Page 36 of Hard Knot

"Imagine being born into this world and no one giving a damn when you leave it. Like your existence meant nothing at all."

The words taste like ash in my mouth, but now that I've started, I can't seem to stop.

"They never showed the body at the funeral. Said it was because she was too beaten up, too mutilated to be viewed. But that was just another lie. Utter bullshit. We Omegas know better. I mean, if you don’t you’re just a blind fool asking for a reality check."

My voice hardens.

"They just did the proceedings to make some extra cash out of sympathy. Nothing more. My best friend was just another transaction to them, despite coming from a well-off family. They probably made more money from her death than they ever spent on her life. She wasn’t the favorite, but she was the prettiest. They hated that.” I can just remember her vibrant orange hair. “Vivid ginger hair with striking blue eyes. God, sometimes they looked green even. Like the perfect set of ocean eyes. She should have been a model if our world wasn’t so focused on hierarchies and all that other bullshit.”

I can feel Carter's hand tighten over mine, his warmth seeping into my cold fingers.

"The worst part?" I continue, the words spilling out now like poison from an old wound. "She was so excited about her first heat. Had it all planned out, which sounds fucking insane to me. Wanted to find a pack who would appreciate her art, her dancing, her fun lifestyle. She was honestly the golden retriever in life. She used to paint these incredible murals, all bright colors, and hope..."

The memory of her last piece hits me suddenly – a massive wall of swirling colors she'd done just weeks before her death. Blues, pinks, and yellows all blend together in a celebration of life.

"She never even got to finish her last painting," I whisper. "It's still there, in the old studio we used to rent. Half-finished.Just...waiting for its creator to return and finish what was started so the world could appreciate its completion. Like she just stepped out for a minute and might come back to add more color."

My free hand moves unconsciously to my thigh, where her memorial is inked permanently into my skin.

"That's why I got the tattoo. The skull…it glows in the dark. UV reactive ink. The moment I found an artist in the underground who would do it, I couldn’t say no. Because Jessie always said everything should have a little magic to it, and what better way than having a permanently inked work of art that glows brilliantly in the dark with just a hint of fluorescent lights? When in the clubs, oh…it’s a stunner. Catches looks like crazy."

I look up then, meeting Carter's intense gaze.

"You know what the really fucked up part is?” I offer as if some crazed philosophy I’m about to reveal. “The police report listed her cause of death as 'natural causes.' Because apparently, that's natural for an unclaimed Omega. To be used and discarded like trash. To be found in some alley with?—"

My voice breaks, and I have to take a deep breath before continuing.

"With evidence of at least six different Alphas having...having..."

I can't finish the sentence, but I don't need to.

Carter's scent shifts, taking on a sharper edge that speaks of barely contained rage. I decide to move on because I’m sure he understands her depressive end.

"The worst part was the media coverage," I say, my voice going flat, detached. "Three paragraphs on page six of the local paper. 'Tragic incident claims young Omega.' Like she was taken by a natural disaster or something. Not murdered by Alphas who probably went home to their families afterward as though nothing happened."

I pull my hand from his grip, wrapping my arms around myself.

"You want to know why I've spent five years refusing to be claimed? Why I'd rather disappear than submit? Because I’ve seen what happens to Omegas who believe in the system. Who thought if they just followed the rules, wore the right clothes, smiled the right way, everything would work out."

My eyes meet his again, and this time I let him see all the anger, all the pain I usually keep locked away.

“Watched how the hope is stolen from their eyes and is replaced with so much fear, I bet I can smell it a mile away. See the way their bodies tremble as realization settles in, and at that point, there’s no way of running from reality. No plan B, C, or D. They’re stuck in their predicament with no one shedding an ounce of pity, and their ends…they’re always tragic. Unforgiving.”

I let out a sigh and shrug.

"So yeah, maybe Hard Knot Academy is a prison. Maybe I'm just prolonging the inevitable. But at least in here, when I disappear, someone might notice."

I look into his eyes, my voice dropping to a whisper.

"Someone may care that the 'Carrion Crow' is no longer around to flaunt her talent like a swan with broken wings."

Carter studies me intently, his hazel eyes dark with something I can't quite read.

"Is that why you continue to audition? Knowing damn well they'll never accept you? Knowing they'll mock you endlessly, all because you're stuck here?"

A smirk tugs at my lips as I shrug, trying to inject lightness into my voice despite the weight in my chest.

"What can I say? I enjoy being a form of entertainment for these miserable Omegas most of the time." The words come out bitter despite my attempt at humor. "What other entertainmentwill stop them from thinking about their miserable lives and the constant anxiety revolving around whether they'll find the Alphas of their dreams or become a lovely five-year prodigy like me?"

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