Page 5 of Rejecting the Future Moon Goddess

“Honestly, I am just glad Alex kept me in the cleaning rotations and not the serving rotations,” I groan with relief, throwing the rubber gloves into the trash bin and washing my hands with scalding water and the strongest soap I can find. I feel dirty just touching anything of that nature and can feel the panic attack rising inside me.

Mumbling to Misbah that I am going to get air, I rush up the Omega staircase and burst into the garden, the frigid winter air a refreshing welcome to my lungs. I find a corner free of snow and take some deep breaths, hugging my knees to my chest and doing my best to keep the tears at bay. I found this spot thanks to Alex, a place to be weak between the walls of the pack house and the evergreen shrubs that leave a sharp pine scent in the air. No one comes to this part of the garden, not even Omegas, leaving me alone and feeling safe.

After an hour passes and my panic has settled down, I make my way down to the basement and put on another pair of rubber gloves, intending to finish those sheets. To my surprise, the sheet in the soaker tub is gone, and Lilly gives me a sympathetic glance while I go fold the dry clothes. She is one of three people who knows what happened, knows the night that officially killed my hope of being a Beta Female again.

I keep an eye on the time, working hard and keeping to the basement or the kitchen helping with meals for the day. When Lace comes in and lets the Omegas finish for the day and enjoy the rest of the night off at 7:30, I sigh with relief, finish folding the laundry fresh from the dryer and hand it off to a waiting Omega for him to deliver to its respective room.

Being the last to leave the laundry room and climb thestairs closest to the pack kitchen, I take a deep breath at the top of the stairs and confirm that no one else is around. Many are most likely in the dining hall, with the smells of freshly baked bread, stew and cupcakes lingering in the air. I see the goods sitting on the stove and counters, my stomach grumbling with hunger pains at the thought of being able to fill my stomach.

Since Beta Bastian and his wife took over, Omegas have become nothing more than tools, only deserving of enough food to live and nothing else. No extra food, no treats, and no drinks other than water. I’ve spent countless nights trying to fill my stomach with water in hopes of calming the hunger pains since my first week as an Omega. I think about all the tears falling from my eyes as I cried from the cramps an empty stomach brought when Beta Bastian took away my food privileges for some reason or another. I spent days trying to make it through another day until Alex could sneak me something small enough to eat. I learned quickly how to steal in order to keep on living in hopes of finding my own mate one day.

With a deep breath, I scan the area for any lingering scent of pack members. As I thought, most seem to be in the dining hall, with only a few upstairs. My scent will be gone by the time dinner is over. With a grin, I quickly grab the tote bag I stashed earlier in the day in the small broom closet beside the basement stairs and quickly fill it with the bread, easy-to-store goods from the pantry and a thermos of the still-hot stew. I leave the cupcakes with a reluctant gaze, knowing there is only enough for those dining in the hall, and quickly run up the stairs with my stolen goods towards my room in the attic.

Seven years have passed since my demotion to Omega, and in those seven years, this small room with bare wooden walls, a daybed, a desk, and a dresser slowly became home. Alock on the door handle was added two years ago, as well as a deadbolt that I locked each and every night since that incident a few years ago. Alex put in place this safety measure in case a visiting wolf needed a “Bribe” from Beta Bastian.

Placing my stolen goods on the desk beside my laptop, I sigh and take a seat on the worn wooden furniture, the damp cold only associated with an attic seeping into my body, causing goosebumps to form and shivers to crawl down my spine. Flicking my laptop open, a prize I won for a writing contest in school, I reach into the bag of goodies and pull out the stew as I wait for it to power on. With school still ever-present in my daily life at fourteen, I have no choice but to comply and do the homework needed for the following Monday.

After many bites of food and multiple assignments later, my tired eyes glance at the time and sigh. It is midnight, and I am finally done. With a groan and a final sip of the stew, I stash the remaining food I stole into an airtight container hidden in the walls and climb into the small bed for much-needed sleep.

?Chapter 7 – For Days, Years, Death is a Wish?

I groan as every step leading to my room causes a wince of pain.I hate life!is the thought that floats through my head while I slip out of my worn-out clothes and into some plain, comfortable black sweats and a black long-sleeved top.

Alex is still helping me every now and then, protecting me from Beta Bastian and Mrs. Jasmine as best as he can, the only other ray of hope I have to survive as my eighteenth birthday rolls closer. The thought that I will meet my mate, break free from Hidden Claws, and never see this pack again after graduation and the eleven years of hell I have suffered makes me smile as I lock the door to my room and open the window.

It’s midnight, and the moon shines down on me while the wind brings a much-needed breath of fresh air. The leaves of the large sugar maple tree next to my window rustle in the breeze, bringing the delectable smell of maple inside.

At this time, the chores in the pack house are done and the Beta couple are most likely snuggled safely in their house. Now is a great time to relax and make my way to my sanctuary.

With a grin, I silently slip out of the window and onto the sturdy branch that normally scrapes across the glass. This tree is a luxury, one Alex managed to convince the Betas I keep when they realized the room I was put in almost eleven years ago had a means to escape. His excuse was I was too terrified to try to sneak out and run away. They reluctantly kept the tree thankfully and I gained my freedom through this one act.

I remembered the first night spent in the attic, the tapping on the glass and shadows cast by the sugar maple tree scaring me so badly that I was unable to sleep. I was curled up under the duvet cover, shaking like a leaf in the wind until morning, when I finally gained enough courage a seven-year-old could muster to peer outside and see the tree standing tall and proud with its bright red leaves. Alex promptly taught me how to sneak out once I felt brave enough, using the window and the tree. Beta Bastian and Mrs. Jasmine were none the wiser to their son teaching their disowned daughter how to climb in and out of the attic with the help of a seemingly useless tree. It took some practice every night, almost getting caught by patrols, but by age nine, I had mastered sneaking out unnoticed.

With sure footing, I shimmy down the tree with deft movements and land silently on the grass-covered earth. Blending into the shadows, I look around and listen for a moment, making sure no one is near nor awake. I survey the pack grounds before sprinting towards the safety and cover of the forest.

At the pack house, I may only have a few friends, but outside deep in the hidden valley, I have Lizaria and the Unicorns to keep me company. With a wide grin hidden behind the mask I wear, I make my way towards the river, keeping my footsteps light and body hidden in the shadows. With the calming scent of water and the sounds of the waterfall drawing nearer, I pick up speed, letting the glow of the moon guide me. It’ll be the Harvest Moon soon, and my eighteenth birthday is drawing close.

Thoughts of being free from this place again bring a sort of giddiness inside my battered heart as I pass through the hidden entrance and into the tunnel. The magic in the air breathes life into me with each step until I enterthe meadow, the scene glowing with the moonlight and wind bringing a sweet scent that washes over me.

"You're late," The musical voice of the Elf reaches me just in time for me to dodge to the right, reflexes having me backflipping away to a comfortable distance. Lizaria chuckles, her eyes mischievous as the Elf and I stare at each other.

“Sorry about that, but I’m here for training like always, Liz,” I answer, rushing forward and throwing a handful of loose soil into her face. This gives me an opening, jumping over the ancient one and quickly unsheathing the sword strapped to Lizaria’s back. Spinning around just in time to block the blow sent my way, the blades meeting with a clang and the two of us wait for an opening. My body is already sore from the punishment I received earlier that day, and it’s a struggle to keep my position with the blades locked against each other and sweat building on my forehead.

With a deep breath, I drop to the ground, bringing my right leg around and sweeping out the Elf’s legs from under her and quickly dodging to the left. Lizaria lets out a surprised gasp behind me, but I am too slow as I spin around, ready for the next attack and barely dodging the blade wielded by my mentor but not the punch thrown to my left side. I gasp, my body flying backwards as the punch activates the pain from the large purple bruise made by Bastian himself.

"What took you so long to get here?" Lizaria questions, her slow steps walking towards me. Too focused on the pain, I ignore her question and curl my body in on itself, trying to breathe through the pain and pleading for it to settle down.

“Gem?” The footsteps stop, and the sound of a dull thud hitting the ground alerts me to the sword fight I am supposed to continue with Lizaria, but my body refuses to move. Even when I oh so wanted to keep practicing andfighting. I did not want to be weak anymore, and Lizaria promised to make me stronger.

“Geminie, they beat you again, didn’t they?” By “they” Lizaria meant the pack and the Beta couple. I was lucky today that Alex was on patrol when this happened or he would have been forced to watch and partake in handing out the punishment. Neither of us could refuse an order, and a public beating where every wolf but an Omega could partake is a fan favourite amongst the pack.

Warm hands cup my cheeks, and I look into the concerned eyes of my friend, her brows furrowed above me while I force myself to take slow, steady, deep breaths.

“I spilt water while in a rush to serve dinner. They beat me in the middle of the dining room as punishment, then made me drag myself out to the foyer while everyone else ate and chatted away like nothing happened.” I explain, tears forming in my eyes at the pain I felt while fifty wolves surrounded me after Beta Bastien grabbed my hair and dragged me to the middle of the room. His steel-toed boots connected with my rib cage as he screamed at me for being a clumsy, useless idiot that could do nothing right. Everyone mocked me and laughed while I rolled into a ball and covered my head, silent tears streaming down my face. I learned long ago to not make a sound, since the crowd loses interest when the wolf being beaten as punishment is quiet and accepts reality.

“When Lilly and Misbah rushed to my side and helped me to clean and bandage my wounds, it was already late and it took a little longer to finish chores. That’s why I was late.” I continued, feeling my friend take the sword still grasped in my hand and throw it behind her.

“You don’t have to explain everything to me, Little Wolf. Just cry it out,” And with her words, I cry. My sobsfill the air while Lizaria cradles my body to her, my hands clutching at the pastel pink tunic she wears, while her hands pull down my hood and run through my curls. She hums a lullaby while my heart twists with pain and grief. Nearly everyone in my pack hates me, blaming me for the death of Alpha Sorus and Luna Reena. That and being a weak wolf who never shifted at age sixteen like the rest of my peers, I became an easy target for their abuse. It’s why Lizaria agreed to train me in the Elven way, as a way to protect myself against any sneak attack unjustly thrown my way inside the pack house.

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