XENA:
The day began like any other, papers, orders, and a thousand tasks no one ever noticed but always expected to be done. The corridors of the pack house echoed with laughter from higher ranks, while omegas like me passed silently, ghosts keeping the walls standing.
It used to not bother me. I’d grown used to it, even learned to joke about it.
Until today.
I was on my way to the records room, arms full of files, when I heard them, a group of warriors leaning against the corridor wall.
“Look who we’ve got here,” one of them drawled. “Beta Jordan’s favorite little shadow.”
I kept walking. That was my first mistake.
“Not so fast,” another said, stepping in front of me. His uniform gleamed, polished like his ego. “You think because you carry papers all around, you’re suddenly impo
