Page 16 of Grace of a Wolf 1
"Good girl," she coos, patting my cheek condescendingly. "Run along now. I'm sure you have some important omega duties to attend to."
She turns on her heel and saunters away, leaving me standing there, shattered and alone. I watch her go, her graceful movements a stark contrast to my own awkward, human gait. Her little posse of she-wolves follow behind, giggling and whispering among themselves.
Oh, yes. Laugh at the pathetic human girl. Ha, ha.
As soon as she's out of sight, I crumple to the ground, my legs no longer able to support me. The tears I've been holding back finally spill over, hot and bitter on my cheeks.
A human among wolves. Alone. Unwanted. Forgotten.
Chapter seven
Grace: Put to Work
My new life routine is simple.
Wake up every morning before the sun rises. Cook and feed everyone in the omega lodge—both male and female. Clean when everyone leaves for the day. Do the piles of laundry. Lunch, thankfully, isn't my problem—but it also means I don't get to eat. And then, of course, dinner, and more cleaning.
There are other staff who work at the omega lodge, but unlike me, they're proper omega wolves. Anything they don't feel likedoing lands on my shoulders, and if I don't get them done, it's somehow my fault.
The first week of my new lifestyle ended with me being whipped five nights straight.
It isn't a normal punishment for shirking your duties. They just wanted an excuse to do it.
It wasn't a secret many of the pack hated having a human brought in when Alpha first adopted me. Like me, they lived in ignorance of my mother's identity. I'm sure they would have recognized her if they saw a picture, but I don't have anything like that. Only my memories.
It wasn't until the night of the Mate Hunt, when Alpha kicked me out of his home and family, that the pack learned the truth.
Mom was once mated to Alpha. Not as a proper Luna, of course. Mom, like me, was human. But she still bore his mating mark and was treated as his mate within the pack—until one day she disappeared, never to be seen again.
From the gossip running rampant these days, I quickly learned everyone thought she was dead.
My father—myrealfather—is also my biological father. They were killed in a house invasion gone wrong on my twelfth birthday. Three days later, I was taken in by a supposed family friend: Alpha.
His apparent care and warm home were more appealing than any foster home, even if I had to live among wolves.
If I'd known, I would have begged the foster system to keep me, but I doubt it would have made a difference. I had a home to go to, and someone willing to foot the bill. Why would they keep me in that situation?
I sigh, my hands sinking into the mountain of clean laundry before me. The scent of detergent tickles my nose as I sort through the pile, grimacing at the sheer number of boxers. Men's underwear. Great.
"At least they're clean," I mutter, folding each pair with quick, efficient movements.
My fingers brush against the soft cotton, and I can't help but think of Rafe. Did I ever fold his laundry? Of course not. That was a task reserved for the pack's domestic staff, not Alpha's daughter.
But I dreamed of being his wife. His mate. Dreamed of doing the laundry, of greeting him at the door with a home-cooked meal.
Now here I am, reduced to handling strangers' intimates.
I shake my head, banishing thoughts of my ex.
Focus on the task at hand, Grace. One pair at a time.
The basket marked 'Jason' slowly fills with neatly folded clothes. T-shirts, jeans, socks, and yes, those dreaded boxers. I smooth out a wrinkle in a shirt, wondering idly about the man who wears it. Is he kind? Cruel? Does he even know my name?
Probably not. To most of the pack, I'm just the human. The outsider. The one who doesn't belong.
I place the last item in Jason's basket and set it aside, ready for delivery. A small victory in a day full of endless chores.
"Human girl! Get up here!"
