Page 6 of The Demon's Pet

He was a weak beta until he married my mom and gained the title of family alpha. As she was already an omega, that was the default.

With his lack of control, his bullying tendencies, and his willingness to displace all of his anger and rage onto me and my mother, he definitely fit the alpha mold, at least in my experience.

I wondered what other villages were like outside our haven.

Sam, that scary-looking but tremendously hot angel, had called us medieval. But why? Didn’t other havens do things the same way we did? It was the gods’ will after all.

But something about the way he looked at me, at all of us, with disgust, like we were beneath him, stuck in my craw.

I swallowed, watching as my dad turned and headed for the door.

“I’m going to go apologize in person and try to make amends for this. You, young lady, will prepare yourself for the mating ceremony.” He waved his hand at me, then shook his head in disgust.

When the door slammed behind him, my mother turned to me, wringing her hands, wearing a nearly threadbare dress.

We’d never had a lot of money, thanks to my father’s gambling at places outside the haven.

Only alphas could travel outside the lands of the pack.

Omegas had to stay close, so they could be “protected.”

Protected. What an absolute racket.

“You’ve never defended me,” I spat at my mother, grabbing the worn railing of the wooden stairs that led up to my tiny room. “Never once, in my entire life.” I touched my cheek. “How could you? I’m your daughter.”

She wrung her hands again, made as if she were going to come over to me, and then stopped. Her cheeks were flushed. Her blue eyes welled with tears. “What could I do? I’m an omega.”

I nodded because I knew it to be the truth.

What could she have done? Still, it hurt that she had never even tried.

“You need to stop fighting,” she called after me. “You need to stop getting involved when alphas are dealing punishment—”

I stomped partially back down the stairs to look at her, my combat boots almost splintering the ragged wood. “By punishment, you mean when they gang up to bully kids just because they’re omegas? No. I’m gonna fight.” I grinned. “And I’m going to fight this mating ceremony, because I’ll be damned if I have to accept a life like the one you live.”

I felt slightly bad as I saw her face fall, but I couldn’t care anymore. She let me be beaten and bullied, all because she worried for her own skin.

She was still a shifter, though she’d been assigned the omega role. We were still strong, though not as strong as alphas, who were often picked because of physical strength.

But we weren’t that much weaker. We didn’t need to take as much punishment as she did.

But as she always did with the tough things in life, she hung her head and stepped back. “I’m sorry, Cleo, for failing you.”

I couldn’t bring myself to say anything as I walked back up the stairs to my room, feeling heavier all over but mostly in my heart.

I opened the door to my room and surveyed it. A small oak dresser with a mirror. A desk with drawers. A wooden floor with no rug. A small bed with a straw mattress, threadbare sheets, and a scratchy quilt.

Our pack wasn’t about luxury. We were about staying hidden and sustaining our own pack however we could.

We made most things ourselves, through pack woodworkers and craftsmen.

And the best crafts were never wasted on an omega.

I liked my room, though. It was a way to be away from everything. No bullies. No alphas asking me to submit. Even my father seemed to respect my space when I came here.

I flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling, making out faces in the stucco above me.

I needed to get out of here. I looked over at the small window, which looked out on a wheat field next to a large pasture.

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