Lorali

I walk into the tall, menacing building, my steps echoing against the polished marble floor. The sheer size of it makes me feel small. I’ve never seen skyscrapers in real life before. I’ve only seen them in movies where they loom like steel giants over the city. Now I stand inside one, dwarfed by its height, its walls gleaming with wealth.

The lounge area is not as spacious as Alma’s dining hall, but it radiates opulence. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its crystals scattering light across the room like shards of stars.

Plush chairs line the walls, and the air smells faintly of polished wood and perfume. People glance at me with curious, wary eyes, their whispers brushing against my ears. I clutch the box of cupcakes tighter, forcing myself to stop gawking. It’s not that I’m amazed, I’ve seen better at Alma, it’s just new, unfamiliar, and unsettling.

I step into the elevator, my fingers trembling as I reach out to press the button for the top floor.

"Hold the elevator!"

A girl rushes toward me, her heels clattering against the floor like gunshots. I press the button to stop the doors from closing.

"Thanks," she mutters, breathless, stepping inside. Her perfume floods the small space, heavy and cloying, as the doors slide shut.

"No problem," I reply softly, shifting to the corner.

She has no scent, which means she’s probably a beta. Her clothes would have killed Alma’s clothing monitors instantly. She wears a jean skirt so short it exposes an inch of her butt cheeks, paired with a white, flowy tube top and a gold chain wrapped around her stomach. Her boots are the tallest heels I’ve ever seen, making her tower over me, and her wrists and neck glitter with jewelry that clinks faintly when she moves.

"You going to the penthouse?" she asks, surprised, popping her gum as she presses her floor button just below mine.

"Yes. I’m their new pack member," I say, my voice quiet, moving further into the corner to keep distance between us.

"Nice. I didn’t know they were taking in a beta. Maybe I would have applied."

"Oh, you’re mistaken. I’m not a beta. I’m an Omega, from Alma."

She turns, her eyes sweeping over me with a judging smirk. "That explains the old hag dress. You’re one of those Omega princesses." Old hag dress? This is my Alma uniform. It’s custom, not old.

"Doesn’t it feel oppressive being an Omega, having your whole life controlled by someone else? I couldn’t live that kind of life."

"And isn’t it exhausting being a beta, constantly proving your worth because you bring nothing to the table? I could never live that kind of life," I snap, rolling my eyes.

She laughs, her gum cracking. "Oh wow, you have a temper. I wonder how you’ll get along with Walter. He also has a temper." Walter. Is that Pack Spade’s Omega? Walter. The name lingers in my mind, warm and heavy.

"Are those cupcakes?" she asks suddenly, pointing at my box. I nod, startled. How did she know? The box isn’t see‑through. "Can I have one?" No. Why would I do that? But I force a smile. "Of course."

It would be unkind to refuse when I have plenty. I open the box and hand her a vanilla cupcake topped with pink icing and sprinkles.

"Thanks," she says as the elevator dings open. "This is my floor. Sorry if you felt offended by my comment earlier." Her apology surprises me. She seemed too stuck‑up to say that. "My name is Astrid, by the way. We should hang out if you ever get tired of ’the crazy Omega on the top floor.’" The doors close before I can respond.

The crazy Omega on the top floor.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I whisper to myself.

Everything feels confusing. I know nothing about the pack I’m supposed to spend my whole life with. First, there was the cruel man who drove me here, saying nothing but mean things. I brushed it off, thinking he was late for whatever. Now this girl hints at something else. Maybe she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She doesn’t look like someone you can trust.

The elevator stops at the top floor. I step out before it’s called back down. The hallway is short, lined with tall plants on either side and a carpet stretching toward a single double door. I thought someone would be waiting for me, but no one is here.

I stop in front of the doors, my breath uneven, taking a moment to calm my nerves before knocking. Footsteps echo from inside, and I straighten, heart racing. This is it. I’m about to see my fated, the one I glimpsed at the gala.

Minutes pass. Nothing. The door doesn’t open. Do they want me to let myself in? I twist the knob. Nothing. Locked. "What’s going on?" I whisper, knocking again and again.

I don’t know how long I knock, calling out, asking if anyone is there which is stupid because I know someone is, they’re moving inside. But no one opens.

Exhausted, I sink onto the carpet, my back against the wall. My hands ache from knocking, but not as much as my heart. Did I make the wrong choice by choosing this pack? Would things have been different if I chose another? Would I be happily arranging my nest now instead of sitting outside a locked door?

Buzz.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out. A message from the group.

Vani:

Testing, testing, is anyone there? 👀

Almost instantly, Cleo’s and Susie’s typing bubbles appear beneath Vanya’s message.

Her Royal Highness:

Present. 🫡

Susie:

Typing while taking a dump.

I chuckle, shaking my head at Susie’s ridiculousness.

Me:

We didn’t need to know that.

Susie:

But you wanted to know deep down.

Vani:

So Ella is the only one not online.

Her Royal Highness:

She’s probably on airplane mode. I would be too, but Theo said we would leave tomorrow.

Susie:

Who is Theo?

Her Royal Highness:

One of my other Alphas. There are others besides Yorin, you know.

Vani:

"My Alphas." You must be settling in well.

Her Royal Highness:

Definitely. I told them I’ve never had chocolate, and he bought me every kind of chocolate in the store.

Vani:

Damn. All I got was a house tour and a couple of gifts before they all left. Bare minimum.

Me:

You have no idea what I would do for that bare minimum right now.

Susie:

Oh, that sounds bad. What did your pack do for you?

Me:

Alot. Alot of nothing. I was fetched by the rudest guy in the world, who basically told me I smell like dog poop. He threw a scent‑dampening cream at me, flicked my head, and kicked me out of his car. And then, as if my day couldn’t get any worse, some girl called me a hag.

My fingers hover above the screen. Silence fills the chat. Maybe I shouldn’t have typed that. They all have so much going on in their lives. They shouldn’t have to listen to my problems.

Vani:

Are you okay?

Me:

As okay as I can possibly be, considering I’ve been refused entry inside the house. I’m sitting outside.

Susie:

WHAT! Why are you sitting there? Girl, call the police! They’re mistreating an Omega, and that’s illegal.

Her Royal Highness:

Or better yet, bring down the door. Show them you are not to be belittled!

Vani:

Should I come over and fetch you? I don’t live far.

Me:

Thanks for the concern, guys, but it’s fine. I want to give this pack a chance. After all, my fated mates are here. If life proves too difficult, I’ll just go back to Alma.

"Shoot," I grunt as my phone powers off right after I send my last message. The screen goes black, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I shove it back into my pocket, exhausted.

The night stretches long and heavy. I can’t sleep. My mind spins with thoughts of my future life, of what it means to be chosen by a pack that doesn’t want me. My stomach growls, sharp and insistent. I pull out a cupcake from the box. It’s smudged now, no longer perfect, the icing smeared against the paper. A perfect reflection of me, messy, worn down and not what I was meant to be.

I take a bite, the sweetness melting on my tongue, and close my eyes. I savor it, forcing myself to believe in something small and good.

Tomorrow will be a better day. I can feel it.

Walter

Earlier that day.

I lay the towel neatly on the bed, smoothing the fabric with my palm. Should I add a little toiletries bag? I doubt she’ll bring one. I stand at the edge of the guest room, staring at the space I’ve just spent three exhausting hours making livable. If I hadn’t done it, those bozos would have shoved her into the attic without a second thought. I may hate the girl, but I will still be a hospitable host. After all, I’m not a monster.

"Walter, my dear boy, there you are."

I hear the cheerful voice ring out behind me and turn with a smile. "Mommy."

Yuerna stands in the doorway, her red hair catching the light, her sharp black eyes are the only similarity she shares with Torin. I’ve always found my relationship with her amusing, she loves me so much, even though I’m not bonded to her son or in any sort of relationship with him. Torin and I, like Oracle, see each other more as family.

"I didn’t notice you arrived. I was too busy preparing a room for our unwanted guest," I say with a tight smile, trying to hide the storm of worry brewing inside me. I’ve been holding myself together ever since I found out about this whole second Omega ordeal. Honestly, I think I’m doing pretty well. I haven’t broken anything yet, which is common when I’m losing my mind.

"Wait, let me get this straight. You want to make that unwanted bitch comfortable?" Yuerna’s eyes widen, staring at me as if I’m the most foolish person alive.

"I’m not trying to make her comfortable. I’m just being a good host," I chuckle, brushing off her concern.

"If you’re a good host, the bitch will never leave." She hisses the words, clinging to my arm. I’m five‑six, and she stands a couple of inches shorter, so I look down at her, leaning back slightly.

"Do you want that girl to take your pack?"

"N... no," I stammer, my throat tight.

"You know the pack can’t kick the Omega out now that she’s here. The only way she leaves is if she chooses to leave."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Yuerna leans in and flicks my forehead. I groan, feigning injury.

"You need to make it unbearable for her to stay. Make her feel unwanted, and she’ll run back to Alma with her tail between her legs." She smiles, giving me a satisfied wink. "Yeah, no. I’m not doing that. It seems too cruel," I say, shaking my head. "We’ll sit down and talk like adults."

"She’s an Alma Omega. She won’t listen. Those girls feel entitled to everything. When she chose your pack, she knew the pack already had an Omega. She didn’t care. She picked the pack anyway." Yuerna grinds her teeth, her anger sharp, as if recalling some bitter memory.

Her point gnaws at me. Why would she choose a pack that already has an Omega? Her intentions can’t be pure. She’s probably trying to separate me from the pack, to claim them as her own. It wouldn’t be the first time an Omega tried that.

"So what do you suppose I do?" I ask, giving in to Yuerna’s plan. I know better than to be her accomplice, but I’ll deal with the guilt later. When this second Omega drama is over, I just want to go back to the crazy normal I know.

"I told you, make her life here unbearable."

"How exactly?"

Yuerna sighs, pressing her hand to her forehead. "Goodness, you don’t have a single mean bone in your body."

Then she clasps her hands together suddenly, making me flinch. "Alright. Since you clearly need my help and are begging me to stay, I’ll stay here until that Omega is gone."

"I never asked you to stay," I mutter under my breath. Torin won’t like this.

"I’ll stay in this room since you already have it ready. You won’t have to prepare another."

"Then where will the Omega stay?"

"Outside. On the balcony near the pool." She says it proudly, as if it’s genius.

"It’s winter. She’ll freeze," I reply, my voice laced with more concern than it should be for a homewrecking Omega. "That’s the point. The colder she feels, the faster she’ll leave. And she won’t be completely outside, we’ll give her a tent."

I give Yuerna an uncertain look, my stomach twisting, before nodding half‑heartedly.

"Good. Now I must inform the rest about the plan. I want no one to be nice to her."

Three Hours Later

"Aunty, she’s an Alma Omega. She won’t tolerate being picked on, and if we’re too mean to her, she’ll call the police. Then boom, our pack is ruined," Kei says, perched on the kitchen counter, spooning plain yogurt into his mouth with infuriating calm.

"She won’t," Yuerna replies sharply, her knife slicing through onions with practiced precision. "Cleovera prefers her Omegas to return quietly to the Academy rather than cause drama. That way she can find another match for them."

Yuerna knows a lot about Alma and its Headmistress. Sometimes I wonder if she went there herself, though I know that’s impossible. She grew up in an underprivileged family, like me, making it impossible to attend an elite Omega school. She’s an Institute Omega, plain and hardened, one who battled depression in that hellhole and clawed her way out.

"Who is Cleovera?" Oril asks from the couch, his eyes glued to his laptop screen. I rest my head against his shoulder, half‑watching the cooking show playing on the TV. The only reason I give it any attention is because I’m on it.

"The Headmistress," Yuerna answers, her voice clipped as she tosses onions into the pan. She insisted on cooking tonight. I was going to order pizza, like I always do. I’ve never touched a pot in this kitchen. The only food I’ve ever brought to the table was takeout, and I have no shame about it. I did enough cooking to last me a lifetime back in the institution.

"How do you kn—" Oril begins, but his words are cut short by a knock at the door.

"It looks like our unwanted guest has arrived," I say, pulling my head off Oril’s shoulder and sliding my feet into my slippers. My heart beats faster with every step toward the door.

"Stop." Yuerna’s command slices through the air just as my hand reaches for the door handle.

"Don’t let her in. Let her spend the night out there. That will send a message."

My eyes widen in shock. I glance at Oril, who remains absorbed in his laptop, and then at Kei, who seems more invested in his yogurt than anything else.

"You can’t be serious, Mommy?" I whisper, my voice trembling.

"I am. It will send a message. And if she’s smart, which she’s not, she’ll leave."

"It feels wrong," I murmur, my chest tightening.

"It will feel worse for you if she’s in here acting all high and mighty," Kei says suddenly, his eyes locking on mine for the first time tonight. His tone is gentle, but his words sting.

Seeing me hesitate, he sets his bowl on the counter and slides off it. He walks toward me, his presence steady, his hand reaching for mine.

"Wanna take a bath together?" he asks, his voice low, coaxing.

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "You know I can never refuse bathing with you."

He takes my hand, pulling me away from the door. I glance back once, my eyes lingering on the wood, the barrier between me and the girl outside. My heart pounds with guilt, but I force myself to focus on Kei, my Delta, the one who steadies me when everything else feels like it’s falling apart.