As Theresa lay in her tiny, chilly room, surrounded by the customary quiet that always greeted the day, her mind raced. Outside her door, she could hear the soft shuffle of feet on the stone floor, the low murmur of voices, and the quiet sounds of other omegas preparing for the day. The morning chill pricked her skin as she pushed off her thin blanket. Only a small amount of light, barely enough to see by, came in through the window above her bed.
Today was her eighteenth birthday.
It didn't really matter.
Omegas had no birthday celebrations. There were no parties, no presents, and, most importantly, no one wanted to wish her a happy birthday. It was another day, as far as she could tell. It was a day she would likely prefer to forget.
She hurriedly changed into her go-to black dress. It represented her position in the pack and was simple and unremarkable. Despite their weariness and frayed laces, her boots would suffice. Nerves and the harsh reality of what was to come made her hands shake as she tied them.
Tradition dictated that she would find her mate today. However, she was already aware of that. It wasn't like anyone would match her with a high-status individual. Someone like Raffaele or Simon, two other omegas with similar fates, would be her match. There would be no change.
Theresa was not excited about the pairing. She didn't think it would be beneficial. Being an omega meant she would endure humiliation and servitude for the rest of her life. Particularly, the higher ranks showed no concern for omegas.
She walked out of her room and toward the kitchen down the hall. The spacious stone room was bustling with activity as other omegas frantically prepared breakfast for the pack. Keeping her head down and moving quickly, Theresa picked up a knife and began chopping fruit. The kitchen was always the same: busy, boisterous, and energetic, but oddly empty for someone like her.
"Move faster, you useless omega," a piercing voice said over the din.
Without having to look, Theresa recognized the voice and recoiled. The future Luna of the pack is Livia, the daughter of the Beta. Livia's distaste for Theresa had always been obvious.
Trying not to react, Theresa lowered her head. She muttered, "Yes, Livia," already sensing the sting of Livia's disapproving stare.
With a cunning grin on her lips, Livia took a step closer. She extended her hand to Theresa's desk and took an apple slice. She bit into it slowly and deliberately while keeping her gaze fixed on Theresa's face.
With a sly smile, Livia remarked, "You look worse than usual today." "Are you trying to cover up that ugly face of yours?"
Theresa felt a sinking sensation in her heart. Such behavior was nothing new to her. With Livia, she was unable to defend herself.
Theresa responded, "I'm just working," maintaining a steady tone of voice in spite of her chest tremor.
Livia laughed icily. "You are, of course, right. You're only good at that." She took a step forward, her tone shifting to one of mocking sympathy. "I almost feel bad for the person who chooses to be your partner. Imagine seeing their face every morning when you wake up. It's truly a terrifying experience.
Theresa's face did not display the pain as her chest tightened. She had grown accustomed to the taunts and had long since learned to disregard them. Livia was enjoying herself, and Theresa knew better than to challenge her.
As Livia turned to go, her smile widened. "Be quick. The triplets anticipate perfection and will arrive soon. She walked away with a sneer, obviously pleased with how she had left Theresa feeling.
The triplets.
Future Alphas Ronan, Luca, and Megal. No one questioned their authority, as they held a firm grip on power. They had always treated Theresa like trash, and she had known them all her life. They merely treated her as a servant, degrading her for their amusement.
When the dining hall doors opened and a familiar figure entered the room, the kitchen grew quiet. The triplets were here.
Theresa knew they were there without having to look. The room seemed to shrink in their presence, and their energy demanded attention. She remained focused on her work, keeping her head down. It's possible that they wouldn't notice her today.
Theresa's stomach fell when Luca's smooth, mocking voice rang out, "Well, well."
Theresa felt her heart race as Luca grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. She stumbled, the knife slipping from her hands and clattering against the counter.
Luca's hold became more firm, and he grinned down at her with that grin that always made her shiver. "Are we quiet today? Little Omega, don't insult us?"
She shook her head hastily. "No, Alpha," she muttered, barely raising her voice above a breath.
Luca let out a low, ruthless laugh. He gave her a little shove back, just enough to make her stumble. He said, "Good girl," in a mocking tone. "That's the better option. We would prefer not to have to remind you of your proper place.
Every omega in the kitchen was frozen, watching, waiting, and the room was motionless. Nobody was brave enough to speak.
With his arms folded and his eyes icy, Ronan stood distantly. His voice was flat as he said, "Be careful with the food." "We don't want it ruined by your filthy hands."
Theresa refused to look him in the eyes, even though her cheeks were burning.
From behind them, Livia, who had trailed them into the room, laughed. "She's lucky to even be allowed near your food," she said, leaning in close to Ronan and speaking in a sweet, sugary voice.
Once more, Kieran's voice broke the stillness with a light yet ominous tone. Perhaps we ought to let her try it first. Verify that it isn't poisoned.
Theresa remained motionless despite her fists clenching at her sides. She was too familiar with this game.
Megal stood silently in the rear, watching the scene with unreadable, icy eyes. Then he grinned as though he had decided to join in. "All right, Omega. Have a bite.
Like a challenge, the words lingered in the air. Theresa's hands trembled a little as she reached for the closest plate despite her heart thumping painfully in her chest. In an attempt to calm herself, she picked up a piece of toast. She slowly lifted it to her lips, aware of their stares.