Chapter Two: In the Fire
Lyra's POV
"Lyra, wake up," a soft voice murmured, accompanied by a gentle shake of my shoulder. My eyes fluttered open to find Mara standing over me, her expression kind but firm.
"It's time," she said. "We've got work to do."
I blinked away the remnants of sleep and nodded, pushing myself upright. My body still ached from days of running and the rough handling I'd received upon my arrival here, but there was no time to dwell on it.
"I just need a moment to freshen up," I mumbled, rubbing at my face.
Before Mara could reply, a loud, sharp voice cut through the room.
"You! New girl! Get to the kitchen now!"
I turned to see a man with a scowl standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he glared at me. I bit back the urge to argue, knowing it would only make things worse. Instead, I forced myself to my feet and nodded to Mara before hurrying toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was a whirlwind of movement, slaves bustling about as they prepared food for the pack. The heat from the stoves and ovens was oppressive, and the air was thick with the mingled scents of roasting meat and fresh bread. I stepped inside, unsure where to go or what to do.
"Where do you need me?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the nerves twisting in my stomach.
A gruff woman with flour-streaked hands pointed to a pile of vegetables on the counter. "Start peeling those," she said without looking up.
I nodded and got to work, grabbing a knife and settling into a rhythm. The task was simple enough, and for a moment, I allowed myself to focus on it, letting the repetitive motion calm my nervousness.
But the peace didn't last.
A sudden, forceful shove sent me sprawling to the floor, the knife clattering from my hand. Pain shot through my palms as they scraped against the rough stone floor. Laughter rang out, harsh and mocking.
"Well, aren't you pathetic," a sneering voice said.
I looked up to see a girl around my age standing over me, her arms crossed and a smirk plastered across her face. Her eyes glittered with cruel amusement.
I ignored her, biting my tongue as I scrambled to my feet.
"Hey, I'm talking to you," she said, stepping closer and poking me in the shoulder. "Are you deaf, or just stupid?"
I kept my gaze fixed on the vegetables, refusing to engage.
"Answer me!" she snapped. "How old are you?"
"Seventeen," I muttered, hoping it would satisfy her enough to leave me alone.
She laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that made my wolf stir uneasily.
"Seventeen, and this weak? What's the matter? Don't you have a wolf?"
My throat tightened.
"I don't know," I said quietly, my voice barely audible over the noise of the kitchen.
Her expression shifted, surprise flickering across her features before it was replaced by disbelief.
"Wait—you haven't shifted?"
I shook my head.
Her laughter was louder this time, drawing the attention of the others in the kitchen.
"Seventeen and no shift? That's not possible. You're not just weak—you're defective."
I shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, but the weight of her words cut deep.
She shoved me again, harder this time. I stumbled but managed to keep my footing.
"You're an Omega," she sneered. "What are you even doing here? This pack doesn't have room for the weak."
Her words stung, but I didn't let it show. I couldn't. Instead, I focused on the task in front of me, picking up the knife and returning to the vegetables as if she wasn't there.
But deep down, her words echoed in my mind, stirring up the fear I had tried so hard to suppress.
They can't know. No one can ever know.
Before I could brace myself for another shove, Mara's voice rang out, sharp and unwavering.
"Kiera!" she called, stepping into the kitchen. Her presence seemed to shift the energy in the room, her voice cutting through the girl's laughter.
Kiera turned to face Mara, her smirk intact but her eyes narrowing slightly.
"What, Mara? Just having a little fun."
Mara crossed her arms, her gaze unyielding.
"You don't always have to cause trouble. It's time you stopped bullying every new girl that joins the pack."
Kiera scoffed, brushing a strand of dark hair out of her face.
"Bullying? I'm just giving her a reality check. She's not even part of our pack yet. You should mind your business."
"She's here now, isn't she?" Mara shot back.
"Which makes her my business. And yours, if you want to keep avoiding punishment for your constant troublemaking."
Kiera's lips curled into a sneer, but Mara didn't flinch.
"Go and set the table, Kiera," Mara continued, her voice firm but calm. "Instead of loitering around causing a scene."
For a moment, Kiera looked like she might argue, her hands balling into fists at her sides. But then, with a sharp snicker, she rolled her eyes and turned to leave.
"Whatever," she muttered, sauntering out of the kitchen. "Not like I want to waste my time here anyway."
As her footsteps faded, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the edge of the counter.
Mara turned to me, her expression softening. "Are you alright?"
I nodded, though I wasn't sure if it was entirely true.
"Thank you," I murmured.
"Don't let Kiera get to you," Mara said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "She's always been like that—picking on those she thinks are weaker than her. But she's more bark than bite."
I managed a small smile, grateful for Mara's support. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Good." She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back. "Now, let's finish up here. The Alpha won't wait forever for his dinner, and neither will the rest of the pack."
I nodded again, turning back to the pile of vegetables. But even as I worked, I couldn't shake the weight of Kiera's words—or the sinking feeling that I might never be accepted here, no matter how hard I tried to blend in.