Kaia's POV
I wake to someone banging on my door.
Kaia! Get up! Mother wants breakfast served in twenty minutes!
Lyanna's shrill voice cuts through my skull like a knife. I blink at the morning light streaming through my tiny window, my body aching from a night of restless sleep filled with blood moons and silver eyes.
Twenty-three hours until the Offering Rite.
Did you hear me? Lyanna bangs harder. Don't make me come in there!
I drag myself out of bed, my stomach growling. I haven't eaten since yesterday morning—Maeve's warning about poison still ringing in my ears. My stepmother has been slowly killing me for years. The thought makes rage simmer under my skin.
I'm coming, I call out, my voice rough.
I throw on an old shirt and pants, not bothering with anything nice. What's the point? I'm just a servant now. The Alpha's daughter died the moment Garrett rejected me in front of everyone.
But tonight, maybe I'll be reborn.
Or I'll die. Either option is better than this.
I head downstairs to the pack house kitchen where I've spent countless mornings preparing meals for wolves who barely acknowledge my existence. Cook Martha is already there, her kind face creasing with concern when she sees me.
Child, you look terrible. Did you eat anything last night?
I'm fine, I lie, grabbing plates to set the dining table.
You're not fine. That boy— She stops herself, pressing her lips together. It was cruel, what happened. You deserved better.
Her sympathy almost breaks me. I blink back tears and focus on arranging silverware. It doesn't matter anymore.
Of course it matters. You're worth
Martha, is breakfast ready? Moira's cold voice cuts through the kitchen. My stepmother stands in the doorway wearing an expensive robe, her hair perfectly styled even this early. We have guests arriving soon to celebrate Lyanna's engagement.
Engagement. They're moving fast.
Almost ready, Luna, Martha says respectfully, though I catch the tightness in her voice.
Moira's eyes slide to me. Kaia, you look awful. Try not to embarrass us in front of our guests. Wash your face at least.
I bite my tongue hard enough to taste blood. Twenty-three hours. I just need to survive twenty-three more hours in this house.
Yes, stepmother.
Her lips curve in satisfaction at my obedience. Good girl. Oh, and after breakfast, I need you to clean out the storage shed. It's filthy.
The storage shed is a nightmare, full of old junk and definitely infested with spiders. She's punishing me for existing.
Of course.
Moira leaves, and Martha touches my arm gently. You don't have to take this, you know. You could leave. Go somewhere else.
I know. I meet her eyes. I'm working on it.
Something in my expression makes her pause. Kaia, what are you planning?
Before I can answer, Sienna bursts through the kitchen door, her face flushed from running. Kaia! I've been looking everywhere for you! Why didn't you answer any of my messages?
I'd turned off my phone last night. Couldn't handle the pity texts from people who watched my humiliation.
I needed space.
Space? Kaia, that was— She stops, noticing Martha. Can we talk? Alone?
Martha nods knowingly and slips out, leaving us in the kitchen. The moment she's gone, Sienna grabs my shoulders.
Tell me you're not doing anything stupid.
Define stupid.
Kaia, I'm serious. Some of the pack members are saying you looked... I don't know, different when you ran away last night. Like something changed. And there are rumors— She lowers her voice. Rumors about the blood moon and the Offering Rite happening tonight.
My heart skips. How did you
Because I know you. Sienna's eyes fill with tears. And I know that look on your face. You're going to volunteer, aren't you?
I don't answer, which is answer enough.
Kaia, no. That ritual kills wolves! Most volunteers get nothing, and the rest—
The rest die or find their true mate. I know the risks.
Then you know it's insane! She's gripping my arms so hard it hurts. You could die! Garrett isn't worth dying over!
This isn't about Garrett. I pull free, surprised by the strength in my voice. This is about me. About taking control of my own life for once. I'm tired of being weak, Sienna. I'm tired of being everyone's punching bag.
You're not weak—
Yes, I am! Look at me! I gesture at myself—thin, pale, exhausted. Moira has been poisoning me for years. Did you know that? She's been putting wolfsbane in my food to keep me weak so I couldn't challenge Lyanna. So I'd be grateful for scraps. So I'd be exactly what they wanted—powerless and broken.
Sienna's face goes white. What?
I'm done being her victim. Tonight, I face the Moon Goddess. Whatever happens, happens.
Kaia—
Sienna! Lyanna's voice screeches from the dining room. Why are you talking to the help? Garrett's here! Come meet your future brother-in-law properly!
Brother-in-law. The knife twists deeper.
Sienna looks torn between staying with me and dealing with Lyanna. We're not done talking about this.
There's nothing to talk about. My mind is made up.
She leaves reluctantly, and I finish preparing breakfast like a good little servant. I carry trays to the dining room where Garrett sits beside Lyanna, his arm around her shoulders. He barely glances at me.
Three years. Three years of sneaking around, of stolen kisses and whispered promises. All for nothing.
I serve them in silence, invisible once again.
Kaia, you missed a spot on this fork, Moira says loudly, holding up perfectly clean silverware. Take it back and wash it properly.
Humiliation tactic. Make me run back and forth like a dog.
Yes, stepmother.
In the kitchen, I lean against the counter and breathe. Twenty hours now. Just twenty more hours.
Martha slips me a piece of bread when no one's looking. Eat this at least. You need your strength for whatever you're planning.
I take it gratefully, eating quickly before returning to my torture.
The morning drags on endlessly. I clean, I serve, I endure Lyanna's comments about how happy she is with Garrett. Moira watches me with those calculating eyes, probably wondering why I'm not crying yet.
By afternoon, I'm dismissed to clean the storage shed. It's backbreaking work—moving heavy boxes, killing spiders, breathing in dust that makes my lungs burn.
I'm almost done when I find it.
Hidden in the back corner, under old blankets, is a box labeled with my mother's name.
My hands shake as I open it. Inside are pictures of a beautiful woman with dark hair and kind eyes—my mother, who died giving birth to me. But there's something else: a journal.
I flip it open, reading entries written in elegant handwriting. Most are normal—daily life, pack business. Then I find an entry dated two weeks before I was born:
They're coming for me. The hunters have found out what I am. An Omega—the last of my kind. Marcus says we should run, but where would we go? If they kill me, please let my daughter survive. I've woven protection spells into her very bones. They'll hide her nature until she's strong enough to handle it. My precious girl will be powerful beyond measure—if she lives long enough to awaken.
The journal falls from my numb fingers.
Omega.
My mother was an Omega.
Which means I might be
What are you doing?
I spin around. Moira stands in the shed doorway, her face twisted with rage. She sees the journal on the ground, and something like fear flashes in her eyes.
That's none of your business, she snarls. Give it to me. Now.
This was my mother's. You have no right
She moves faster than I've ever seen her move, snatching the journal and the box. Your mother was a mistake. A freak. And you're just like her—a worthless, weak little mistake that should have died at birth.
The venom in her voice is shocking. This isn't just cruelty. This is terror.
She's afraid of me.
She's always been afraid of me.
You knew, I breathe. You knew what I was. That's why you poisoned me. You were trying to keep my Omega from awakening.
Moira's face goes pale. You don't know what you're talking about.
Don't I? That's why you married my father—to get close to my mother's bloodline. And when she died and I survived, you spent years trying to kill me slowly. But it didn't work, did it? Because tonight
Tonight, you'll do nothing. Moira's voice drops to something deadly. You'll stay in this shed, locked in, until I figure out what to do with you. Omegas are extinct for a reason, Kaia. They're too powerful, too dangerous. I won't let you destroy everything I've built.
She backs out of the shed and slams the door. I hear a lock click into place.
I'm trapped.
The Offering Rite starts in five hours, and I'm locked in a shed.
I throw myself at the door, but it doesn't budge. I search for tools, weapons, anything—but Moira cleared everything useful out years ago. The windows are too small to climb through.
Panic claws at my throat.
Then I feel it—that whisper of power I felt last night. Stronger now. Deeper. Something ancient stirring in my blood.
My mother's protection spells are breaking down.
The Omega is waking up.
I press my hands against the locked door and close my eyes, reaching for that power. It responds eagerly, flooding through my veins like liquid fire.
The door explodes outward in a shower of splinters.
I stand in the ruins, breathing hard, my hands glowing with silver light.
Holy shit.
I am an Omega.
And tonight, the Moon Goddess is going to complete my awakening.