The Albino Omega

By midnight, the packhouse was dead silent. The high-ranking members were asleep, resting before the grand ceremony that would dictate the future of the Blood Moon Pack.

​Aria crept up from the basement, a bucket of soapy water in one hand and a tattered rag in the other. Her stomach growled, a sharp, twisting pain that reminded her she hadn't eaten a full meal in three days. Her ribs pressed sharply against her skin, a testament to the systematic starvation the pack inflicted upon her. They believed that starving the beast inside her would prevent her "curse" from spreading.

​She dropped to her knees in the grand foyer, scrubbing the marble tiles by the dim light of the moon filtering through the skylight.

​"Still crawling in the dirt, I see."

​Aria froze. A cold dread washed over her, far worse than the fear her brother inspired.

​Slowly, she looked up. Standing at the top of the grand staircase was Alpha Jaxon Vance. He was towering, broad-shouldered, with eyes the color of dark amber and a cruel, symmetrical face that the pack women swooned over. He wore his dominance like a heavy cloak, radiating an aura of pure, suffocating power that instantly forced Aria’s head down toward the floor.

​"Alpha Jaxon," she whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

​Jaxon descended the stairs slowly, his footsteps silent. He stopped right in front of her, the expensive leather of his shoes inches from her face. He reached down, gripping her white hair tightly in his fist, forcing her head back so she had no choice but to look at him.

​Aria whimpered, the strain on her neck sending a jolt of pain down her spine.

​"Tomorrow, I take my rightful place with a true Luna," Jaxon murmured, his gaze tracing her pale face with utter disgust. "The elders say a curse like yours can infect a pack's bloodline if left unchecked. I've tolerated your existence in my house out of respect for your father's service, but my patience is wearing thin, Aria."

​"I... I stay in the basement," she choked out, tears pooling in her eyes. "I don't bother anyone."

​"Your very breath bothers me," Jaxon sneered, twisting his grip on her hair. "You are an eyesore. A weak, pathetic Omega who couldn't even shift properly if her life depended on it." He shoved her away, sending her sprawling across the wet marble floor. Her bucket overturned, soapy water flooding the pristine tiles she had just spent hours cleaning.

​Jaxon looked down at the mess, his expression hardening. "Clean it up. And tomorrow, during the ceremony, you will stay in the courtyard with the low-borns. If you embarrass me in front of the visiting Alphas, I will make you beg for death."

​Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving Aria shivering on the wet floor, surrounded by the ruins of her labor.

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