They named me Luna. I always thought that was the Moon Goddess's first joke at my expense. Luna. The name of the Alpha's mate. The name of a queen. The name of a wolf who commands respect and fear and loyalty. And I am an Omega who scrubs floors. The cold water hit my face like a slap this morning just like every morning. I gasped stumbling backward my hands flying to the sink to steady myself. The mirror showed a girl I barely recognized anymore. Hollow cheeks. Dark circles under eyes that used to be bright. Hair that had once been thick and glossy now hung limp and lifeless from being tied back so many years. I looked like what I was. Nothing. The packhouse was quiet at 4am. The Alphas and Betas and Deltas sleeping in their warm beds dreaming about territory and mates and important wolf things. The Omegas awake because someone has to scrub before breakfast or the pack might step in dirt and that would be a tragedy. I tied my hair with a scrap of cloth that had once been white but was now gray from years of use. My fingers were already cracked and bleeding from yesterday's work but I didn't look at them. Looking made it hurt more. I picked up my bucket and my brush and I walked to the main hall.
The main hall floors stretch forever. I know because I have scrubbed them every day for eight years. Polished wood that shows every speck of dust every footprint every sign that someone important walked here. On my knees with a brush that makes my fingers bleed. My back screams after the first hour but I learned long ago that stopping means punishment and punishment means more work not less. I started at the far end near the fireplace that never gets used because the Alpha prefers the east wing. I dipped my brush in the soapy water and I scrubbed. The wood grain emerged clean and dark beneath my hands. Satisfying for a moment before I remembered that tomorrow it would be dirty again and I would be here again and nothing would ever change.
By sunrise I was half done. My knees were numb. My shoulders burned. But I kept going because that's what I do. That's what I've always done. The first footsteps came from the east wing. Heavy. Deliberate. Alpha Marcus going for his morning run. He walks the same path every day at the same time. I know his schedule better than anyone because I have to know when to be invisible. He walked past without looking at me. I was furniture. Something to walk around. I prefer that honestly. Being ignored hurts less than being seen. Being seen means being noticed and being noticed means Claire finds out and Claire finding out means pain.
Then I heard her voice.
Is she still out there.
Claire.
I kept scrubbing. Maybe if I didn't look up she would get bored and leave. She never gets bored. Not with me.
Well look at that. Her boots appeared in my vision. Expensive leather. She likes to wear them when she knows I'm scrubbing so I can see how close she gets. The Omega is still on her knees. How appropriate.
I said nothing. Claire is a Delta. Three ranks above me. Her father is Gamma. Her mother comes from Betas. She has silver hair and blue eyes and a smile that makes me want to disappear into the floorboards. She has been cruel to me since we were children. When we were pups she pulled my hair and called me names. Now she is grown and she has power and she uses it the way wolves use their teeth. On the weak.
She stopped beside me her boots inches from my hand. The Omega Luna should be used to this position she said. On her knees. Scrubbing. Where she belongs. Her friend Emily giggled behind her. I focused on a spot near the chair leg. Pressed harder with my rag. The wood was already clean but I scrubbed anyway because if I stopped she would find another reason to hurt me.
Do you even understand how pathetic you are Claire continued. Twenty two years old. Never shifted. Can't hold a job. Can't keep a mate. The pack keeps you around out of pity. Nothing else.
My hands stilled for a moment. Just a moment. Then I kept scrubbing. She crouched down beside me her voice dropping to a whisper. Do you know why you haven't shifted Luna. Why you're still stuck in this weak useless body. I didn't answer. Because the Moon Goddess saw you and decided you weren't worthy. She grabbed my chin. Her fingers dug in. She looked at all the wolves in the world and when she got to you she said no. This one doesn't deserve a wolf. This one doesn't deserve a mate. This one doesn't deserve anything.
I stared at her. Something in my chest tightened. But I've had twenty two years to learn how to swallow pain. Is that all I said. Her smile flickered for just a second. She expected me to cry maybe. To beg. I stopped doing that years ago. It only made her worse. She stood and brushed her hands off like I had dirt on me. Clean the west wing when you're done here. My mother is hosting the Luna Circle tomorrow and the floors need to shine. The west wing is three times the size of this hall. It would take me until midnight. She walked away and I went back to scrubbing.
The morning passed. Then the afternoon. I moved from the main hall to the kitchen to the dining room. I scrubbed until my fingers bled. I washed until my arms shook. I didn't eat. Omegas eat when the pack is done and the pack is never done. I smelled the food cooking. Roasted meat and fresh bread and something sweet I couldn't name. My stomach cramped so hard I had to stop for a moment. But I didn't eat. I never eat.
By evening I was in the west wing on my hands and knees. The windows showed the sun setting over the mountains. Orange and pink and gold. Beautiful maybe. I don't remember how to see beauty anymore. My mother used to take me to watch the sunset when I was small. She would hold me on her lap and point at the colors and tell me the Moon Goddess painted the sky just for us. She died when I was seven. After that no one held me. No one pointed at the sky. I stopped looking up.
My stomach cramped. My throat was dry. My knees went numb hours ago. But I kept moving because stopping means starting over and starting over means another day of this and another day of this is all I have. The corridor ended finally. I sat back on my heels and looked at what I had done. The floors gleamed. The wood grain caught the fading light and for a moment I let myself feel something like satisfaction. It didn't last.
Then I heard the howl.
From the training grounds. A long low sound that vibrated through my chest and settled in my bones. The pack gathering for the evening run. They would shift and hunt and run under the moon. I would stay here scrubbing floors that would be dirty again tomorrow. I pushed myself up. My legs screamed. My back locked. I thought I might fall but I didn't. I walked to the window and looked out at the training grounds.
Dozens of wolves around the fire pit. Alpha Marcus at the center. Tall. Broad. Hair like charcoal. He doesn't torment Omegas. He just doesn't see us. Beside him the Beta and Gamma and others. I saw Claire laughing with her friends her silver hair catching the firelight like a crown. I looked away. I was about to turn from the window when something made me stop. A figure at the edge of the training grounds. Separate from the others.
He was tall. Taller than Marcus. Broad shoulders. Dark hair falling across his forehead. He stood with his back to the fire so I couldn't see his face. But I saw how the other wolves moved around him. Giving him space. Alpha Marcus looking at him with something I couldn't name. Respect maybe. Or wariness. I had never seen him before. I know every wolf in this pack. Every face. Every name. Every rank. I have to. It's how I survive. Knowing who to avoid. Who to hide from. Who might throw a bone my way if I'm lucky. But this one was a stranger.
He turned.
Even from this distance I felt it. The mate bond slammed into me like a truck. I couldn't breathe. My hands grabbed the windowsill so hard the wood bit into my palms. My wolf the part of me that had never surfaced the part they said was dead or missing or cursed lifted her head for the first time in my life and she howled inside me. Mate. The word ripped through my chest. My knees buckled. I held onto the window with everything I had. Mate. He was my mate. The stranger. The one no one had told me about. The one I had never dreamed of because I stopped dreaming years ago.
My wolf surged again. Desperate. Begging to be free. And for one moment I felt her. Her power. Her strength. Her need to reach him to claim him to finally be whole. Then she was gone. The fire went out. The bond faded. I slumped against the wall gasping for breath my body shaking so bad I thought I might break apart. When I looked again the stranger was gone. The training grounds were empty. The fire still burned but the wolves had shifted and run and I was alone.
I stood there for a long time. The moon rose full and silver. The night grew cold. I stood with my knees bleeding and my hands shaking and my heart pounding with something I thought was dead in me. Hope. I know hope is dangerous. Hope killed more Omegas than hunger or cold or Claire's cruelty. Hope is what makes you believe maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe the Moon Goddess didn't curse you. Maybe somewhere there is someone who will look at you and see something worth keeping. Hope is a knife. Holding it means bleeding. But I held it anyway. I held it and I looked at the moon and I whispered to no one. I'm ready. I'm ready to be seen.