Chapter 3 Uncomfortable 2

He met my mother on a hunt when they were both only eighteen years old. She was from a neighboring pack when he caught her scent across the border. Many moons later, they were mated and expecting their first child; my older brother George.

George was a twenty-one-year-old brunette, much like my father, with the same deep chocolate eyes. I joined the family when I was four, and he was five, and the close age gap between me and George meant we had a good bond.

My parents were omegas, but they enjoyed the graft. My mother was always in the kitchen as one of the head chefs and my father was often out on patrols. Our pack did not discriminate against omega wolves, but we were not as privileged as the in-between and higher-ranking wolves. George had gained a warrior status at only nineteen-years-old and traveled to another pack to 'help' but I think it was really in search of his mate. He dreams he'll make it as a gamma, a third in command, even though it wasn't in his blood.

Mates were getting harder to find as females seemed to dwindle in numbers around here. Especially since higher-ranked wolves usually had male offspring. It was easier for those in higher ranks to find mates, as our Moon Goddess made sure packs were running strong. Wolves like me take longer to find them, often having to marry on. And females could not travel, as it meant they could leave the pack. Since we were dwindling in numbers of one in five, most packs didn't want to lose us. Absolute crap if you ask me.

Anyway, thousands of years of history have led to a population like this. This contributed to a lot of wolves finding their mates in other species or genders or some not at all, like I said.

The pack life could be sexist. They expected women to go around cooking, cleaning, etcetera and wait for the day a mate shows up and sweeps us off our feet. The thought made me sick. I don't see how a mate could be so welcoming, particularly when people who are supposed to be my pack family were so hate-fuelled.

To me, it felt as though women were mere possessions. A man could not be an alpha without a mate, after all. Male wolves with mates gain more respect than those without, making me feel like women are objects of power. Hence, why George had gone on his search and I had not. He had left home just over two years ago. Last I heard, he was in a pack south of here, helping them protect themselves from rogue wolves.

Without realizing, I ended my drawing. Putting down the pencil, I studied what I had created.

When drawing, I went into a trance-like state and time passed around me too quickly. Today, I had drawn a vibrant forest, with a huge black wolf lurking beyond the tree line, its eyes as black as the night. It was intriguing; I had drawn a wolf I had never seen before, yet he seemed so familiar.

Humming to myself, I placed it in my sketch folder, under this week's date. I drew a new picture every week on my day off. Last week was also a picture of a forest, but it had a small river and waterfall that poured into a lake.

Glancing at the clock, I sighed as I realized dinner was just finishing. Most wolves ate and finished by six and it was ten past now.

Sorting out my mess of a hairdo, I quietly made my way out of my room.

The packhouse was like a hotel. Four floors containing over three hundred en-suite rooms. The omegas were lower level with small necessary single or double rooms. Middle wolves filled up the second and third floors with many spare for the future. And the forty higher-ranking wolves, warriors and families were on the top floor in larger rooms. The Alpha has his own room and floor with a kitchen/lounge that was secured and private on the top floor, only accessible by fingerprint. It was the norm for a lot of packs.

As I approached the dining room, I heard voices. Wishing I had a wolf's sense of smell to work out who it was, I settled for my hearing. They sounded agitated, whoever it was. I stepped closer, trying to control my breathing so that they wouldn't hear me. I hoped they couldn't smell me because of their agitation.

"Harry!" Ruth's whining voice met my ears.

Ah, my wonderful tormentor...

"Not now!" Harry growled. "I need to think before that bastard of a pack comes here!"

"Baby, you're worked up. Why don't you sit and have a drink? Tell me what's going on." She cooed.

He must've complied as the sound of a glass hitting the table empty crackled through the air. "The Blood Moon pack is coming to 's party."

I froze in my steps; Audrey's party was tomorrow. And I had heard of that pack name before. Why did it seem so familiar? My curiosity increased, and I stepped closer in confidence.

"What!" she squealed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"He works with the king. I've been told they're doing this random traveling crap to make sure packs are running as they should." He huffed. "I'm going to my office to arrange the staff."

His footsteps sounded through the air and I chewed on my lip, keeping myself square against the wall as he walked straight past me. I watched him turn left. His face was hard in concentration as we made eye contact and I sucked in my breath. His cool brown eyes merely blinked before glancing behind him as he disappeared, his hand grabbing at his light brown hair.

Exhaling loudly, I ran my hand across my arm in comfort and pulled away from the wall. Just as I did, I felt sharp claws rip into my scalp as they yanked my head backwards.

"Were you just listening to my conversation there, sweetie?" Ruth pouted. "That's quite rude."

"N-n-no, I-I wasn't-

"Oh, hush, no use lying to me, sweetie. I could smell your nasty perfume a mile away." She laughed.

Her other hand pulled out some gum from her pocket, and she released her hold on my hair to unwrap it. I quivered slightly when I noticed her 'gang' approach from the dining room.

Ruth sighed in contentment, smacking the gum in her mouth before pulling my hair from under her nail. "Now, eavesdropping is definitely a no-no thing okay, sweetie? I'm sure you understand, after all."

I whimpered and wrapped my arms around myself as she went to walk away. Her two girlfriends came up to me next, both smirking from ear to ear. They both had brunette hair and brown eyes. The only difference was Freya's hair was always curly and her makeup was dark to complement her olive skin tone.

Without time to think, Freya swiped my head to the side as she smacked me across the cheek. I felt my spit fly out of my mouth as I staggered. Another hit my face, and I was against the wall, where my heart raced as their claws dug into my skin. I tried to push them off, but their wolves helped somewhat and I was defenseless.

There was a pause, and I took a moment to regulate my breathing as the sound of their designer heels clicked away. Daring to open my eyes, I soon forced them to shut as a larger, warmer hand pushed me down.

"Don't go poking around in everybody's business, Omega. Learn your place." The guy spat.

I nodded frantically, tears pooling in my eyes. I curled in on myself. My rare appetite was now vanished as I cried in pain. I didn't heal like the wolves; didn't block out pain as they did either. I felt it all and it will show for weeks to come.

I sat there for another ten minutes before frantic footsteps running down the halls startled me. Quickly pulling myself up, I ran into my bedroom. Slumping into my sheets, I let the tears flow, crying myself into slumber.

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