The Omega He Rejected Was His Greatest Sin

My mother used to tell me during my bed time story that there are two kinds of lives; the loud life that is full of names, bloodline rights, and people who only expect things from you. And the quiet life, the kind you have to survive by keeping your head down and your mouth shut. We lived the second kind of life. Our house sat at the far end of a forgotten town, where most maps do not bother to name. It was just a one road in and one road out settlement. Always dusty in the dry season, and muddy when the rains come. Ours is the kind of place that people only passed through, but never stayed long enough to remember. That was always how my mother wanted it. And I grew up in that house with creaky wood floors, and peeling paint. Even the windows rattle whenever the wind howls too hard at night. There are no pack banners, no crest carved above the door, and no visitors. It was just my mother and I...and the silence she carefully built around us. My mother is a gifted healer, but she worked nights at a bar near the market road. How I always hated to go to that bar. It is not the kind of bar with loud music and laughter spilling out into the street. But it is fine, heavy with smoke and spilled alcohol, and filled with men who talked too harshly and too loudly. They are wolves from broken packs, and drifters, and betas who had lost their standing. Sometimes, Alphas who have nothing left to command come there; Alphas who lived with nothing except fear. My mother served them drinks, though with a steady hand and an unreadable face, but I knew she wasn't happy serving them. I knew mother would have preferred doing something else other than serving the broken wolves. But that is part of the silent life we lived. Every night, my mother will tell me the same thing without failing before leaving the house. "Lock the doors, and don't open it for anyone.". I will nod my head, like it has become a ceremony every night. "And don't shift.". She will warn further. Another nod. It usually equals three nods every night before mother leaves. It has become so consistent that I subconsciously respond even in my head. "Only read your books..". The third ceremonious warning would come, as mother approached the door. And I will nod again. I was registered as an omega at birth, the lowest rank of Omega. Weak, and unimportant. That was what the papers said, anyway. And what the local pack office stamped without even looking twice at my face. My mother, too, never argued. She never fought the label for the next thirteen years of my life since we arrived at the local pack. Mother just nodded, took the document without minding, and just walked away with her head held too high for someone who was supposed to be grateful. I didn't understand why, then. I just thought she was proud.... Probably proud of being a mother. Little did I know she was afraid. Growing up, I learned quickly that omegas are not supposed to ask questions. We don't stand out, and we don't challenge anything.... especially our fate. Other kids my age in the village already shifted, but I didn't. Not because I can't, but because my mother said I shouldn't. They bragged about their wolves, and how they have tested their strength in the woods, but I don't. I just stayed inside, and read the old books my mother brought home from nowhere I could never quite place. I learned how to cook, and how to do house chores even before I learned how to fight my own emotions. I learned how to clean wounds, when my mother returned early the following morning with bruises on her wrists and neck sometimes. And I learned how to listen without reacting, and how to swallow words before they turned into trouble. One day, I thought I had grown up enough to ask about my father...and I did. It was early in the morning, mother and I were busy in the kitchen. I was cooking, while my mother did the dishes. "What about papa?". My voice sounded so pale and distant that I almost did not believe they belonged to me. The air in the room went tight, and I saw water spilled from the dishes in my mother's hand. "He is gone.'. that was all she could say; sharp and final. "Gone? Where?'. I had pressed a little further, not minding the impact of my curious questions on my mother. "That is all you need to know.". Mother had replied, still in that same sharp tone and intentionally avoiding my eyes. But I pushed. . "Did he die?" Then she turned to me, with her hand frozen around the cup she was washing. "It is worse, Ariyah. And don't ask again". I looked at the water that spilled from the cup as it soaked the creaky wood floors and I didn't say any more words. And didn't ask again. I only buried myself in my books, reading like my life depended on it. At the local pack school, every child was talking about college. But I didn't. Going to college would mean staying away from home. And staying away from home would mean leaving mother alone. I didn't want that. Besides, college involved money, and mother was saving just enough to buy us groceries from the local pack mall. Most nights, after mother came home .smelling like the smoke from the men at the bar, and alcohol. She would sit at the small table in our kitchen and rub her temples like she was trying to erase something from her mind. And sometimes, she would look at me with an expression I didn't understand...like something was bothering her about me. Something terrible. But the strangest part of my life was my wolf. Or, rather, the lack of my wolf. Other omegas I know still felt their wolves, weak or not. They still felt something....like an instinct, or urges, or fear, or even hunger. But mine was silent. Or sealed? I didn't have the words for it. But deep down, I always knew there was something inside me that seemed locked away. The last time there was a full moon, my chest ached like something was trying to rip its way out of me. My heartbeat was heavy, slow, and powerful. My mother instantly pressed some herbs into my palms, and murmured some words I wasn't supposed to remember. At the end of the whole chaotic experience, mother only whispered a consolation. "You're safe. They can't find you.". I didn't know who they were, and didn't ask. Mother never said who, either. One evening, my mother arrived home earlier than usual. And she came with a letter. It had rained cats and dogs that day, and my thoughts were filled with the rumors at the local pack school. Every girl my age has been awarded an admission into the Osborne Royal Academy, with a symbol to recognize them. Even the few omegas I know, got assignments to serve at the school of elites. But I didn't, I never applied. Neither was I assigned to serve. Mine was indeed the lowest ranked omega. I had watched the rain drop on the weak window panel of our house, and got carried away with the drip that I didn't hear the door unlocked. "Mother?". I was startled out of my daydream when my mother's hand touched my shoulder. "I didn't hear you come in.". I had said. "That was because you weren't listening to your environment, Ariyah.". She had said. I blinked, and my eyes fell on the thick envelope in her outstretched hand. I shot my mother a curious glance, with my heart racing with thoughts. Today is not her pay day, is it? I thought. But the official seal on the envelope got me more curious. It was a black wax, pressed with a symbol I recognized instantly from the books I read. Osborne Royal Academy. My heart skipped a beat, and my hand shook as I reached out for the envelope, and opened it. Admittance confirmed. Mandatory attendance. Failure to appear will be considered a defiance of pack law. "No!". A short gasp escaped from my mouth. "This cannot be..". I whispered. I read the letter three times before my breath finally left my lungs. Osborne Royal Academy wasn't just a school. It was a breeding ground for future rulers of the packs in the clan. No one like me belonged there, so why send me an admission invitation? Omegas didn't get invitations, we got assignments and servitude. And that is always in silence. Not with letters. "They found you.". Mother spoke in a low tone that sounded more like fear. And her face drained color immediately. That was the first time I ever heard fear crack my mother's voice. And for a split second, silence bridged the gap between my mother and I. Then I asked. "Who are they?”. "I told you to stay small, I told you. Now, what have you done?". Mother said, instead. "I didn't do anything”.. I said, with my brows furrowed in confusion, and my throat tight. "I swear it.". I whispered. Mother closed her eyes, and sat down....rubbing her temples in that usual way that bothers me. "It is terrifying..". She whispered. "Then I won't go..". I said, and dropped the envelope on the small kitchen table. "No!'. Mother said immediately, her eyes flown open. "That will make it worse.". "Why, mother. Who are these people?". "They will make you serve them, and even try to destroy you because that is all they believe omegas to be; their toys. But.....you will go, because if you don't....it will be worse.". Mother trembled as she spoke, but she managed to hold herself together. "I don't understand you, mother. You fear my safety at the academy, yet you asked me to go. What am I missing here?. Mother didn't respond, she only took her hand to her neck and removed the neck band on her neck and put it on my neck. "This will protect you there, my child. You're better off at the battle front than here. Staying here would…. destroy you.". I saw my mother fight the tears that were threatening to storm down her eyes, yet she went on to pack my things. She packed my bag herself, folded my clothes, and slipped a small leather pouch into my hand. "Whenever you feel strange inside, remember to hold the contents of this pouch in your hands.'. I nodded, and stared straight into my mother's eyes to read her mind. But she quickly looked away. When dawn came, mother walked me to the transport gate at the end of the town. Her eyes were searching the horizon like she was expecting someone to come riding out of the bush, and she held me tight. The gate opened, and I stepped into the path beyond.... It shimmered, and led to a land far away. A land I had only read about in the books.