THE REJECTED OMEGA'S LIGHT

CHAPTER 4 — A New World

A knock came at the door.

Rena's body went stiff. She stared at the wooden door, waiting.

Another knock, firm.

"Open up."

A woman's voice, younger and sharper.

Rena pushed herself off the cot and pulled the door open.

A woman stood there in her mid-twenties. Dark hair pulled back, eyes that moved fast. She wore a tunic nicer than anything Rena had ever seen.

"You're the Omega," the woman said.

Rena nodded.

The woman looked her over—torn clothes, bruises, the way Rena held her shoulders.

"He wants to see you."

Rena's throat tightened. "Now?"

"Now."

The woman turned and walked. Rena followed. Every step sent a reminder through her back, but she didn't slow down.

They crossed the yard. Wolves stopped to watch. Rena kept her eyes on the woman's back.

They reached the large house. The woman pushed open a heavy door and stepped inside. Rena followed.

The hallway was wide, the floors smooth stone. Torches flickered on the walls. Rena had never been in a place like this.

The woman led her to a closed door and knocked twice.

"Enter."

The voice was low. Calm. Familiar.

The woman pushed the door open. "Go in."

Rena moved past her. Her heart pounded.

The room was large. A desk near the window. Shelves with books. A fire burned in the hearth. And there, by the window, stood the man from the yard.

Alpha Darien.

He faced the window, his back to her. He turned.

His eyes found hers. Gray, like storm clouds.

Rena dropped her gaze to the floor. Her fingers trembled.

Silence stretched between them.

"Look at me," he said.

She lifted her head.

He studied her. Not like the traders—checking teeth, measuring worth. He looked at her face. Her eyes.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Rena."

He said nothing for a moment. Then, "You're hurt."

He moved from the window, walking toward her. She forced herself not to step back. He stopped a few feet away.

"Turn," he said.

She hesitated.

"Turn around."

She turned. Her back faced him. She could feel his eyes on her torn clothes, on the blood dried through the fabric.

"Who ordered the beating?" he asked.

"Alice."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, "She won't touch you again."

Rena didn't know what to say. She had heard promises before. They always broke.

He walked back to the window. "You'll stay here. In the pack. You'll work. But no one will raise a hand to you."

She turned to face him. "Why?"

He looked at her. Something flickered in his eyes. Then it was gone.

"Because I said so."

She didn't understand. But she knew better than to push.

He sat at the desk. "You're dismissed."

She turned and walked to the door. Her hand was on the handle when his voice came again.

"Rena."

She stopped.

"The woman who brought you—Elara. She'll show you where to go. If you need something, you go to her."

Rena nodded and stepped out.

Elara waited in the hallway. "Well?"

Rena didn't answer.

Elara pushed off the wall. "Come on."

They walked through the house and out into the yard. The sun had moved lower, the light turning gold.

"Don't mind them," Elara said. "They'll get used to you."

"Get used to what?"

Elara glanced over her shoulder. "Having an Omega in the middle of the pack. It's not something we do here. Omegas live on the edges. But he put you in the main house."

Rena's steps slowed. "The main house?"

"That room you just left? That's where you'll sleep. One of the small rooms off the back."

Rena didn't understand. Omegas belonged at the edges. That was the rule.

Elara stopped in front of a door at the back of the house. She opened it—a small room. A bed with clean sheets. A table with a basin. A window with the last of the daylight.

"This is yours. Get some rest, tomorrow you start work."

Rena stepped inside. Her fingers touched the bed. The sheets were soft. Clean.

She turned to Elara. "Why is he doing this?"

Elara's expression softened a little. "I don't know. He's not a man who explains himself."

She closed the door.

Rena stood in the middle of the room. The silence was different here. Not heavy. Peaceful. Like space to breathe.

She sat on the bed. The mattress gave under her weight, soft in a way she wasn't used to. Her back still hurt, but the pain had faded.

She looked at the window. The sky was darkening, the first stars appearing.

Her hand went to her chest. The warmth was there again. Faint. Quiet. But there.

She didn't understand any of it. The room. The sheets. The way he had looked at her. The words: *She won't touch you again.*

She lay back on the bed, her eyes on the ceiling. Her body was heavy, her mind too tired to hold onto questions.

"Is this real?" she whispered to herself. "A room to myself. My own space."

She let her eyes close, enjoying the peace that came with silence for the first time.