A shove from Livia, elbow jabbed in her ribs and Quinn was doubling over momentarily, pain blossoming in her side. The Alpha had snarled low and gruff, hatred hissed through flared nostrils. Rage burned in the air, so boundless it made her freeze, prey-like as she stood waiting for their attack, Float ready to hurt.
But there could be none of that, not in a space ruled by Omegas, not when she was so new to Hemlock.
"I'm going to kill you." Livia had spat, low and rough. "Whore."
The target was set, looped over her neck. And Quinn sighed. There was no defence to be said, she couldn't reason with them, couldn't explain. Not after everything. Not after Z. She'd broken the hierarchy, stolen what they'd yearned for, and this was her price to pay.
The words flowed from them then, growls hissed from the Alphas as she moved forward. The voices were soft enough for her to be unable to pick out identities and pinpoint locations. But they surged forward as she made her way to the table—a board with a rusting knife; and a mountain of raw onions to be chopped.
"Slut."
"Cunt."
"Traitor."
"Beta."
Quinn had closed her eyes, and felt the sting of a headache forming at her temple. The weight of her decisions was heavy on her shoulders. She picked up the knife then, fingers on spicy, raw flesh. The blade was dull.
The first tear that fell from her eyes was not because of the onions.
*
Z did not return to his cabin that night, and he would not for the days ahead. He'd vanished like the air. Left, without a word as if he'd only been there to push her into torment and agony. But she was thankful he wasn't there because his hut was now hers.
And there was nowhere else for her. The Alphas officially assigned to a pack had their own spaces in the pack homes; it was necessary, to keep the household running and the spaces clean. Those that didn't sleep in old huts upon dusty shared bed rolls—leftover space.
The girls had made sure that there wouldn't be one there for her, noses turned up and a shrug, bodies blocking the door. If Z had been there, her bed would have been on the ground outside in the snow.
But Z was gone, and so the cabin was hers.
Of course, the care of his home was her duty, with its pots and pans and its stores of dried rations. But the cabin protected her from the Alphas, for they did not dare to touch what was his. It was a blessing in disguise, and Quinn was suddenly a Beta with her own house and her own space. Something Alphas would kill to have back at Fern. But in the day when she ventured into the kitchen for work, life was difficult for a woman scorned.
It was all minor, nothing that was enough to send her running for an Omega.
Xin would greet her with pressed lips and a smooth nod. There were some that didn't care, but they stayed away as if she had a disease to be caught. No one spoke to her, no one looked at her. They did not seem to notice her existence, and ignored her when she asked questions. And Livia peppered it all with giggles and whispers behind her back.
A day of wrinkled, bleeding fingers from washing the cold icy dishes in the snow. And Quinn had turned to find her crutches missing, tossed out into the blizzard. It was only because of Float that she could locate it so quickly.
Her eyes were burning in the blizzard, ice penetrating her clothes, the blue electricity shaving away at the worse of it all. She sagged against the snow, flung by the winds, and crippled from her leg. But on her knees, she found her crutches in the growing cold.
A laugh had barked from Livia's lips when she'd returned wet and angry. By then spoons scrapped at the end of the bucket—food that night was a thick soup of diced salted vegetables, earthy chunks of potatoes and rice boiled into a sticky formless porridge.
But there was not one drop left for her when she returned. Only the giggles from Livia who drank the last bowl down with sharp eyes. Quinn only held her stomach, hunger rippling through her body. It was to be hers.
Her food.
Livia had smacked it down with a burp, a smile on her lips. She stood and left with the girls; dirty plates piled high across the table. Dishwashing was now Quinn's duty, as was the chopping of onions and the preparation of ingredients late at night. She'd closed her eyes, fist clenched, breath fast.
The workload piled up, but she did it without complaint. Quinn knew if she went against them there would be more coming her way. This had her steadying herself, moving to put the plates into a soapy basin. Xin stood in the kitchen looking at her, arms crossed, with her bowl washed and cleaned.
"You can always go to Hyeon, you know that right?" Xin had asked, standing by the door with bitterness in her voice. She wouldn't help her, and Quinn didn't want her to. Xin had no power, and she stood at the precipice of her leadership, a mere messenger.
"I know."
"Then why?"
"I don't want them punished; they'll hate me for it."
"They hate you now. You're just screwing yourself over," Xin warned. "Don't be an idiot."
"If I stand up for myself now," Quinn stated, clean plates propped on the shelves. "Those pranks will get worse. No one trusts me. And so they could do anything to get me down, and it'll be easy because they know where it hurts. Livia's a popular Alpha amongst the Omegas." Her eyes swayed to Xin. "You know that too." The elder girl seemed to freeze, swallowed thickly, fingers rubbing against her arm.
"Well, Z likes you."
"He's not here…And I don't trust Omegas, I never have."
"I suppose," Xin grouched. "You were the first one that called bullshit to the Mating Laws."
Quinn had smiled, Float coating the tips of her fingers as Xin left with uneasy steps. If this was all they'd do to her, she'd gladly accept it. Once Z was gone for good, they'd all let down their guard, grown used to her presence. The girls would know that she was just small prey.
Plus, food was no issue, not when there was Float, and there was freedom.
It had been a while since she'd last pulled up the store page, huddled in the hut, thick furs curled over her body. There wasn't much gold, not enough if she wanted money for an emergency. But there were hearts, a strange accumulation that confused her to no end.
For in such a short time, there were now twenty, gleaming in the dark. And they increased every week, sometimes daily, sometimes hourly. Minutes even. They arrived in a strange pattern that she could not understand. But Quinn wasn't too quick in making her purchases, her eyes going over the options as she ate the last pack of biscuits left in her endless item box.
Hiding in Plain Sight had almost killed her, so she had to be careful with her abilities. But her eyes zeroed in on something new, on something that now seemed important with her items lost in the snow. And food as an issue in this world.
Search – Find anything within a five-kilometre radius.