I'm a born-and-raised Omega; unlike most Omegas.
A person can be made an Omega as a punishment by the elites--Alphas, Betas, and Gammas--the three leaders of the werewolf world. The Omegas are kept in the other part of the park, ostracized and maltreated. It's like a prison but with more freedom.
I sigh for the umpteenth time. In a few days, I will be eighteen. When one turns legal they get to have a mate. A destined partner blessed by the moon goddess. It was saithat one would know no greater joy than being united with one's mate.
"It's going to be fun." Maya nudges me and points to the meadows where we spend most of our free time, we walk towards it. It was a vast field that stretched for miles. We installed a swingset a few months ago.
"I hope so." Unlike Maya, I'm not an optimist when it comes to matters of love. My parents died pursuing each other. He was a Gamma, she was an Omega. She got banished because she couldn't fit in. She died five springs away--love killed her.
"Listen, Zara. When your prince comes along, you will be transported into a magical world, and you will live happily ever after." She chirps. I roll my eyes at that, I want to tell her that happily ever afters only exist in fairy tales. Maya has been separated from her parents since birth; she was left at the threshold of an orphanage. She has no origin; the Alpha considered her an Omega, so she lives in the northern part of the North-south Pack with me.
"When you leave I will miss you. I just hope your mate turns out to be an Omega, and we can live happily ever after." She nods. She picks on the loose thread of her pink gown that looks worn-out. I wear the same, it's the standard uniform of an Omega.
"I will take you with me." I held my pinky, and we intertwined our fingers, sealing the deal. She has always been like a younger sister to me. I hope I don't find my mate so I can stay with her. There have been rare cases of un-mate individuals. A person can be un-mate only if their destined partner dies--in numerous cases, they're offered a second chance. This is never heard of though.
She gets off the swing, and twirls. The air is humid and nice. I tug my short blonde hair behind my ear and observe her; her brunette sleek hair matches the color of her eyes. She has an oval-shaped baby face. I have never seen someone as optimistic as Maya; you can stab a knife into her, and she will still smile at you. That's how soft she is.
"Do you think Lara has a mate?" Lara is the kitchen head chef. We work in the kitchen section because we have no physical strength. Male omegas build houses, construct factories, and dig wells. While the female omegas are assigned to do menial jobs and plan events. The Alpha takes care of us, it is the least we can contribute.
"I don't know. I heard she is a widow. Maybe she lost her mate. That's why she is grumpy," I say. I can imagine Lara's old-wrinkled face with a permanent frown etched on her chubby face. When she walks, each step is made heavily. She holds the edge of her apron all the time. One wonders if she will go into labor any minute.
"Sorry for being grumpy, Zara." Maya's face turns at the same time as I do. We have been so caught up in conversing we haven't noticed an angry-looking Lara standing a few inches away from the swing set. Maya shrinks in her seat and I feel bad for her. If only I had thought of nice words to say.
"She didn't do anything." I defend. Lara has it in for the youngsters. Especially sixteen-year-olds like Maya. They have two years to find their soulmate and be free or be doomed if they happen to be mated to an Omega.
"I don't want to hear about any of that. I have already assigned duties to the others." She points at the main building that stands tall and gigantic and houses more than ten thousand Omegas.
"Duties?" Maya asks and I wish she could shut up and let me do the talking. Lara hates being interrupted. She wants to be the center of discussion all the time.
She scratches at a pimple on her right chin, the scar on her hand visible. There are rumors regarding it; some say she cheated on her mate, and when found, he struck her with a hammer--which is weird because the scar was so small, I doubt if it was done by a hammer. Maybe I should ask Lara.
"The annual ceremony. Alpha Josh has decided to host one in search of his mate--anyway, it's in three days, and I want you girls to be in charge of the decors, am I clear?"
"Yes, ma." We utter simultaneously.
Alpha Josh is said to be the oldest mateless Alpha in the whole continent. And there are almost twenty Alphas in total. The Omegas had no privilege of meeting him. We only receive orders from the higher-ups. But we have sneak peaks from magazines--which doesn't make it any better because all the pics are of his back--and stories we have picked up from Lara's conversation with the other staff.
"Alright. I will forgive you this time because I have so many tasks to do."
Maya smiles at her retrieving figure. I clutch the metal bar suddenly feeling nauseous. The ceremony is in three days which also happens to be my birthday.
Maya must've realized it as well because she glanced at her feet so deep in thought I had to clear my throat to draw her attention.
"We can sneak out and come here." She offers a frail smile.
There is no way we can sneak out, she knows that. My heart feels for the innocence of her youth, and I smile back. I hate the elites always scheduling events whenever they desire. Still, I hate the Omegas that comply with them more.
If I ever meet Alpha Josh, I will make sure to give him a piece of my mind.