Chapter Two

I placed the last pot back into the cupboard, wiped my wet hands on the back of my ripped jeans and leaned against the stainless steel counter.

The Omegas had all left to get ready for the feast an hour ago leaving me with a mountain of pots to wash.

My back ached, the soles of my feet burned and my hands were cracked and weeping. I straightened myself up, arching my neck to stretch out the stiff muscles. Lower in the pack than even the Omegas my head was permanently bowed.

A piercing trill shattered the blissful silence. I heaved myself towards the stove and slammed my hand against the timer. In less than an hour, all the local packs would start arriving for the feast and I was supposed to be waiting to serve them.

The walk from the packhouse to the Alpha's cabin was less than a minute on foot but every step was an effort. My bones ached. My joints screamed for mercy. Since the celebrations began two days ago I'd had less than 5 hours sleep. Even the Omegas suffered and there were twelve of them sharing the burden. At the Alpha's cabin, there was only me.

After what felt like an eternity I made it to the cold, sterile utility room I called home. If I wasn't working this was the only room in the house I was allowed in. It comprised of tiled walls and floors, a washer, a dryer a stainless steel sink and a counter. My sleeping mat rested under the counter. 

I peeled my sweat-soaked shirt off tossing it into my small laundry bin. My clothes weren't allowed to touch the rest of the packs and I wasn't allowed to use the washer during the day. I wasn't allowed to use the tumble dryer which meant I often wore stale, still damp clothes. The utility room had no windows. Clothes took days to dry unless they were tumbled. During the harsh winter months, my clothes would freeze. It was so bad one year Alpha Patrick allowed me to use a small fan heater borrowed from the cosy packhouse lest I freeze to death in the night.

Tonight wasn't so bad. The cool Spring air didn't seep through the tiled walls the way the frozen winter winds did. Wear something clean, Luna Lucy had warned me. I pinched the bridge of my nose, staving off a headache that's been brewing since dawn and blinked at the meagre pile of clothes at the foot of my sleeping mat. I wasn't paid for serving the Alpha the way the Omegas were paid for serving the pack. The only belongings I had were cast-offs the rest of the pack no longer wanted. 

I knelt on the cold, hard floor, wincing as my weight rested on my bruised knees, and rifled through the pile of hand me down clothes, finally settling on a faded black shirt and a pair of black men's trousers. Both had swamped me when they were first donated to me but over the years I'd become adequate with a needle and thread. I placed the clothes on the tumble dryer still warm from drying the Alpha's formal wear and turned to face the sink. The utility didn't have hot water but the cool water splashing against my skin helped wake me. I washed the day's sweat from my skin, dried with a rough, damp towel and pulled on the clothes I selected earlier. 

The sun dipped behind the tall cedar trees as I made my way back to the Cedar Wood Pack House. A black SUV with tinted windows pulled up as I made my way to the front door. I stepped aside, giving my superiors the right of way.

With my head bowed I only saw the feet of the passengers as they strolled past me. Two men and a woman, I guessed from the shoes. The woman wore an expensive pair of diamante encrusted stilettos. I figured she must be the pack Luna. I rushed to the door, head still bowed and held it open for them.

"Thank you," she said softly as she passed me. The men grunted their thanks too. My brow furrowed. Luna's and Alpha's don't thank lower wolves and there's no way they mistook my tiny, pathetic frame for a fellow Luna. I nodded my head slightly, unsure what else to do. I couldn't speak to them. It's forbidden for a lower wolf to speak to Luna unless she is asked a question or responding to an order.

I hurried to the next door, my mind still pondering their strange behaviour. 

"Allow me," the bigger footed guy said, reaching for the heavy fire door before I could pull it open. "Ladies first," he ushered the Luna through the door and waited. I felt his eyes burning into my skin. He smelled of coffee and cigarettes and his voice sounded rich, smooth and comforting. Something deep inside me stirred. "Ladies first," he repeated,  tapping me gently on my shoulder. His touch was electric. It terrified me and excited me all at the same time. My insides churned like they were in a blender and my cheeks flamed. My feet stayed rooted to the ground. If Alpha Patrick spotted me entering the room before a superior he would have me whipped for subordinance. I'd made it 17 years without being whipped. I didn't intend to break my streak now. The wailing and begging of the Omega he whipped four years ago still haunted my nightmares. Poor Penelope had never been the same since. She physically shook whenever she heard Alpha Patrick's voice.

He gave me a slight push. I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. Why was he doing this? Was it some kind of cruel game? A trick? Did he wish to whip me himself?

"Fine," he sighed, sounding almost annoyed. He entered the room first, still holding the door open for me. I shook my head again. "Strange one, aren't you?" he chuckled as he let the door close gently.

The room buzzed with people as I entered with my back to the wall. Alpha Patrick snarled at me. I was supposed to be there first but there must already be at least six packs here. One of the Omega's raced around with a serving tray offering drinks to new arrivals.

"Get the tray and get to work, Runt," Alpha barked.

"Yes, Master," I scurried towards the Omega with the tray as fast as I could, head bowed, dodging well-heeled feet and spinning every few seconds. 

Don't look your superiors in the face, never turn your back on a superior, don't speak unless asked to,  Alpha Patrick's voice echoed in my head.

"What took you so long, Runt?" the Omega snarled thrusting the tray at me. It weighed almost as much as I did but somehow I managed to balance it across my forearm. My insides still felt odd, almost as if something was growing inside me. The room sounded louder than usual, the voices crisper and over the ruckus of the gathering, I could hear Owls hooting in the cedars.

I felt his eyes on me the whole time as I wound my way awkwardly through the room. I heard him whispering with his pack mates as I danced around trying to stick to all the rules.

Head down. Don't turn your back. Don't speak.

There were people all around me. It simply wasn't possible to not have my back to at least one superior. 

I counted feet as I worked, keeping track of who had drinks and who didn't. Everyone was served. Everyone except him.

"Her? You're sure?" His pack mate asked.

"That's what Shadow seems to think," his smooth voice came out as a sigh. "I admit, I was surprised too. I mean, look at her? I'm sure she's sweet and all but she's timid as a mouse. She's not Luna material. The poor thing would probably keel over in fear if I spoke to her."

"Drink, Master?" I squeaked.

He jolted, his feet spun sharply towards me.

"And she's quiet as a mouse too," his packmate laughed. "Didn't even hear her coming, did ya?" his packmate laughed. 

"Fuck you, Blake," the words were spoken without anger. Traces of laughter lingered in his voice.

"And she called you Master, kinky," the Luna teased. 

Tears blurred my vision. My own pack were never nice to me but they never teased me. 

"Enough," he snapped. "You're upsetting her."

She dipped her head, peering up at me from chin height.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "I meant no offence."

The thing inside me started whining. My Wolf. My Wolf was finally waking up and she was just as upset as me.

"D-d-drink?" I asked again, desperate to be away from them.

"Maddox Mason," he said, offering his hand. My wolf whined louder, almost deafening. She did not want to be around him. Maddox Mason, Alpha of the Moutain Ridge pack, the biggest pack in our region. He was almost royalty and if you believed the Omegas who were tittering about him this morning in the packhouse a fierce warrior and single to boot. Everyone one of them yearned to be his mate.  As if the Moon Goddess would pair an Alpha as powerful as Maddox Mason with an Omega. He'll be paired with the daughter of a powerful Luna. 

I backed away, thrusting the drinks tray forward, partly in sheer desperation to get them to select a drink so I could get the Hell away from them and partly to use as a shield, a barrier between me and Maddox Mason.

"And your name?" He stepped closer. I shook my head so hard my hair whipped me in the face sticking to the tears resting on my cheek. "Can you speak?" The heavy jug of red wine wobbled as my limbs started to tremble uncontrollably. My breath came in short jagged bursts. White dots danced in front of my eyes. 

"Dude, I think she's gonna pass out," Maddox's packmate said. 

"Are you okay?" Maddox reached for the tray, not to take a drink but to take the entire tray from me. I yanked it towards me, clutching on to it for dear life. Forget a whipping, if I let the Alpha Reagle hold a serving tray Alpha Patrick will have me executed. 

"Pay her no mind, Alpha Maddox, Sir, " Alpha Patrick's glossy black shoes appeared by Maddox's rugged leather biker boots. "She's not all there if you get me?" he took a drink from the serving tray, handing it to Maddox. I scurried away, secreting myself into the darkest corner I could find. I swear I heard Alpha Maddox snarl at Alpha Patrick as I hurried towards the corner.