Rejected Omega Of The Twin Alphas

The kitchen of Moonveil Pack was a battlefield, not of claws and fangs, but of sizzling pans, clattering plates, and the sharp tongues of Omegas bustling about. The air was dense with the scent of roasting meat, caramelized onions, and warm bread. Yet beneath the surface, tension simmered—because tonight, Kyson Silver and his twin brother Xander Silver, the eldest sons of Alpha Maverick of the Bloodfang Pack, we're visiting. It was the first time Pack Moonveil was receiving someone of such high status from their rival-turned-ally, and failure was not an option. Lyra, a small-framed Omega with long, tangled black hair and wary silver eyes, stood at the farthest corner of the kitchen, watching the controlled chaos with quiet detachment. The Omegas whispered among themselves, exchanging nervous glances as they diced vegetables or stirred stews. “She should just stay out of the way,” a blonde-haired Omega muttered, cutting carrots too forcefully. “As if she’ll be of any use,” another sneered. Lyra didn’t react. She never did. She knew better. In Moonveil, she was nothing but a tolerated stray. An orphaned pup taken in by Alpha Damian, who claimed he had found her after rogues attacked her birth pack. She didn’t remember much—just flashes of fire, screams, and the scent of blood. It didn’t matter. The only thing that did was survive, and survival meant keeping her head down. “Lyra! You stupid b***h! What are you slacking off there?!” She flinched at the sharp voice of Beta Roland, the Alpha’s right hand. “Yes?” she let out, forcing her tone to be neutral. “The garbage outside needs to be taken out.” The room went silent for a moment. The other Omegas smirked. Garbage duty. The lowest task, always given to the most useless Omega. A punishment in disguise. Lyra swallowed and nodded. “Understood.” As she turned to leave, snickers followed her. “Perfect job for a little rat.” “She’s lucky Alpha Damian even lets her breathe.” Lyra didn’t react. She grabbed the heavy, reeking bags and hauled them out of the kitchen, into the cold night air. The scent of the feast being prepared was immediately overpowered by the stench of decay as she dumped the waste into the designated pit. Her arms ached, but she didn’t complain. Complaining only invited worse treatment. As she dusted off her hands, she allowed herself a moment to breathe. The night sky was endless above her, stars stretching in all directions. For a brief second, she felt like she wasn’t trapped, like she wasn’t nothing. But the illusion shattered when she heard voices—deep, confident, and close. Her heart seized. The Alphas were here. She quickly ran away before any of them could catch her. The world of Alphas and Omegas was one of hierarchy, dominance, and submission. Alphas ruled, Betas enforced, and Omegas…Omegas obeyed. Some packs treated their Omegas with respect, seeing them as valuable nurturers and caretakers. Others, like Moonveil, saw them as lesser beings, only useful for labor and breeding. Lyra’s position was even lower than a normal Omega. She had no blood ties to the pack, no standing, no protector. She was nothing more than a tolerated stray, an outsider among her own kind. The only reason she was allowed to stay was because Alpha Damian claimed a debt to her deceased family. But debts could be forgotten. And if she ever stepped out of line, she knew she would be cast out—or worse. She had seen what happened to Omegas who displeased their Alphas. The kitchen was abuzz with whispered gossip, the scent of roasting venison and honeyed bread mixing with the sharp tang of intrigue. The Omega servants moved swiftly, setting trays, filling goblets, and adjusting floral arrangements, but their hushed conversation revolved around only one topic—Kyson Silver and Xander Silver. “I heard Kyson is the most elegant and most handsome Alpha in all the territories,” Mira, a dainty Omega with soft brown curls, sighed dreamily as she kneaded dough. “Like a prince from an old story.” “Hah,” scoffed Sienna, a sharp-eyed Omega with a wicked grin. “I heard he’s ruthless. He killed an Omega maid just because she spilled wine on his clothes.” Gasps rippled through the group. “No!” Mira clutched her chest. “Really?” “Yes,” Sienna said with grim satisfaction. “Alpha Maverick raised him to be a warrior, not some storybook prince.” “But despite that, all the she-wolves dream of him,” Ivy, a red-haired Omega, chimed in. “Imagine being his mate. Just one look from him, and you’d melt.” “I’d rather have his brother,” Dahlia added with a playful wink. “Xander Silver is even hotter, and everyone says he’s more fun. Kyson is cold, but Xander? That one smirks, and skirts start flying.” The others giggled, a mix of fear and excitement in their expressions. Lyra, hunched over a pile of dirty rags, scrubbed at a grease stain on the stone floor and tried to tune them out. She had no interest in Alphas—especially not cruel, arrogant ones like Kyson and Xander. She had learned a long time ago that Alphas were dangerous. They weren’t the noble, protective figures from fairy tales. They were beasts cloaked in fine clothes and smooth voices, taking whatever they wanted without a second thought. Her stepmother, Vivian, had told her over and over: “You’re an orphan. You have no claim, no protection. You should be grateful you’re even allowed to stay.” Lyra had taken those words to heart. Alphas took everything. They were destroyers, not saviors. Still… She exhaled and scrubbed harder. There was a small part of her—hidden so deep inside it was barely a whisper—that longed for something different. A mate, not an Alpha or a Beta, just…someone who would love her. Who would see her, not as a burden, not as a stray, but as his. Someone who would hold her in the dark and whisper, “You are enough.” But dreams were dangerous, so she shoved them aside. The door swung open with a bang. All the Omegas scattered like startled birds, rushing back to their tasks as Vivian swept in, her long dark gown trailing behind her. Lyra barely had time to rise before the woman’s sharp, disapproving gaze landed on her. “Lyra,” Vivian snapped, her tone icy. “Why are you still here? The Alpha and his guests will be arriving soon, and you’re still filthy. Have you done nothing?” Lyra swallowed down the instant protest rising in her throat. She had been working since dawn, scrubbing, polishing, hauling garbage— But arguing never helped. “I’m almost done,” she said quietly. “‘Almost’ isn’t good enough,” Vivian hissed, stepping closer. “If you ruin this banquet with your incompetence, do you think Alpha Damian will keep tolerating you?” The words stung but Lyra had heard worse. Vivian gave a dismissive flick of her fingers, then turned to the other Omegas. “Since she’s so lazy, I have another job for her.” Lyra tensed at that. “You’ll serve Kyson and Xander Silver during the banquet.” The kitchen went silent. The Omegas gawked at her. “Her?” Sienna blurted out before she could stop herself. Even Lily, Lyra’s only friend, paled in horror. “She—she can’t,” Lily stammered. “That’s too dangerous. They’re Alphas, they—” Vivian turned on her with a sharp smile. “Would you like to take her place, then?” Lily opened her mouth, then closed it. She was trembling. Because Vivian wasn’t wrong. Omegas like them weren’t supposed to be near powerful Alphas, especially ones like Kyson Silver. A single misstep, a single wrong look, and an Alpha’s wrath could destroy them. An Alpha’s presence alone was suffocating. The thought of those Alpha’s eyes—those cold, calculating predator’s eyes—on her made Lyra’s stomach twist. She wanted to refuse. She wanted to run. But she already knew what would happen if she did. Vivian would find another punishment—one far worse than simply standing in a hall with a tray. She had been through this before. The only way out was through. So Lyra straightened, lifted her chin, and said, “I’ll do it.” The Omegas stared at her like she had lost her mind. Vivian smiled, satisfied. “Good.” But Lyra knew, as she turned back to scrubbing the floor, that she had just made a mistake. A terrible mistake. Because soon, she would be in a room with Kyson and Xander Silver. And she had a feeling that this night would change everything. A sharp knock at the kitchen door made the Omegas freeze. Vivian turned toward the sound, smoothing her dark gown before the door creaked open. A male servant stepped inside, bowing slightly. "The guests have arrived," he announced. Lyra’s stomach twisted. Vivian smirked and turned to her. “Well, you’d best hurry. We wouldn’t want you to keep the Alphas waiting.” Then she swept out, her dress trailing behind her like a shadow. As soon as the door shut, Lily grabbed Lyra’s wrist, her fingers trembling. “Don’t go,” she whispered, voice breaking. Lyra flinched. Lily had always been the stronger one—always smiling, always shielding her from the worst of the pack’s cruelty. But now, her best friend’s green eyes were filled with terror. “She’s going to use this as an excuse to get rid of you,” Lily said. “You’ll mess up—she’ll say you embarrassed the pack, and Alpha Damian won’t hesitate to kick you out.” Lyra’s throat tightened. She already knew that. And if that happened, she wouldn’t survive out there alone. She had no allies, no pack ties, no one to claim her. Even rogues had a better chance than a cast-out Omega. But that wasn’t the worst part. Lily’s voice dropped lower, shaking. “Or those twin brothers will kill you.” The words sent ice through Lyra’s veins. The cruel Alpha princes who had allegedly ended an Omega’s life over spilled wine. The sons of Alpha Maverick, the heir of the most feared pack in the region—Bloodfang. And Lyra, an insignificant nobody, was expected to serve them. She could already feel it—the Alpha aura pressing against the edges of her consciousness. It seeped through the very walls, thick like a storm, suffocating and heavy. And they weren't even in the room yet. What would it be like when she was standing in front of them? Panic clawed up her throat. Her heart pounded so violently she thought it might burst through her ribcage. She wasn’t ready. She would never be ready. “I have to go,” she said, forcing the words out. Lily’s grip tightened. “Please.” Lyra reached up, brushing a tear from her friend’s cheek with a shaking thumb. “I’ll be careful,” she promised. “I’ll keep my head down. I’ll be invisible.” She gently pulled away, grabbed a tray from the counter, and followed the other Omega servants out of the kitchen. The corridor leading to the Grand Hall stretched before them like the path to a slaughterhouse. Lit by flickering torches, the carved stone walls felt too tight, the air too thin. Lyra’s fingers curled around the silver tray she carried, her knuckles turning white. She could barely breathe. The Omegas in front of her whispered to each other in nervous, excited voices. “They're here.” “I saw him through the window—Kyson is even more gorgeous than the rumors said.” “But terrifying,” another murmured. “When he walked past, it felt like my legs would give out. His aura is insane.” Lyra didn’t want to hear this. She already felt it—a cold, suffocating force pressing against her skin like an unseen hand. It made her breath shallow, her muscles tense. She had heard Alphas had powerful auras, but this… This was unnatural. Her knees felt weak. She swallowed hard, keeping her head down as they approached the massive wooden doors leading to the banquet hall. The ornate carvings of Moonveil’s crest—their wolf sigil—gleamed under the firelight. Beyond those doors, Alphas sat like kings, waiting. Waiting to be served. Waiting to judge. Waiting for an excuse to destroy an Omega like her. A shudder wracked through her. Every instinct inside her screamed run. But she couldn’t. Because Lyra was nothing. She was an orphan, a stray, a ghost in her own pack. And ghosts had no choices. As the doors began to open with a low, eerie creak, her breath hitched. ‘Goddess, help me.’ She stepped forward.