The Wolfless Omega's Vow Of Revenge

Evelyn Thorne POV:

Two years. Two years of scrubbing floors, hauling laundry, and enduring the casual cruelty of the pack. Two years of being invisible, a ghost haunting the servant’s corridors of the Packhouse.

Today was my twentieth birthday. No one remembered. No one cared. Omegas didn’t have birthdays.

*"Two years and we're still washing dishes,"* Aries grumbled in my head as I plunged my hands into the greasy water of the kitchen sink. *"Are you ever going to fight back? You could, for instance, smash this plate over that old hag Martha's head."*

*And get locked in the punishment cell for three days without food,* I replied calmly, my hands moving in a steady, practiced rhythm. *It would only make things harder for Ren at the training grounds. It's not worth it.*

I had learned patience. I had learned to swallow my pride, to wear a mask of numb obedience. Every insult, every shove, I stored it away, letting it fuel the quiet, secret fire within me. I spent my nights practicing the fighting moves I observed from the warrior training sessions, my body growing stronger in the shadows, my power coiling tighter within me, waiting.

The kitchen doors swung open, and Lily Crest swept in, flanked by two of her fawning friends. She was the jewel of the pack now, beautiful and popular, and everyone assumed she would be Desmond's chosen mate, the future Luna.

She wrinkled her perfectly powdered nose at the kitchen’s steamy air and then her cold, blue eyes landed on me.

"Well, look what we have here," she said, her voice dripping with saccharine poison. "Still scrubbing away, our little Wolfless."

The other Omegas in the kitchen bowed their heads, making themselves smaller, trying to disappear. I kept my eyes on the sink, my face a blank wall. Ignoring her was the most effective weapon I had.

My indifference clearly enraged her. She glided closer and, with a deliberate 'oops,' tipped her glass of juice. The sticky, red liquid puddled on the floor I had just finished mopping.

"How clumsy of me," she tittered, her friends giggling behind her. "Lick it up, Omega. Maybe I'll let you have the scraps from my dinner tonight."

*"Kill her,"* Aries roared in my mind, a wave of pure fury crashing against my consciousness. *"Let me out, Evelyn! I'll rip her throat out!"*

I clenched my fists, my short, clean nails digging into my palms. The sharp sting of pain helped me focus. This was a test. She wanted a reaction. She wanted to see me break.

I would not give her the satisfaction.

Wordlessly, I picked up a rag, knelt, and began to wipe up the mess.

My submission seemed to bore her. With a sigh of theatrical frustration, she kicked the bucket of dirty water beside me. Icy, foul-smelling water sloshed over my legs and soaked the hem of my thin uniform.

She leaned down, her face close to my ear, her voice a venomous whisper meant only for me. "Did you know it's your birthday today, too? A sad little party for one in the dirt. Meanwhile, Desmond is spending his entire day planning the magnificent celebration he's throwing for *me* tonight."

That did it. The mention of his name, the casual, possessive way she spoke it, was a poisoned dagger straight to the heart.

My head snapped up. For a split second, the mask slipped, and she saw the cold, murderous rage in my eyes.

She flinched, taking an involuntary step back, a flicker of fear in her eyes before it was replaced by renewed anger.

Before she could say or do anything else, Martha bustled into the kitchen. Her scowl at me instantly transformed into a fawning smile when she saw Lily.

"Miss Crest! How lovely to see you." She then rounded on me. "You, girl! Stop dawdling! You'll be serving at Miss Lily's party tonight. There's much to be done!"

Of course. The cruelty was exquisite. Forcing me to serve at my tormentor’s birthday party.

Lily’s triumphant smile returned. "Excellent, Martha. Put her on drink duty. I can't wait to see the look on our future Alpha's face when he sees what’s become of his old... playmate."

She turned and swept out of the kitchen, her laughter echoing behind her.

I stayed on my knees, methodically cleaning up the mess. Aries was quiet now, her rage simmering down into a shared, aching pain.

I knew what tonight would be. It wasn't a party. It was a public execution of my dignity.

I looked at my own pathetic reflection in the murky water on the floor. My face was pale and thin, but my eyes... my eyes burned with a cold, hard light.

*One day, Aries,* I promised my wolf, my voice a silent vow in my soul. *Everyone who has ever humiliated us will pay. A hundred times over.*

*"I'm counting on it,"* she replied, her voice regaining its strength. *"But for now, let's go to this stupid party. Who knows... maybe our fate changes tonight."*

There was a strange, prophetic note in her voice that sent a shiver down my spine.