THE OMEGA'S SECRET HEIR

I don't know how I found myself here, scrubbing the tile gap of the Fortress floors as if my life depended on it, which, in the Crescent Moon Pack, it absolutely did. The chilly stone pressed against my knees. The ache felt like a known solace. I was at the bottom, an Omega, a cleaner, a ghost. The one thing more painful than being overlooked was being noticed. Chilly air brushed against my face when the kitchen door swung wide prompting me to lower my head. The tapping of heels on the tile floor was always a sign that trouble was coming. “Ah see who the mess has brought along " a voice taunted. I didn't have to glance up to recognize Briar, the Beta’s partner. She wasn't of status yet as the Beta’s pick; she acted as if the world belonged to her. Her scent, heavy and cloying, like honey stung my nose. “ present Omega Hale? I assumed you might have, at last, sunk into the slime you hold onto.” My fingers clenched the scrubbing brush firmly. Stay silent. Avoid eye contact. She’s seeking a response. Don't provide one. “Did I give you permission to disregard me?" Briar's tone escalated, infused with the sting of her growing irritation. A ripple of authority emanated from her, sufficient to instill a faint unease in my wolf, a continuous reminder of my position, in servitude. I slowly raised my eyes, fixed on the hem of her expensive, embroidered trousers. “Sorry Luna Briar. I was just completing the floor.” She let out a sniff and moved closer striking the bucket of sudsy water straight into the newly tidied area. The filthy water sprayed onto my skirt and face. I stayed still, not a muscle twitch. A warm shameful stream of water slid down my face. My mouth bore the flavor of soap and sharp bitterness. “Straighten that up " she ordered. "Afterward head over. Change the linens in the North Wing. The Alpha’s suite is adjacent to those chambers so you must stay completely silent. If Kryden catches the faintest noise he’ll tear you apart.” She walked away, her laughter resonating through the corridor. A tightness gripped my chest pain sinking into the hollow where my heart resided. It wasn’t the grime; it was the indifferent malice, the rejection of my very being. My fingers jittered, aching to scratch at my heart to rip it out and strip myself of all feeling simply to be shielded from her hatred. Gradually I stretched out for the tipped-over bucket, the bitterness of anger blending with the aroma of pine cleaner. Keep going. Just keep going. The North Wing remained quiet, it is designated, for the elite and the Alpha’s private affairs. It resembled traversing a gleaming and intimidating tomb. I stepped into the supply closet. Grabbed a pile of clean white papers. The vastness of this part of the Fortress consistently made me feel important and more trivial. It was a symbol of Kryden Arden’s influence. That was where the real danger resided. A sudden voice, deep and guttural, echoed from the hallways end by the Alphas private quarters causing my breath to halt. I immediately stiffened, pressing myself against the wall with the sheets held tightly to my chest. “The Eldest has been informed. We have to move tomorrow despite the danger.” It was Kryden. His tone was inherently deep. When he spoke with command it echoed through the Fortress’s stone, a primal noise that demanded instant focus. I glanced around the corner immediately wishing I hadn’t acted hastily. He was engaged in conversation with Elias Thorn, the Beta. Kryden was thirty. Bore the heaviness of ages. Clad in a fitted suit, his imposing figure was completely authoritative. The creases near his mouth and the tiredness under his blue eyes suggested the immense weight of being the Alpha. He wasn’t flawless. He embodied all an Alpha should be: strong, aloof and strikingly handsome. His hair, dense and dark cascaded over his jawline as he paid attention to Elias. I observed him quietly. This was my world: sneaking glimpses of the man unaware of my presence, the man I was not allowed to even imagine. My grip on the sheets grew firmer. The warmth coloring my face wasn’t due to effort; it was the intense infatuation I had harbored for years. It wasn’t a daydream. It was a heart-rattling realization that whenever he was close my entire world tilted just a little bit. Yesterday I unexpectedly collided with him in the corridor causing a basket of fresh towels to fall. He didn’t even slow down, just stepped over the clutter. Still as he moved by his aroma, snow, ozone and old stone surrounded me, triggering a thrill of connection straight through my spine. It was an exhilarating instant, a silent exchange, between our wolves that the humans were too courteous, too restricted by hierarchy to recognize. At last he handed me his profile. He lifted a hand. Ran it through his dense hair expressing tired exasperation. “The Elders insist on the prophecy,” Kryden said, his voice dropping slightly. “They think sole political alliance can counter the danger of the eyed curse. My father thought so well. I refuse to be the Alpha who allows his pack to succumb to superstition regardless of what the Moon attempts to convey to me.” I frowned slightly, confusion breaking through my adoration. Eyed affliction? My eyes had a light silver tint, something my mother constantly urged me to conceal, insisting they gave me a faded appearance. I had always believed it was poor heredity. Elias clapped him on the shoulder. “You are on the path Kryden. For the pack. Tomorrow night is crucial.” They moved off their speech, growing faint as they made their way down the staircase. I remained still until the deep quiet of the North Wing enveloped me then slipped quietly out of the closet. My heart throbbed wildly like a drumbeat, against my chest. I gazed at the spot where Kryden had been. The subtle fresh aroma of his wolf still hung in the air, a trace, in the chilly atmosphere. I moved toward the window staring out at the descending sun. Tomorrow evening was the Mating Ceremony. Tomorrow evening the moon will take Kryden’s mate. Kryden would take his Luna, the one selected not by destiny but by political obligation. A persistent ache developed in my chest. He was correct. He was unable to have a destined mate from the class. He couldn't afford me. I gripped the sheets more firmly burying my face in their gentle fresh scent. For a moment I pictured that scent as solely his. I pictured myself as the one he was upset about, about the one he truly cared for. Engaging in that was risky. I swiftly pulled down the sheets compelling myself to return to reality pushing my feelings back, into the shadowy compartment where they were meant to stay. My existence revolved around work. My value was quietness. My position was Omega.. Alpha Kryden Arden was merely the cause my dreams felt like dust. I needed to return to my duties. I had to cleanse the trace of him and the brief frightening hope he symbolized. I headed to the Omega barracks to switch into slightly wet garments before beginning the tough job of replacing all the North Wing linens. The chill penetrated my bones painfully reminding me of my position. My hectic day was nowhere near finished. I labored until I could hardly remain upright fatigue, the force capable of silencing the ache in my soul. The moon was about to appear. I merely wished it wouldn't cause any problems. I hadn’t noticed the extent of the chaos the moon was already stirring. It wasn’t occurring in the hall or the grand offices but within my own body. I lay on my cot inside the packed omega barracks attempting to disregard the sharp aching in my lower stomach. The barracks were oppressive, heavy, with the musty odor of countless unwashed bodies. I felt drained. Sleep eluded me. A profound instinctive heat started to radiate within my being. It felt strange, unsettling. No. Not now. Not here. Fear, keen and icy pierced my weariness. It seemed as though the surrounding air was intensifying in warmth. This was the unavoidable truth of a lone wolf, particularly an omega: the initial signs of heat. If I got caught Kryden’s security wolves would haul me away. The rules were strict: a wolf in heat had to be either bonded or confined, especially during the week of the Mating Ceremony. My scent would cause a disturbance, an offense, to the order Kryden aimed to uphold. I clenched my hands holding them over my lips to muffle a whimper. The warmth was growing stronger, swirling in my abdomen spreading outwards. It was overpowering, instinctive and completely, beyond my command. I sensed the dread of being found on my tongue. I needed to conceal myself. I had to leave the barracks before anyone saw. I stood up gradually drawing my shawl closer around me attempting to hide the shaking of my frame. If only I could reach the isolated outside hut I could endure this in solitude. I wasn’t sure how long it would persist. The other option, public disgrace and involuntary detention, was far too dreadful to imagine. I made an unsteady step followed by another pushing myself toward the door compelled by the urgent need for solitude before the warmth overwhelmed me entirely. The silence of the barracks was about to break.