Beta Luna’s Revenge

Revenge Most Itchy

Misty stacked Donovan’s clothes in neat piles, folding each piece with the precise care she once lavished on them during happier times. The soft fabric brushed against her fingers, each item a reminder of what she had lost.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Shayla snapped as she walked past the laundry room and hour later.” Misty clenched her jaw, forcing her hands to work faster. “Just finishing up.”

A throaty laugh echoed from the staircase. “You should be grateful for your job, Misty." Ignoring the sting, Misty straightened, meeting Shayla’s gaze. "Just stick to pressing clothes,”Shayla replied, flipping her hair. “There’s no way you could ever rise above that.”

Misty felt fury bubble beneath her skin, but she masked it with a smile. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy flirting with the Alphas, you’d notice the real work being done.”Shayla narrowed her eyes. “Watch your back, Omega.” As she turned to head back to her apartment, Misty's heart raced, tension crackling in the air. Tonight, the scales would tip. As Shayla’s heels clicked against the polished floor, Misty felt an electrifying rush of defiance surge through her.

“Have fun with the Alphas,” she called out, the words slipping from her lips like poison. Shayla paused, her back stiffening as she shot a scathing glance over her shoulder. “Worry about your own pathetic life instead of mine, Misty,” Shayla retorted, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.

The door creaked open behind her, and Misty tightened her grip on the basket, resisting the urge to launch the clothes at Shayla. Instead, she plastered on a saccharine smile. “I plan to, Shayla." Misty stepped closer to the door, the basket’s edge digging into her palm. “Enjoy your evening," she added, feigning nonchalance as Shayla rolled her eyes and stepped into her apartment, the door slamming shut behind her with a resounding thud that echoed through the quiet hallway.

Misty took a deep breath, letting the breathy remnants of Shayla's contempt wash over her like a bitter tide. Each inhale filled her with determination rather than doubt; she would reclaim a piece of her life tonight. The harsh light of the laundry room flickered above her, casting shifting shadows that mirrored her inner turmoil. Misty set the basket down for a moment, absorbing the echo of Shayla's voice, her barbs still sharp in her mind. Misty clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she contemplated what lay ahead. The urge to lash out rose within her like a tide, each moment spent in this space steeped in self-loathing and resentment.

“Why did you have to betray me, Donovan?” she whispered to the emptiness, her voice tinged with frustration. The question hung in the air, unanswered, as she turned back to the neatly folded clothes. Each piece felt like a weight, reminders of the affection she once lavished on the man who now stood out of reach. Misty’s fingers traced the outline of a dark sweater, recalling the way Donovan would pull it over his head, flashing that crooked smile that had once made her heart race. “You were supposed to be mine,” she whispered, the words bitter on her tongue. The lament hung in the air. "Uh hmm! You forget something?" Misty steadied herself shaking her head no as she lower her glance to the ground. " Well... Then get out freak!" Shayla snapped. Misty obeyed with a large smile on her face. "Happy itch bitch."

Two hours later as the pack leaders and their guests are sitting down for lunch, the Omegas come out of the kitchen to serve them their first course.Afterwards the Omegas step to the side with their backs to the wall. Misty stood against the left wall of the dining room, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. The aroma of roasted meat and fragrant herbs hung in the air, mingling with the low hum of laughter and conversation surrounding her.

Across the long table, Shayla leaned into the Alpha beside her, batting her lashes while tracing her fingers along the edge of his plate.

“Watch this,” Clark whispered, stifling a laugh.

Shayla's laughter broke through the chatter, followed by a deepening need to scratch at her right shoulder.

But Shayla ignored the odd sensation until it became more irritating . She began scratching more furiously along her left side. Her expression shifted to confusion, then desperation.“I can't—what is happening?” She jerked up from her seat, screeching as her hands clawed at her back. Misty caught Clark's eye, a hint of mischief dancing in her gaze.

“Your plan worked better than expected,” he murmured, barely hiding a grin.Misty’s lips twitched. “Just a touch of creativity." Shayla, nearly doubled over, flailed her arms around, desperately seeking relief. The once charming conversation turned to a shocked silence, like a fog rolling in on a sunny day.

Avant chuckled as Shayla bolted from the room, leaving a chorus of bewildered guests in her wake.Misty exchanged a victorious glance with Clark. “Payback can be quite satisfying.”