My Secret, My Bully, My Mate

Aria Vale I learned a long time ago that the best way to survive Shadowmere Academy is to become invisible. Not literally, of course. That would require the kind of power I don't have. The kind of power reserved for Alphas who walk these halls like they own them. Because they do. I press myself against the cold stone wall as a group of Alphas strides past, their laughter echoing off the vaulted ceilings. They don't see me. They never do. To them, I'm just part of the scenery, as unremarkable as the worn tapestries hanging in the corridors or the scuff marks on the ancient floors. That's exactly how I want it. My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag as I hurry toward the dining hall. I'm already late for breakfast, which means the good food will be gone. Not that Betas like me get much choice anyway. We eat what the Alphas leave behind, and we're supposed to be grateful for it. The morning sun filters through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Shadowmere looks beautiful in this light, almost magical. It's easy to forget how cruel this place really is when the architecture takes your breath away. The academy has stood here for over three hundred years, training generation after generation of werewolves to take their places in pack society. For Alphas, that means leadership, power, respect. For Betas like me, it means learning our place at the bottom. I slip through the heavy wooden doors into the dining hall. The smell of bacon and fresh bread makes my stomach growl, but I keep my head down as I make my way to the Beta section. The hall is divided just like everything else at this academy. Alphas sit at the front on cushioned chairs at tables laden with the best food. Betas cluster in the middle on hard benches. Omegas, what few there are, huddle at the back near the kitchen doors. I grab a tray and join the line. There's still some oatmeal left, and a few pieces of toast. I take what I can get. "Aria." I turn to see Sierra waving at me from our usual table in the corner. Her red hair catches the light, making her easy to spot even in the crowded hall. She's the only real friend I have here, the only person who doesn't treat me like I'm worthless. I'm halfway to the table when it happens. My foot catches on something, and suddenly I'm falling. My tray flies from my hands, oatmeal and toast scattering across the floor. I hit the ground hard, my palms scraping against the stone. Laughter erupts around me. I don't need to look up to know who tripped me. I can feel his presence like a cold wind against my skin. Lucian Blackwood. "Watch where you're going, Vale." His voice is smooth, cultured, and dripping with contempt. "Oh wait, you can't. Betas don't have the sense to look where they walk." More laughter. I keep my eyes on the floor, watching oatmeal seep between the cracks in the stone. My face burns with humiliation, but I've learned not to cry. Not here. Not in front of them. "Get up," Lucian says. "You're making a mess." I push myself to my knees, gathering the scattered pieces of toast with shaking hands. A boot appears in my line of vision. Expensive leather, polished to a shine. Lucian's boot. He steps on the toast I was reaching for, grinding it into the floor. "Leave it," he says. "The Omegas will clean it up. That's what they're for. Just like you're for... well, what are you for, exactly?" I don't answer. I never do. Responding only makes it worse. "I asked you a question, Vale." His voice hardens. "What are Betas for?" My throat tightens. The hall has gone quiet now, everyone watching. Waiting to see what I'll do. Waiting to see me break. "To serve," I whisper. "What was that? I didn't hear you." "To serve," I say louder, hating myself for it. Hating him more. "That's right." He moves his boot, finally releasing the ruined toast. "Now clean this up and try not to embarrass yourself further." He walks away, his friends following. Their laughter fades as they return to their table, already forgetting about me. Just another morning's entertainment. Sierra appears beside me, helping me gather the mess. She doesn't say anything. What is there to say? This happens almost every day. Lucian Blackwood has made tormenting me his personal hobby, and no one stops him. No one dares. He's the Alpha heir, son of one of the most powerful pack leaders in the region. In a few months, he'll graduate and take his place as a true Alpha. He'll have his own pack, his own territory, his own destiny. And I'll still be here, invisible and insignificant, counting down the days until I can finally leave this place behind.