The early morning air in Goldencrest smells like pine and fresh dew, but I barely notice it as I pace my room. My stomach twists with nerves, my mind racing.
I keep replaying the instructions I was given yesterday. Be in the kitchen by 6:30. Follow your schedule. Don't mess up. Easy enough, right?
I finally step out into the hall, clutching the strap of my apron like it's a lifeline. The corridors are wide, grand even, but they feel suffocating.
My footsteps echo, drawing my attention to how alone I am. As I walk, I pass a few pack members, all focused on their tasks.
A young woman with her arms full of linens brushes past me without even a glance.
It's strange. No one stares. No one whispers. No one even acknowledges me. Back home, being wolfless was my identity—my shame.
Here, it's like I'm invisible.
I reach the staircase that leads down to the kitchen when a familiar voice echoes down the hallway.
"Move faster, we don't have all day."
My stomach tightens. Prince Caspian.
I glance up quickly, just enough to see him striding toward the opposite wing, his tone sharp as he addresses a young guard following him.
He's in his usual attire—tailored shirt, dark pants, and an aura that commands the room without trying. My chest tightens as memories flood back.
"...you're only alive because I've allowed it. Out of charity..."
I bite the inside of my cheek and force my feet to move. The last thing I need is for him to notice me.
Heart pounding, I dart into the nearest corridor, clutching my apron straps tighter as I press myself against the wall.
His footsteps grow louder, but thankfully, they don't turn my way. The guard mumbles a reply, and Caspian's voice fades as they round a corner.
I release the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My cheeks burn with a mix of embarrassment and anger.
Why does he still get under my skin? He's just another arrogant alpha, and I have no time for his disdain.
With a quick shake of my head, I step back into the main hall, determined to push the encounter out of my mind.
I'm still lost in thought when I push open the heavy kitchen door. Warmth and noise hit me all at once: the clatter of pots, the hum of voices, and the sharp, comforting smell of baked bread.
The kitchen is a whirlwind of movement, and I hesitate in the doorway, unsure where to start.
"New girl!"
A voice pulls me out of my daze. A woman with strawberry-blonde hair strides toward me, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Delilah, right?" she asks, her green eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Uh, yes," I manage. "And you're…?"
"Priscilla," she says with a quick grin. "Welcome to your first day of omega life in Goldencrest. Hope you're ready."
"For what?"
"Chaos," she says, waving a hand toward the bustling kitchen. Then she lowers her voice. "What's your assignment?"
"Kitchens," I reply, glancing around nervously.
She snorts. "You'll survive. Barely."
Before I can respond, she nudges me toward a corner where a pile of potatoes sits waiting to be peeled. I follow her, feeling awkward but grateful to have someone guiding me.
As I pick up a potato, I can't help but ask, "So, how'd you end up here?"
She smirks. "You mean, how did a charming rogue like me become an omega?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Something like that."
"Well," she says, picking up a potato of her own, "I had an affair with my alpha. His mate found out, and let's just say she wasn't thrilled. Had to run before she could kill me. Being a rogue wasn't exactly fun, so when I stumbled on Goldencrest, I decided being an omega sounded safer."
I blink, unsure how to respond. "That's… a lot."
"Tell me about it," she says, laughing lightly. "But enough about me. What about you? What's your story?"
My chest tightens. "Oh, uh…" I trail off, searching for an excuse. "Maybe later. I think the head chef's looking our way."
She glances up and groans. "He's always looking our way. Come on, new girl, let's get to work."
We dive into the potatoes, but I can feel her glancing at me occasionally, like she knows I dodged the question.
The rest of the day is a blur. After the kitchen, I'm handed a lawnmower and sent to the gardens.
The estate is massive, and it takes everything I have just to push the rattling machine up and down the endless rows. My arms ache, sweat drips down my face, and my legs feel like jelly.
"You okay?"
I glance up to see a petite woman with short black hair watching me with concern.
"I'm fine," I lie, forcing a smile.
She doesn't look convinced but nods and walks away.
Dang it! I wonder what it would be like if I had a wolf. Around me, there are a few others who look effortless in doing their tasks.
I can't even see a break of sweat. Not even on their underarms!
By lunchtime, I get sent to the dining hall, serving meals to the higher-ranked pack members.
My hands shake as I pour drinks, but no one seems to notice—or care. Then it's back to cleaning.
Sweeping, scrubbing, dusting. Every muscle in my body screams, but I push through.
I should be used to this, given it's all that I did back at moonhaven. But Moonhaven was a whole lot smaller than here.
This place...it's a city.
By the time the day ends, I'm ready to collapse. Instead, I drag myself to Cassidy's room, determined to keep my promise.
Cassidy opens the door with her usual energy, pulling me inside before I can protest.
"You look dead," she says, flopping onto the couch.
"I am dead," I mutter, sinking into the chair opposite her.
"Tough first day?"
I nod, too tired to explain.
She grins, tilting her head. "Well, welcome to the glamorous life of a Goldencrest omega. It gets better, I promise. Sort of."
I snort. "You're not an omega."
"It was supposed to make you feel better," she rolls her eyes.
"How comforting."
She laughs, then hesitates. "So… did you see Ethan today?"
"Who?" I ask, though I already know who she means.
She rolls her eyes. "You know who. Ethan. Tall, blonde, broody."
"Broody's one word for it," I say, smirking. "Why? Did you see him?"
"Briefly," she says, shrugging like it's no big deal. But her fingers fidget with the hem of her shirt, and there's a faint blush on her cheeks.
"Let me guess," I tease. "He didn't notice you."
She scoffs. "Please. Why would I care if Ethan notices me?"
I raise an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
She waves me off. "He's not my type. Too serious."
"Right," I say, drawing out the word.
Her cheeks flush deeper, and she glares at me. "I'm serious, Lilah. Drop it."
"Okay, okay," I say, holding up my hands. "But just so you know, you're a terrible liar."
She groans and throws a pillow at me, which I dodge with a laugh.
"I ran into Prince Caspian today though," I say, staring at the ceiling.
"Oh?"
"Well, more like I saw him and then immediately turned the other way. It's stupid, I know, but…" I trail off.
"It's not stupid." She looks at me, her expression softer than I expect. "He said some pretty awful things to you."
I shrug, pretending it doesn't matter. "I don't care what he thinks."
Her eyebrow quirks. "Really?"
"Of course not. He's just… Caspian."
She hums, clearly unconvinced. "Well, if I ever see him saying something nasty to you again, I might accidentally spill a drink on him."
Despite myself, I laugh. "You're not as sneaky as you think."
"I'm sneaky enough." She winks before changing the subject—probably for my sake. But the truth is, Caspian's words are harder to forget than I want to admit.
It's stupid to get affected by them if I've been hearing them my entire life, but is there really anything else I can do?
My stupid heart clenches when I remember his words, so how can I put that blame on me?
We settle into easy conversation after that, talking about everything and nothing. But I can't help noticing the way her expression softens every time Ethan's name comes up, even when she's trying to sound indifferent.
Eventually, my exhaustion catches up to me. I stretch out on the couch, my eyes growing heavy as Cassidy's voice fades into the background.
"Delilah?" she says softly.
"Hmm?"
"Thanks for coming over. I know you're tired."
I smile, my eyes already closed. "Anytime, Cass."
As I drift off, I hear her mutter something about Ethan, but I'm too far gone to make sense of it.