Grandfather Silas continues, “An offered sacrifice would guarantee that the demon disappears for at least another two centuries. Unfortunately, it must be one of our own.”
Caius nods. “The Elder Council has already discussed this, and we have decided that the sacrifice will be the lowest-ranking wolf in the Snehvolk Pack.”
A flicker of dread jolts through me like a lightning bolt, surging through my bones and widening my eyes with horrified realization.
They’re talking about a particular wolf whose name I wouldn’t dare to speak because of what happened almost five years ago. But the unspeakable name is the one my inner wolf whispers, its voice rendering me speechless.
The lowest ranking wolf is the runt of the litter, the omega she-wolf who is the lowest in the pack’s hierarchy because of the delayed reception of her wolf and the fact that she’s useless since her shifts cannot occur on command.
She’s a broken wolf, one who cannot serve the pack except in the scullery.
Despite that, my inner wolf seems attached—only because of the mere fact that she’s a Snehvolk wolf, and as the alpha and leader of the pack, I have to protect my people.
Right?
I have to protect every wolf in this pack, even when the wolf in question is someone I wish I didn’t have to see again. After that fateful night at the bonfire five years ago, I decided that she was nonexistent in my life.
But my inner wolf seems to feel differently as it sounds her name mentally, a wave of protectiveness washing over me. Even if she’s the lowest in the pack’s hierarchy, she’s still one of us.
It has nothing to do with our history.
But then why does my inner wolf chanting her name send a shiver coursing down my spine?
“Aurora…”
Chapter 2 - Aurora
Using a rag to wipe my pruney fingers, wrinkled from washing the pack’s dinner cutlery, a forlorn sigh escapes my lips. I peep through the crack of the door that separates the scullery from the dining area, counting the heads that remain there and hoping the last handful of werewolves finish with dinner so I can eat.
I have to wait for everyone else to be done so I can get the scraps. It’s always like this, since I’m just the lowly omega. I’m not the only omega in the Snehvolk Pack, but I’m the runt of the litter, the lowest of the low.
That’s why I have to wait for everyone else to finish eating before placing a single morsel between my lips. My attention is drawn to my plump belly, which belies my restriction of meals with its shape, and my lack of appetite.
It’s because I’m different that I’m the lowly omega of the pack. My metabolism refuses to work like the others since I was delayed in receiving my wolf, and it barely works when I need it to. I can’t shift into wolf form at will, and that’s why I’m the pack’s omega and the punching bag for the more disdainful members of the pack.
I stick to the shadows mostly, staying out of trouble as much as possible, like a wallflower without pretty petals to make up for my slow-working metabolism that hardly digests the scraps of food I’m given. The only advantage is being able to eavesdrop on conversations that give me the upper hand and tell me who to avoid.
Like the one I can hear now, which forces me to focus my hearing on the hushed whispers behind the door that separates the scullery from the main kitchen. Though the Moon Goddesshadn’t taken kindly to me when I was thrown into this pack at birth, there are some advantages that I still find myself being grateful for.
“Did you hear the alphas whispering at dinner?” A female voice just outside the door sounds relieved. Peering closer, I notice a redhead, realizing it’s Amanda and her friend, Candace—two omegas in the pack who are superior to me because their mates are betas.
“Yeah…the demon dog is real. And they’re gonna offer it a sacrifice,” Candace agrees.
“Thank Goddess it isn’t one of us,” Amanda sighs in relief.
Candace scoffs. “You think our mates would ever let that happen?”
Amanda chuckles. “Of course not. At least once the sacrifice is made, we can all sleep better at night. Yesterday’s announcement was frightening.”
“I wonder if they’ll call for a meeting to announce who they’ve chosen as the demon’s offering.”
Amanda scoffs this time. “I bet they won’t. After all, Aurora is the lowest omega in the pack. Sacrificing her to the demon is no big deal.”
My heart skips a beat, and my jaw drops when I hear what she says, replaying Amanda’s words in my head until the full, daunting realization hits me.
I know I’m the outcast in the pack, but I never thought that they’d want to get rid of me this way. Sure, I’m heavier than any werewolf should be, and I’m not much help besides washing the dishes in the scullery, since no one would trust me to go anywhere near the food preparations or even serve dinner to the pack.
I didn’t really mind it. Not when it meant I could stay out of trouble.
