THE MOONBORN’S REJECTED MATE

The first thing I learned about being an Omega was that nobody expected you to dream. Dreams were for Alphas. Betas could dream too, apparently, as long as their dreams didn't become bigger than the people above them. But Omegas? We were supposed to be grateful for whatever scraps life decided to throw at us. At least, that's what I had been told since childhood. I was seventeen years old, and according to the Blackthorn Pack, that meant I was old enough to know my place. At the bottom. Always. "Alara!" I froze. A plate slipped slightly in my hands. "Yes, Mrs. Hale?" "Are you planning to stand there all morning?" I quickly shook my head. "No, ma'am." "Then move." I hurried through the enormous dining hall, keeping my eyes down as I carried breakfast toward the long table at the centre. The table was already filled with members of the pack. Alphas. Betas. Warriors. The important people. I was none of those things. I was an Omega. And Omegas didn't sit at the table. We served it. I carefully placed a plate in front of one of the warriors. "You're blocking my view." I immediately stepped aside. "Sorry." "Didn't anyone teach you how to walk?" More laughter. I bit the inside of my cheek. Don't react. That was another thing I had learned. Never react. Because the moment they discovered something could hurt you, they'd keep doing it. I moved to the next person. Then someone deliberately stretched their leg into my path. My foot caught against it. The tray tilted. A glass fell. **Crash!** Silence. I stared at the broken glass scattered across the floor. Then I heard laughter. "Oh, come on." "She's useless." "She's always breaking something." My face burned. "I'm sorry." I crouched immediately. A hand grabbed my wrist. I looked up. Serena Blackwood. The Alpha's younger sister. Of course. She smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "Don't touch it." I stopped. "You're going to clean it with your hands." My eyes widened. "Serena—" "Did I stutter?" A few people around the table laughed. My wolf stirred inside me. **Don't.** I silently begged her. **Please don't.** My wolf's name was Lyra. She wasn't exactly strong. None of us were. But sometimes I thought Lyra was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart. She growled softly inside my head. **I hate them.** I swallowed. **I know.** **Let me bite her.** Despite everything, I almost laughed. **Absolutely not.** **Just a little.** **Lyra.** She huffed. I reached for the broom instead. Serena's smile disappeared. "Did I say you could use that?" I stopped again. She leaned closer. "You're an Omega. You should know better than to forget your place." My fingers tightened around the broom. There it was. That sentence. The sentence I'd heard so many times that it had practically become part of my identity. *Know your place.* *Remember what you are.* *You're only an Omega.* I lowered my head. "Yes." Serena turned away. "Good." I cleaned the mess. Nobody helped me. Nobody ever did. --- The Blackthorn Pack was one of the largest and strongest packs in the northern territories. Our Alpha, Adrian Blackwood, was respected far beyond our borders. He was young for an Alpha. Powerful. Cold. Unforgiving. People said his wolf was terrifying. They also said he was destined to become one of the strongest Alphas of his generation. I wouldn't know. I rarely saw him. And when I did, I made sure he didn't see me. That was how things worked here. Alphas were important. Betas were useful. Omegas were tolerated. And I was somehow even lower than tolerated. I was the orphan Omega. My mother had died when I was little. My father had never been part of my life. I had no influential relatives. No powerful bloodline. No warrior abilities. No money. No position. Nothing that could make people treat me like I mattered. So the pack had given me a room in the servants' wing and work to justify my existence. I cleaned. I cooked. I carried things. I followed orders. And I stayed out of everyone's way. That was my life. At least, that was what I thought my life would always be. --- After breakfast, I spent the next three hours cleaning the Alpha's residence. It was enormous. Ridiculously enormous. There were more rooms than I could count, most of which I had never seen anyone use. I was dusting a bookshelf when I noticed a photograph sitting between two books. I stopped. It was a picture of the Alpha family. Alpha Adrian stood in the centre. His parents stood beside him. Serena was on the other side. Everyone looked happy. Powerful. Important. A real family. My fingers hovered over the photograph. I didn't touch it. I wasn't stupid. Still, something inside my chest tightened. I'd always wondered what it would feel like to belong somewhere. Not as an Omega. Not as a servant. Not as someone's responsibility. Just... **Alara.** A girl. A person. Someone worth coming home to. "You're staring at my family." I nearly jumped out of my skin. I spun around. Serena stood in the doorway. My heart hammered. "I wasn't—" "Don't lie." "I'm sorry." "You're always sorry." I lowered my eyes. She walked into the room. "Do you know what I find funny?" I remained silent. "You're seventeen now." I said nothing. "That means you'll probably have your mating ceremony soon." My stomach tightened. Every wolf dreamed about finding their mate. Even Omegas. Especially Omegas. A mate was supposed to be the one person who couldn't reject you because of your rank. The one person who would see beyond everything else. The Moon Goddess supposedly chose your mate. And the Moon Goddess didn't care whether you were an Alpha or an Omega. At least... That was what everyone said. Serena laughed. "Imagine your mate seeing you." My cheeks warmed. She looked me up and down. "Poor thing." I said nothing. "Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll be another Omega." Her friends laughed from the hallway. Serena walked closer. "Although even they might reject you." Something inside me cracked. I looked at her. For once, I didn't immediately lower my eyes. "Maybe." Her smile disappeared. I continued quietly. "Maybe he won't." Serena stared at me. I didn't know where the courage came from. Maybe I was tired. Maybe seventeen years of swallowing every insult had finally filled my throat. Or maybe I just wanted to believe that somewhere in the world there was a person who wouldn't look at me and see weakness. Serena scoffed. "Keep dreaming, Alara." She walked away. I waited until she was gone before releasing the breath I'd been holding. Lyra whispered inside my mind. **Maybe she's wrong.** I smiled faintly. **Maybe.** **Maybe our mate will be kind.** I looked back at the photograph. **Maybe he'll take us somewhere far away from here.** Lyra went quiet. Then: **Would you leave?** I thought about it. About the servants' quarters. The endless work. The insults. The loneliness. The way people looked at me. My answer came easily. **Yes.** I would. If someone gave me the chance, I would leave Blackthorn forever. --- That evening, I sat outside the servants' quarters with my knees pulled toward my chest. The sun was disappearing behind the mountains. The sky was painted orange and pink. It was the prettiest part of the day. And it was the only time I could pretend the world belonged to me. I pulled a small notebook from beneath my mattress. It was old. The pages were worn. But it was mine. On the first page, I'd written a list years ago. **Things I want before I die.** 1. See the ocean. 2. Travel outside Blackthorn territory. 3. Have my own home. 4. Eat chocolate cake without having to share it. 5. Find my mate. 6. Be loved. I stared at number six for a long time. Then I added another. 7. Become strong. I smiled. "That's impossible." Lyra immediately disagreed. **Nothing is impossible.** **We're Omegas.** **So?** I rolled my eyes. **We're literally the weakest wolf rank.** **And?** **And everyone says—** **Everyone says a lot of stupid things.** I laughed softly. Lyra was strange. She had always been strange. Sometimes I wondered if she was truly as weak as she was supposed to be. There were moments when I felt something inside her. Something enormous. Something sleeping. Whenever I tried to reach for it, however, it disappeared. Like a door slamming shut. I had asked the pack healer about it once. She'd laughed. *"Don't fill your head with nonsense, Alara. Omegas don't have hidden powers."* So I stopped asking. I closed the notebook. Tomorrow was my eighteenth birthday. That was supposed to be important. At eighteen, wolves usually experienced their first shift. And sometimes... Their mate scent appeared. I'd spent years pretending I didn't care. But tonight, my stomach was filled with nervous butterflies. What if my mate was kind? What if he didn't care that I was an Omega? What if he looked at me and didn't see weakness? I pressed my hands against my cheeks. "Stop." Lyra laughed. **You're imagining our wedding already.** **I'm not!** **You are.** **I'm absolutely not.** **What colour would your dress be?** I buried my face in my hands. "Shut up." For the first time that day, I laughed. A real laugh. Small. Quiet. But real. And for a few minutes, I allowed myself to imagine something different. A life where I wasn't hated. A life where I wasn't someone's servant. A life where someone chose me. Where I could finally belong. I didn't know it yet, but that tiny dream was about to become the most dangerous thing I had ever possessed. Because tomorrow, I would turn eighteen. Tomorrow, my wolf would finally reveal what she had been hiding. Tomorrow, the Moon Goddess would choose whether I would remain the worthless Omega everyone believed me to be... Or become something Blackthorn had never seen before. And somewhere beyond the mountains, a wolf was already waking. Waiting. Watching. For me. I just didn't know his name yet.