinch.
She knew she hadn’t added too much salt.
There was nothing wrong with the eggs.
Tracy was just being… Tracy.
“What’s going on?” a deep voice cut in.
Rohan.
He walked into the kitchen, wearing a black T-shirt and joggers, his hair slightly tousled like he’d just gotten out of bed. His eyes landed on the scene: his girlfriend scowling, a plate of eggs untouched, Abigail standing silently with her hands clasped in front of her.
“Babe,” Tracy whined, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “This omega made me the nastiest scrambled eggs ever. I swear, she’s doing it on purpose.”
Abigail’s heart sank as Rohan looked at her, his expression unreadable.
“Hey,” he said gently, turning to Abigail. “Can you just make her another plate, please?”
Abigail hesitated. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t warm either.
She nodded and turned back to the stove, her fingers tightening around the handle of the pan.
“Are you serious right now?” Iris grumbled. “The egg is perfect. I should come out and throw the whole pan at her.”
“Please don’t,” Abigail thought, though a tiny part of her wouldn’t have minded watching Tracy dodge flying eggs.
As Abigail worked, she could feel Tracy’s smug gaze burning into her back.
“Thank you, babe,” Tracy cooed at Rohan, curling her arm around his. “You’re always so sweet.”
Rohan offered a small smile, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—he knew Tracy could be a handful at times.
Abigail set down a new plate of eggs, exactly the same as the first, and stepped away.
Before anyone could say another word, the door to the kitchen opened and in walked Alpha Jake.
The entire room seemed to shift.
He was tall and broad, with graying black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a presence that commanded silence. People moved without being told when Alpha Jake entered a room.
He scanned the space with a quick glance, sensing the tension, the awkward pause. His eyes landed on Tracy, then Abigail, then Rohan.
But he didn’t comment.
“Rohan,” he said instead, his voice low and firm. “Come with me.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out.
Rohan gave Tracy a quick kiss on the cheek, muttered, “I’ll be back,” and followed his father.
Abigail let out a quiet breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
⸻
Inside Alpha Jake’s Office
The door shut with a soft click, muffling the morning chaos behind them.
The Alpha moved to the desk, placing a leather folder on the surface and gesturing for Rohan to sit.
“We caught three trespassers last night,” Alpha Jake said without wasting time. “Two are dead. The third’s being held for questioning.”
Rohan’s eyes narrowed. “Dreadfang?”
Jake nodded slowly. “We suspect it, but we can’t move without confirmation. If we start accusing packs without proof, it’ll trigger the wrong kind of attention.”
The room grew heavier. Dreadfang Pack—Crystal Moon’s greatest rival. A shadowy group that had been circling their territory for months now, always just out of reach, always watching.
All for one thing.
The Moonstone.
An ancient relic hidden deep within the Crystal Moon Pack’s land. Its origin was unknown, but it gave them strength beyond normal wolf packs—faster healing, sharper senses, stronger bonds.
And it was the one thing Dreadfang would kill to possess.
“We’ll interrogate the survivor tonight,” Jake continued. “I want you there. You need to start learning how to deal with threats like this.”
Rohan nodded, jaw tight.
He could feel the pressure building. Being Alpha wasn’t just about leading—it was about protecting, outsmarting enemies, making impossible choices.
And if Dreadfang was truly making moves again, they needed to be ready.
“Keep this quiet,” Jake warned. “Until we know who sent them, we don’t say a word to the rest of the pack.”
Rohan nodded again.
But a strange feeling settled in his chest as he stood to leave.
Something was changing.
Something was coming.
And for the first time… he wasn’t sure he’d be ready.
- Writer
