Page 17 of Grace of a Wolf 1
The shrill voice of the head omega cuts through the air, echoing from the kitchen.
My feet drag as I make my way to the kitchen, dreading whatever new task awaits me. The linoleum floor creaks under my weight, announcing my arrival before I even reach the doorway.
The head omega is a stern-faced woman named Margo. She dresses like a secretary, with a black suit and hair pulled back into a classic bun, and always with a phone in hand. She's also burly enough that, if I was asked with a gun to my head, I would have assumed her to be a bear shifter.
While I was still Alpha's daughter, she treated me with respect.
Now, I'm dirt beneath her shoe.
"There you are," she says, her tone clipped. "You're needed at the main lodge. They're short-handed."
"Yes, ma'am." I've learned to treat her with respect; she's the one who orders my punishments at the end of the night. I've watched as she ordered ten lashes, five nights in a row. Her expression never changed.
This woman wouldn't care if I died of exhaustion, as long as my work was done.
She looks me over, her lips pinched in disapproval. "Is that all you have to wear?"
Glancing at my oversized hoodie and sweatpants—one of my three outfits these days—I can only say, "Yes."
She sighs, clearly frustrated. "You'll need to find something else to wear. Wearing that reflects poorly on Alpha."
I blink at her words, the only outward evidence of my surprise. Since when do any of these wolves care? They've been mocking me since my downfall, saying human trash doesn't even deserve the clothes on my back.
Margo grimaces, shooing me away. "I'll find you something. For now, help them at the main lodge."
* * *
Arriving at the main lodge is a bit of a nerve-wracking affair.
Being holed up at the omega lodge buried beneath a mountain of chores had one bright side: I never had to worry about running into Rafe.
Being in the main part of town, where all the wolves gather, increases that risk exponentially. I have no desire to run into him, either alone or with Ellie. My heart's still wounded and bleeding; it doesn't need to be torn apart any further.
The air outside the omega lodge crackles with an unfamiliar energy. Our small werewolf city, usually a picture of serene efficiency, now buzzes with frantic activity. Wolves dart to andfro, their movements urgent and purposeful. The central garden, once a lush oasis of tranquility, lies in ruins. Dirt flies as workers tear up flowerbeds and uproot shrubs with ruthless efficiency.
What in the world…?
The giant main lodge looms ahead, and I quicken my pace.
"Grace!"
I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat. That voice. No. Please, no.
But luck, as always, isn't on my side. From the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of golden hair. Rafe. And beside him, dark hair gleaming in the sunlight, Ellie. Two picture-perfect mates, arm-in-arm.
I don't wait to see more, rushing for the front doors of the main lodge. I burst through the entrance, chest heaving in relief, only to collide with a wall of muscle. Stumbling back, I look up into Beta's scowling face.
"Watch where you're going, human," he growls, lip curling in disgust.
He used to pat my head and tell me everything would be okay. Used to—
Ugh. No point in dwelling in memories of false care.
"I'm sorry. Margo sent me—"
"I don't care what that omega wants," Beta cuts me off. His eyes narrow, sweeping over my disheveled appearance. "But since you're here now, make yourself useful."
Before I can protest, he turns and barks at a nearby wolf. "You there! I've got someone to help you move those bushes."
