THE OMEGA WHO BECAME QUEEN

The first thing Aria learned about being an Omega was simple. You don’t exist unless someone needs something from you. And even then, you’re not seen. You’re used. The stone floor beneath her knees was cold enough to sink deep into her bones, but she didn’t move. Comfort was a habit she’d long since broken. “Scrub it again.” The voice was sharp, careless. Aria lowered her head. “Yes, Beta.” Her grip tightened around the rough cloth as she dipped it back into the bucket. The water was a dull grey, the surface trembling just enough to catch a warped reflection of her face. She looked away almost immediately. There was nothing there worth seeing. Around her, the Alpha house moved like a living thing. Servants rushed past. Betas snapped orders. Warriors strode through the halls with that easy, unshakable confidence of wolves who knew exactly where they stood. Aria kept her gaze down when a pair of boots stopped just inches from her hand. She stilled. Then she dragged the cloth across the stone again. Once. Twice. “Did you not hear me?” the Beta snapped. “I did, Beta,” she said, her voice steady and low. “Then why does it still look filthy?” Before she could answer, his foot struck the bucket. Water spilled across the floor, soaking through her already worn dress. A few drops hit her face. Laughter followed from somewhere behind him. Aria didn’t react. That was another rule. Learn it fast, or suffer for it. Don’t react. “Clean it properly,” he said, irritation thick in his voice. “The Alpha King arrives in two days. If this place looks like a pigsty, I’ll have your hide.” “Yes, Beta.” He lingered for a second longer, then turned and walked off. The laughter went with him. Silence settled back in. The Alpha King was coming in two days' time. You could feel it in the walls. Everything had shifted the moment the announcement came that morning. The whole pack had snapped into motion. Repairs. Cleaning. Orders flying faster, sharper. At least for the wolves who mattered. For Omegas, it meant something else entirely. More work. More pressure. More chances to get it wrong. Aria scrubbed harder. The stain was barely there now, faint enough to miss if you weren’t looking for it. But that didn’t matter. It didn’t need to be clean. It needed to be perfect. Footsteps approached again. Lighter this time. Aria stiffened but didn’t look up. “Aria…” That voice was different. Softer. Familiar. She paused, then lifted her head. Lina stood a few steps away, hands clasped tightly in front of her. Like Aria, she wore the plain, faded clothes of an Omega, though hers had been mended with more care. “You should take a break,” Lina whispered, glancing down the hall. “You’ve been here since dawn.” Aria shook her head. “I’m almost done.” “You said that an hour ago.” A faint smile touched Aria’s lips. “Then I must be getting slower.” Lina didn’t return it. “You heard what they’re saying, didn’t you?” she asked quietly. “About the King.” Aria nodded once. “They say he’s different,” Lina went on, lowering her voice further. “Stronger than any Alpha. That his wolf can make others submit without even trying.” Aria’s eyes dropped back to the floor. “That’s what they say about all Kings.” “No,” Lina said, more firmly this time. “This is different. Even the Betas are afraid.” That made Aria pause. Betas… afraid? She went back to scrubbing. “Then we should make sure the floors are clean.” Lina stepped closer. “Aria, I’m serious.” “So am I.” There was no bite in her tone. Just quiet certainty. Lina hesitated, then crouched beside her. “You need to be careful when he arrives,” she said. “Don’t look at him. Don’t speak unless he speaks to you. And whatever you do…” She trailed off. Aria glanced at her. “What?” Lina swallowed. “Don’t draw attention.” A small, humorless smile crossed Aria’s face. “When have I ever drawn attention?” Lina didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. By the time the sun dipped low, the halls gleamed. Aria’s arms ached. Her knees felt like they’d turned to stone. But the floor was spotless. She leaned back slightly, flexing her fingers. “Finished?” The voice cut clean through the quiet. Aria froze. She turned slowly. The Beta stood at the far end of the hall, arms crossed. Her chest tightened. “Yes, Beta.” He walked toward her, his boots echoing against the polished stone. His eyes swept over the floor, taking in every detail. Aria held her breath. His foot hovered over a faint mark. So faint, she hadn’t even noticed it. “This,” he said, pointing. Her stomach dropped. “I…” The slap came fast and hard. It knocked her sideways, her shoulder slamming into the ground. Pain burst through her, sharp and immediate. “Useless,” he spat. Blood filled her mouth. She pushed herself up slowly, vision unsteady, and lowered her head again. “I’m sorry, Beta.” “Sorry doesn’t clean floors.” He grabbed the bucket and dumped the remaining water over the spot. “Start again.” Her fingers pressed into the stone. For a brief second, something flared inside her chest. Hot. Sharp. Wrong. Then it was gone. “Yes, Beta,” she said quietly. Aria stared at the water spreading across the floor. Then she reached for the cloth. And started again. Sleep didn’t come easily that night. It never did. The Omega quarters were cramped and cold. Thin mats lined the floor, each one claimed by someone who had learned to take up as little space as possible. Aria lay on her side, staring at the ceiling. Soft breathing filled the room. Most of the others were already asleep. Exhaustion made that easy. But her mind wouldn’t settle. The King is coming. The thought circled again and again. She closed her eyes. That’s when it started. The whisper. Faint enough to almost miss. “Aria…” Her eyes snapped open. Darkness. Stillness. No one had moved. No one had spoken. Her heart began to pound. Slowly, she pushed herself up. “Aria…” Clearer this time. Not from outside. From within. Her breath caught. “No,” she murmured. It was happening again. It had been weeks. Maybe longer. Her hand pressed against her chest. “Stop…” But the voice didn’t fade. It grew stronger. Something stirred beneath her ribs. A strange pressure, like something waking up… stretching into space it had always owned. Aria squeezed her eyes shut. “I said stop.” The pressure pulsed. Silence dropped all at once. Aria gasped, her body going slack with relief. Slowly, she lay back down. Her heart still raced beneath her palm. For a long time, she didn’t move. Didn’t think. Because thinking meant remembering. And remembering meant questions she couldn’t answer. Omegas didn’t hear voices. Omegas didn’t feel power. Her fingers curled slightly. No. She forced the thought away. Whatever that was, it meant nothing. It had to mean nothing. Because in this world, being different wasn’t a gift. It was a death sentence. Far above the Omega quarters, deep within the highest part of the Alpha house, a wolf lifted its head. Its eyes glowed faintly in the dark. And for the first time in years— It stirred.