Chapter 4: A Work Day - Sorrell

I race home as fast as I can and fly up the stairs to jump in the shower. My stomach is snarling, demanding its daily offerings, but I just don’t have time to eat right now. That stupid Alpha distracted me, and I lost track of time. I should have been back sooner than this, and now I’m going to be late to work at the packhouse.

Since I’m an Omega my prospects are painfully limited. I work two jobs just to earn an income. I’ve been working part-time as packhouse staff for the last few months, and I work as my mum’s assistant part-time at the gym she works at. She’s one of the most popular aerobics instructors in town, and yeah, there are a fair few men who show up to get front row seats to the hot instructor, but as long as they don’t flirt or touch they’re safe. The day they cross that line, my dad will be out for blood, and no one will find the bodies. Mostly because I’ll have helped him bury them. What? I’m not cool with some perverts checking out my mum and drooling all over her. As far as they’re concerned she’s a married woman. Well, not in the human way, but she does wear a ring on her wedding finger just so the human guys get the message. Amazing how many of them have selective eyesight.

Once I’m showered and dressed I race back downstairs hoping to grab an apple to shove in my mouth like a pig on a roast, but instead, I’m blocked by my parents making out in the kitchen doorway. Look, any other day I’d whistle or applaud or something silly, but today, they’re blocking me and slowing me down. They have a bedroom, why not use it?

I clear my throat, “Move it or lose it, I’m a wolf in a hurry,” I announce, cutting in between them and grabbing a juicy red apple out of the bowl on the kitchen table.

“What is with you being late today?” My dad grumbles, using my mum as a human shield so I won’t notice the tent he’s sporting in his jeans. Too late.

“How was training?” My mum asks, still a little flustered from her make-out session.

When it comes to looks, I mostly take after my mum. I have her long blonde hair, her defined lips, and chestnut eyes. From my dad, I got my creamy white skin and pointed nose and chin. I think I got the best of both of them, well… maybe not the best parts of my dad. I sigh internally.

'Don’t go there. I know it’s hard, but you won’t feel sad about it forever, I promise,' Alma consoles me, nuzzling me in my mind. If it weren’t for her I’d be depressed as hell over not being able to shift, but she’s right, I shouldn’t go there.

“Training was… interesting.” I’m hardly going to tell them I got busted by the Alpha and got captivated by his eyes and overwhelming physique. Even thinking it makes me feel dirty.

“Why interesting?” Asks my mum suspiciously. Ugh, why does she always see through me? Damn mums, they’re all like bloodhounds.

“You know, I would love to answer but I have to get to work and I’m sure dad wants to resume making out, so… see ya!” I yell as I run out the door, but not before catching my dad’s face turn beet red and my mum hunched over laughing.

I race at my top speed taking a shortcut through the woods while munching on my apple, which probably isn’t great for digestion. I’ll be sure to make a big plate of food once I’m on break. Cutting through the woods and crossing the training field I enter the packhouse through the backdoor and make a b-line right for the kitchens. The other staff are already hard at work making the food for when everyone comes in from training.

“Where have you been? You’re ten minutes late,” says my best friend Reese, in surprise.

“I’m hearing that a lot today,” I grumble, grabbing an apron and putting it on, “What can I do?”

“We’ve got the cooking covered, so you can help set up the dining hall and start taking the food out,” she instructs while taking food out of the oven.

“Consider it done,” I say with a mock salute as I grab the tray of cutlery and start moving them to a cart along with plates.

This kitchen is in serious need of an update. Most of the equipment is ten years old or older, and there are so many new and better gadgets on the market that would make our job easier, but Alpha Ian never felt it was worth putting in the budget. Maybe I can appeal to Alpha Alden, he seemed like he genuinely cares about the people in this pack. Maybe he’d like to know we can do our job more efficiently and feed the warriors better if we have up-to-date equipment. Also, I hope one of the ranked females does something to redecorate the kitchen soon because it looks like a nasty 60s acid trip in here. Very psychedelic and not in a good way, but that’s the look Luna Monica seemed to love, so we just have to live with it assaulting our eyeballs.

Luna Monica still runs most of the packhouse since Alpha Alden hasn’t found his animai yet and there’s no one else to really cover the job. She’s a really nice lady, never says a harsh word, and despite what a dick her animai is, she never looks down on the staff, but she is pretty submissive to him, which is really sad. I wish she had more of a backbone with that dickweed, but I’m not going to judge her.

I push the tray through the double doors and out to the dining hall and start piling the plates on the buffet table. The sun is shining brightly through the glass windows of the dining hall making it feel warm and inviting. This is my favourite room in the packhouse. Direct sunlight, beautiful view of the woods; can even open up all the glass doors and make the space feel open, and it’s just as beautiful at night too. Sadly, most of the pack doesn’t get to see it. Only ranked members and pack warriors get to eat in the dining hall – something else I hate about this pack. It’s called a ‘packhouse’, pack being the keyword. The entire pack should be welcome to eat together, you know? Like a frigging pack. Have I mentioned I really don’t like Alpha Ian?

Once I’m done setting up the buffet table, I head back to the kitchen and start helping some of the others carry out the trays of food. I’m drowning in the scent of delectable food and it’s making my stomach snarl like an angry beast.

'If you had managed to be on time today, you could have eaten before coming to the packhouse,' Alma points out.

'I wouldn’t have been late if that stupid Alpha hadn’t distracted me,' I bite back.

'Don’t blame the Alpha, you’re the one who began the whole day late because you couldn’t find a simple shoe,' she snorts, 'And Alpha Alden had every right to question why you were in the woods, if anything, I think you liked being alone in the woods with him. You certainly enjoyed the view,' she teases.

'That’s enough from the peanut gallery, thank you very much,' I huff, as Alma breaks into laughter. She can be such a pain sometimes, but I still love her to death.

I line up the serving trays and make sure they’re properly covered when Reese comes up behind me with another tray.

“So, how was you know what, this morning?” She asks, secretively. Reese Brooke is one of my oldest and dearest friends. She’s seventeen – just like me – 5’5” with beautiful soft brown wavey hair that reaches just past her shoulders, deep chocolate brown eyes, latte skin, slender but toned body, a nose that’s even more pointed than mine, perfect cheekbones, and a well-defined jaw. You can see some of her Mexican heritage in her features, which she got from her mother. Oh, and like me, of course, she’s an Omega.

“It was alright. It got interrupted.”

She grabs my arm in alarm, “Were you caught?” She asks with wide eyes.

“Kind of,” I answer, walking back towards the kitchen.

She catches up with ease, “What do you mean ‘kind of’? What happened?”

'Alpha Alden found me and questioned me about why I was training in the woods,' I tell her through the pack-link, so no one can overhear us.

She gasps, 'Did he punish you? Is he going to make you scrub the packhouse? Throw you in a cell?! Kick you out of the pack?!' She cries, the alarm and paranoia rising with each question. I absolutely adore this girl, couldn’t ask for a better friend, but she tends to be very dramatic and jumps to conclusions a lot, but it’s just part of her quirk.

'None of the above. Why would he kick me out of the pack for that?' I ask in confusion.

She shrugs, 'Omegas breaking the rules doesn’t usually go over well.'

'Alpha Ian may have been a royal douche-canoe but even he never went that far, and Alpha Alden is nothing like his father. He was actually really nice,' I tell her, feeling oddly protective of my new Alpha.

Reese stares at me in surprise, 'Do you have a thing for the Alpha?' She asks, slyly.

I almost choke on my spit while Alma sniggers away in my head, 'Excuse me?! I wouldn’t have a thing for him if he was the last Alpha on earth,' I say in irritation.

Reese smirks, crossing her arms over her chest, “I think you do.”

“And I think you’re a couple sandwiches short of a picnic.”

“Huh?” She asks in confusion, her arms dropping to her side.

“The elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top.”

“What?” She asks, becoming more confused.

“You know? Your antenna doesn’t pick up all the channels,” I explain.

“What’s wrong with my antenna?” She asks, scratching her head.

I laugh shaking my head and wrap my arm around her, “I’m saying, you’re not all there in the head, my dear,” I say, tapping her temple.

“Oh… well why didn’t you just say that?” She huffs, walking over to the dishes, leaving me chortling to myself.

“Ugh, what is that awful sound? It’s like someone strangled a bird,” comes the current bane of my existence. Romona Mathers, the current Beta Female and mega-bitch.

“It’s called laughing, a concept I’m sure you’re not familiar with. You probably don’t want to risk the laugh lines,” I say, crossing my arms.

Romona is a new addition to the pack, having found her animai just a few months ago. What the Goddess was thinking when she paired them together I have no idea. Lark Mathers, from what I’ve seen, is actually really nice, but his animai is a nightmare. Romona is 20 – same age as Lark – has long black, straight as a pin hair, hazel eyes, round-ish face, full lips, full nose, is 5’7” with soft olive skin and two giant airbags on her chest. I assume she uses them to distract Lark, because how else does he not see how horrible she is to everyone? He’s all wally wally, blood and dolly over her. I don’t know how she gets away with it, aside from having a rank. She’s also the only ranked female currently, as all the other ranked men haven’t found their animai’s yet. I get the feeling that Romona won’t play well with others.

“I’m sorry, did I just hear a filthy Omega talk back to me?” She says in disgust.

“If you’re unsure, maybe you should get your hearing checked. A wolf with bad hearing…” I suck in air through my teeth, “That would suck.”

“Not as much as it would suck to be a wolf who can’t shift,” she says with a malicious, smug smirk. Okay, that one stung.

'What I wouldn’t give to shift and take a big bite out of her neck,' Alma growls threateningly. That makes two of us.

“If you’re done with your disobedience, bring food up to the Beta suite, my animai and I will be eating in,” she says, flipping her hair.

“Sure. If you say please,” I say, not budging. The entire kitchen goes deadly quiet, except for the thumping hearts of some very anxious Omegas.

“Excuse you?” She says through gritted teeth.

“I’ll have food brought up, if you say ‘please’, it’s called manners, you should try it,” I say, casually, as I stare her down.

“You must have a death wish,” she says, stepping closer to me, “Learn. Your. Place. I’m a Beta, you’re an Omega. I’m a ranked wolf, you’re nothing. You’re less than nothing. You could be killed by curs, and no one would mourn your death,” she says, right in my face. I don’t know if I’ve made this clear, but I hate this woman. I’m so sick of her and her disrespectful, elitist bullshit. I’m telling you; I will nurture my grudge against this woman like it was my firstborn.

I’m unable to hold back my laughter at her insult though. She’s all bark and no bite, I could take her easily.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe no one would mourn my death, but that’s better than having them celebrate it, which I think they might in your case,” I say, gleefully.

“Why you insolent little…” her hazel eyes glow brightly as she raises her hand. My eyes glow in return as I prepare myself to teach this bitch a lesson, but before I am granted the satisfaction, a large, oversized arm the colour of expensive brown leather has grabbed her wrist, stopping her hand from connecting with my face.

“Don’t you even fucking dare lay a hand on her, Romona,” growls Gamma Roland, his eyes glowing like a black abyss.

“Did you hear the way she was speaking to me?!” She shrieks, almost blowing out my eardrums. What a whiney bitch.

“Yeah, and I heard the way you were speaking to her. All she asked is that you use some fucking manners, but that was too much for you,” he spits.

“She’s a servant! I don’t need to show her shit,” she snaps, yanking her arm back and rubbing her wrist. I guess his grip was pretty firm.

“She’s not a fucking slave, Romona, none of them are. You’re their Beta, you’re meant to serve them, not the other way around,” he says, disgust clear in his voice at her behaviour.

“You’re all pathetic,” she says, tossing her hair and storming off.

“I had that under control you know,” I say, indignantly.

“Oh, I could tell,” he says, looking down, smirking. “I was enjoying the show, but I wasn’t going to stand back and let her hit you.”

“What makes you think I’m unable to defend myself?” I quirk my eyebrow at him.

He blinks back surprise just as his smirk grows, “That’s fair. I made an assumption. For all I know maybe you could have taken her, it’s not like she ever bothers to come to training…”

“Too worried about her nails,” we both say simultaneously and look at each other in surprise before bursting into laughter.

“We haven’t officially met, I’m Gamma Roland Grey,” he says, offering his hand.

“Sorrell Deslandes,” I introduce myself, shaking his hand.

“Wait, you’re Edward’s girl?” He asks in shock.

“That would be me.”

“Well, shit. In that case, I should have totally let you go a few rounds with her,” he laughs, rubbing the top of his head, “Your dad has told me you’ve got some impressive skills, he just never…” his face slips into a frown.

“Never told you I’m an Omega? Probably didn’t want you judging me based on that.”

“Hey, I don’t judge people like that. It wasn’t too long ago some packs were just as racist as humans. I would never judge a wolf just because they couldn’t shift,” he says, sincerely.

'I like this new Gamma, let’s be friends,' Alma cheers.

“Thanks, Gamma and thanks for having my back… or face in this case,” I smile.

“Not a problem, and please call me Roland,” he grins, “And don’t go taking food up to the Beta suite. That goes for all of you,” he orders, gently, addressing the rest of the staff.

“She’ll be pissed you know,” I inform him.

He shrugs, “What else is new? I don’t give a shit, she doesn’t deserve rewards for that behaviour, and I’ll be sure to tell the Alpha about this.”

I gulp. He’s going to tell Alden?... I mean, Alpha Alden.

'No you didn’t,' Alma sings teasingly.

'Shut up,' I snap, but she just laughs.

“Do you have to tell the Alpha about this?” I ask, anxiously. I’m not afraid I’ll get in trouble; I just hate the idea of him thinking I’m weak and needed the Gamma to come save me. I could have had that bitch choking on her own teeth.

“Of course, I do. I don’t care if she’s got a rank, what she did was wrong and besides, Alden hates her too,” he winks. Well, that makes me feel a little better. “Anyway, I better be off, try not to get into any fights while I’m gone,” he teases.

“I make no promises,” I smile. He laughs, exiting the kitchen.

“You know, Relly, one of these days that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble,” Reese warns, holding her hand to her heart.

“I’m not going to stand here and cop someone being a bitch to me and everyone else. Just because we’re Omegas doesn’t mean we deserve to be treated like shit,” I say, angrily. The other staff look away and focus back on their tasks. Cowards. Probably afraid they’ll be punished by association. What happened to packs sticking together, huh?

Reese sighs, “Just be careful. I don’t want anything happening to you,” she says, pulling me into a hug. I sigh and hug her back. At least she’s always got my back.

“I’ll be okay, but thanks for caring,” I say, graciously.

“It’s what best friends are for,” she grins, “I’ve always got your back, and I think the Gamma does too,” she says in surprise.

“Who’d have thunk it?” I say. We both giggle and resume our tasks. Hopefully, we can get through the rest of our chores without another visit from Lady Muck.