By morning, the pack's kindness had vanished.
Whispers had turned to commands. Glances had turned to glares.
Seraphina's honeyed words the night before, subtle, seemingly harmless, had spread like poison through the air.
"She tries to win sympathy," she had said softly over dinner.
"Pretending to be fragile, so the Beta will pity her."
She didn't need to name me. Everyone already knew who she meant.
Now, every pack member treated me like a stain they couldn't scrub out.
The kitchen maids shoved extra baskets my way with fake smiles.
"Since you have so much free time, Luna," they'd say, letting the word drip with mockery.
The guards asked me to sweep their quarters. The matrons ordered me to scrub the training yard steps. Even the young omegas, once timid around me, began to whisp
