The Rejected Omega's Obeseeion

I woke to laughter. Not the warm kind that made you want to smile along, but the sharp, ugly kind that dug under your skin. It always came before the sun even thought about rising—snickers and whispers from the bunks across the room. They never said my name loud, just hissed it like it was something dirty, something worth spitting out. I told myself I was used to it, that it didn’t sting anymore. But if I’m honest? It still did. Every. Single. Time. “Look, the omega’s drooling again.” I blinked hard, rubbing at the corner of my mouth, trying to chase away the heaviness of sleep. The rag I used as a blanket had already slipped to the floor, leaving the chill of the stone floor biting at my bare feet. Mornings were the worst. Not because of the chores—I could scrub floors until my knuckles bled. Not because of the endless running around or the way my skin cracked by nightfall. No. I hated mornings because mornings meant facing them. The other girls had nests of pillows, furs piled high, little gifts from the stronger wolves in the pack who wanted favors. Me? My cot sagged like it had given up on me years ago. Maybe it had.I stretched, my joints protesting with little cracks, the dull ache settling deep in my bones. With a sigh, I gathered my tangled hair into a loose braid, not caring how uneven it looked. Inside me, my wolf shifted faintly—restless, like she always was—but quiet, too quiet, as if even she had learned to stay small. Eighteen years old and still no shift. Still weak. Still nothing. The giggles rose into snickers as I bent to lace up my boots, and then a voice sing-songed, “Careful, little omega, wouldn’t want to trip on your own two feet again.” Heat crawled up my neck. I kept my head down. That was the trick: keep moving, don’t answer, don’t give them more reasons. The pack already saw me as the forgotten one, the extra body that barely counted. If I argued back, if I snapped, it’d just mean punishment later. So I stood, squared my shoulders the way I’d taught myself to, and pushed out of the quarters with their laughter trailing behind me like a curse I couldn’t shake. The moment I stepped into the hall, the smell hit me—roasted meat, butter melting on fresh bread, the kind of food that made your stomach ache with wanting. Mine growled on cue, but that didn’t matter. Omegas didn’t eat here. Omegas served. I balanced the tray with both hands, whispering the same silent prayer I always did: steady, steady, steady. Every step had to be perfect. No spilling. No shaking. No mistakes. Because one slip was all it took to turn me into their entertainment. The dining hall stretched out in front of me, crowded with long wooden tables packed full of warriors and ranked wolves. Their voices were loud, full of easy pride and power, the kind of sound that reminded you exactly where you stood in this pack. At the very end, high on the raised platform, sat Alpha Kael. Even from here, his presence was a weight pressing down on my chest. Broad shoulders, hair dark as midnight, eyes that made the air seem to hold its breath. My chest squeezed every time I let my gaze brush over him—not because I was foolish enough to hope. No. I knew better. It wasn’t longing. It was the brutal reminder that he was everything I’d never be. Strong. Respected. Wanted. “Faster, omega!” a warrior barked, his tone sharp enough to sting. The tray wobbled as I quickened my steps. Almost there. Just a few more feet. Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Then it happened. A foot slid out, deliberate, waiting. I didn’t see whose it was—maybe one of the girls who’d been whispering earlier, maybe some warrior who thought it would be funny. Didn’t matter. My toe caught. My body pitched forward, the tray tipping in a sickening slow-motion. It all happened too fast to stop. The clatter of plates hitting stone echoed through the hall like a gong. Hot stew splattered across the floor, spraying my arms and the hem of my dress. The sound of gasps cut sharp through the air—then came the laughter. Loud, unrestrained, feeding off itself until it filled every corner of the room. My knees slammed the stone floor so hard I saw white for a second. Pain throbbed up my legs, but it was nothing compared to the burn of all those eyes on me. The warriors grinning. The ranked girls covering their mouths in fake shock before they burst out giggling. Every snicker felt like a knife twisting deeper, until my chest was so tight I couldn’t breathe. “Clumsy omega!” “Can’t even carry food!” “Maybe we should feed her scraps on the floor where she belongs!” Heat prickled behind my eyes. Don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of them. I scrambled to gather the pieces, ignoring the stew soaking into my dress. My hands shook as I reached for the shards of plate, one cutting into my palm. Blood welled, mixing with the mess on the ground. And then silence. Heavy silence. I froze, realizing why. Alpha Kael had stood. His shadow fell over me, blotting out the light. I froze. He was so close I could feel the weight of his gaze, sharp and unreadable, and my heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape. Every instinct screamed at me to bow, to lower my head, to make myself small. But I couldn’t move. For a heartbeat—two, three—he just stared. The whole hall held its breath with me. Then his voice came, low and steady, a command wrapped in steel. “Clean it up.” That was all. No punishment. No scolding. No kindness either. Just… dismissal. The laughter rushed back, louder than before, a wave crashing over me until my ears rang. My hand stung where the glass had cut me, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest. He hadn’t even seen me. Not really. I was nothing. To him. To them. To anyone. By the time I slipped outside, the sun had barely risen, painting the horizon in soft streaks of gold and pink. My dress clung stiff and sticky with dried stew, and blood still trickled from the cut in my palm. I carried the tray back to the kitchen, head down, silent. When no one was watching, I slipped away toward the edge of the forest. Here, at least, the trees didn’t laugh. The forest was quiet, safe—like it had been waiting for me. I sank to the grass and pulled my knees tight against my chest. The first tear broke free before I could stop it, hot against my cheek. Then another, and another, until my vision blurred. “Moon Goddess,” I whispered, my voice shaking, “do you even hear me?” My wolf stirred faintly inside me, restless, like she wanted to answer but couldn’t find the words. “I don’t ask for much,” I choked out. “Just… a place. Somewhere I belong. Someone who sees me.” My throat burned. “I can’t keep living like I’m invisible. Like I don’t matter.” The wind stirred the leaves overhead, soft as a sigh. I pressed my forehead against my knees and shut my eyes, clinging to the sound. I wanted to believe She was listening. That maybe things could change. That someday, I wouldn’t be the forgotten omega. The weak one. The punchline. But in the hollow place deep inside me, where hope had been broken again and again, I wasn’t sure anymore. Still, I prayed. Because praying was all I had left.