Cuthwulf’s Omega

Cuthwulf’s Omega  Chapter One  Dusty  It is bitterly cold. I can already feel the chill, crisp morning air as I fight to stay in this dream realm where I snuggle against warm cinnamon-colored fur and hear myself let out a contented sigh. I am already waking, as the dream is slipping away. I can see my breath hanging in the early morning frigid air, and I pull the thin cover up over my head. Knowing I have responsibilities and chores to see to before the rest of the household awakens and the punishments I will face should I not complete my tasks. I peek out from my threadbare, gray woolen blanket. Meanwhile, outside, I see the sun is already beginning to show on the horizon, signaling me to the fact I am already late.   I let out the breath I did not even realize I was holding, threw back the covers and jumped to my feet. The chill hits me full force and I feel goosebumps covering my arms and legs. I pull up a pair of black leggings. I quickly removed my white cotton nightgown. Its sleeves barely cover my elbows and the hem ends above my knees. Once it was overly large with the sleeves hanging over my hands and its ill-fitting nature reminds me of the passage of time as I pull on an oversized sickly yellow colored sweater about two sizes too large. I do not have time for these remanences.    My auburn hair is, as per the norm, a literal rat's nest of frizz and curls. I quickly pull my locks into a bun and cover my hair with a black scarf. The sweater gives my skin a shallow color and I frown at my reflection in the tiny mirror above the shelf where I store my few personal items. Like everything I own, it is someone else's hand me down. I try to feel grateful for the warmth of the soft cotton sweater. I tell myself the color or size does not matter. Nobody looks at me anyway. I am nobody, lower than an omega really, as an orphan with unknown lineage, I was fortunate to be if not a member of the Betas family a member of his household at least. Begrudgingly tolerated, something his mate, Zira, would not let me forget.     Yes, I was certainly the lowest of the lowest ranking of said household but still being a member of the second highest ranking household within the Cuthwulf’s pack offered a certain amount of protection. I let out an involuntary shiver as I remembered the horrible conditions of the orphanage where I was housed before coming to this current position. My inner wolf whimpered with her own traumatic memories of that time. Neither of us could remember our parentage or a time before the orphanage. I pushed these thoughts aside as I opened the door. An icy blast quickly jarred me back to reality, my wolf retreated to a warm place in the back of my mind. She is used to being pushed to the background. Much of our childhood involved me denying her existence except when we were all alone.   I firmly pull the door to my garden shed closed. Beta’s wife may have been bound to welcome me into her household when her husband, the pack’s current Beta, ordered it, but that did not mean she had to allow me to live in her home. My first moons existing here were hard and I questioned our survival, as a werewolf my very nature and instincts fight against a solitary existence. I persevered. Despite the intent of being a punishment, this shed has been my oasis, and I am grateful for it at the end of a long day. It is just run down and shabby enough that nobody else had an interest in it. It has been my home for the past 8 years. At times I feel like a rouge wolf existing within a pack.     I quickly ran down the cold and wet, flagstone path. I enter the kitchen as quietly as possible through the heavy sliding glass doors. I feel relieved when I see Zira is not up yet and is not here to scold me for my tardiness. I quickly began preparing breakfast for the family. The beta and his mate have 5 children and with various friends often staying over and important guests visiting with the Beta it was often difficult to predict how many would be present for breakfast each morning. Zira liked breakfast laid out buffet style on the enormous oak sideboard that ran along the east wall of the dining room. I set a dish of fresh butter out and oversized blueberry muffins. I made quick work in the kitchen rapidly filling the sideboard with bowls of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage. I set out the heavy coffee carafes and filled a large platter with waffles and no sooner set it down than the family poured in from the large arched doorway.   Gregor was the first to enter and approach the sideboard filling a large plate with toast, eggs and bacon he grabbed a large mug of hot black coffee and set himself at the head of the table he neither spoke nor made eye contact with anyone as he browsed messages and news on his phone while making quick work of his large breakfast. The kids came in next, occupied with their various electronic devices. I ducked back into the kitchen hoping to avoid Zira and grab myself something to eat. I had been running on adrenaline as I hurriedly set out breakfast, now that I have time to breath I am suddenly starving. I grab a plate and a piece of toast with a small serving of scrambled egg. I set it down at the small table under the window alongside my glass of orange juice. I send up a silent thanks to the Goddess and raise a bite to my lips.  “DUSTY! Leave that!” I hear Zira’s voice ring out. I jump to my feet dropping my fork to the plate.   “Good morning, Zira” I say hoping today will be a good day between us.     Zira’s and I’s relationship is complex in ways I cannot fully understand. Many days will have Zira seeming concerned about my wellbeing and her acceptance as a member of her household and pack other days she will treat me as though I am an interloper of the worst kind. I mostly try to avoid her, keep my head down and do my chores. The adage of children being seen and not heard was my best choice in this household. Although as of late it is obvious my status of child is waning.   “Did you hear me?!” Zira’s voice snapped me back to reality.  “Um...no. I am sorry” I stammer.  “I said ‘maybe skipping breakfast this morning will teach you to wake up and arrive on time in the morning’ now get upstairs and get the rooms cleaned before you leave this morning and do not be late to class. I am tired of getting calls from the school about you.”    Part of me is shocked, part of me knows there are no secrets in this house from Zira. Despite not seeing my tardiness she had noticed it and determined I deserved correcting. There is nothing I can do so I quickly climb the stairs hoping to make quick work of the family’s private rooms and the guest rooms.     The first room belongs to the oldest children, 19-year-old twin sisters. As always, their room is spotless. Their matching side by side canopy beds neatly made. One in palest lilac the other in a muted dusty rose. Ayet and Skye were truly the best of the pack. Smart and well loved by all, their talents seemed limitless. Although they were identical twins and were so terribly similar in every way, I could always tell them apart. In younger years, the girls would often trick various members of the household, even their own mother but they have never fooled me. Nowadays the girls were deep in their studies and had grown far too serious for such pranks. I see a basket with dirty clothes and grab it as I move on to the next room.     This is a room of chaos. I quickly grab the clothes strewn across the floor and add them to my basket. I quickly make the bed and grab a few dishes off the night table. I look around at the future Beta’s room. It is restored to order and surely will pass any inspection. I frown thinking about Bradley’s indifference to me. In our younger years, when I first came here, we played together happily and became fast friends. Until a couple of years ago when his mother began insinuating ours was an inappropriate relationship. I as the nobody orphan, and he as the future Beta. Since then, we rarely speak. To his mother’s delight.  The two younger boys share one room and I look in to see the live-in babysitter is already finishing in here. She gives me a haughty look and simply points to a large laundry bag. I grab the bag balancing the dishes on top of the basket as I head down to the laundry room dropping the dishes in the kitchen along the way. I will leave the bag and basket there until I return from school. Household members laundry and household linens are another of my chores, so the laundry room has often been a small sanctuary for me since rarely did others need to come to this small corner of the basement. As I set the basket on a small folding table, I notice a small brown paper bag. I pull it out and see a small note scrawled “Dusty, she’s in a mood today. Ignore it if you can. Love, Skye”  My eyes well up as I realize I am not as alone as I sometimes feel. I open the bag and see one of my favorite chocolate eclairs from the bakery in town. I gobble the pastry down quickly, nearly choking, as I remember how hungry I am. I get a drink of water and run upstairs grabbing my school bag along the way. As I walk outside, I see everyone has already gone. I will have to get myself to school this morning. Nothing new.     I set off on a brisk walk. I think how lucky I am this is my last year at school. Our education system is based off status, The higher your status the more you will need to know to occupy your status. I have no status. Even the term Omega, reserved for the lowest ranking pack members did not truly apply to me. As an orphan with no blood ties, I have no rightful place here. Perhaps if I had found a mate within this pack that would help establish a position and yet that seems less and less likely as time goes on. Many of my fellow classmates have already discovered their mates. All my classmates know their future paths. My future is very much undecided. Many of the advancements expected of the youth of the pack are age based and I have no idea of my exact and true age. Nobody does, at least nobody I know.    I approach the school and run up the steps. I open the door just in time to hear the last bell. I look up and see the principal approaching with a grim and stern look on his old and weathered face. The clock on the wall says 8:01. It really is not my day....