~Former life ~
MASIHAH POV
The sleek, obsidian-paneled gates of Alpha Academy College loomed ahead, framed by towering iron spikes and immaculate landscaping that screamed elite wealth. It was the premier institution in the territory, a place where future Alphas, Betas, and high ranking elites were trained to govern. For someone like me, an omega whose existence was tolerated only as a utility, walking through those gates felt less like starting a higher education and more like entering an executioner’s courtyard.
The pack car glided smoothly to a halt in front of the grand administrative steps. Ethan was out of the vehicle in a flash, jogging around to open the passenger door for Clara. He offered her his arm with all the knightly devotion of a fairy-tale prince, shielding her from the imaginary hardships of the morning air.
"Careful, sweetheart," Ethan murmured, his voice laced with the soft adoration that never, ever came my way. "The courtyard is crowded today. Stay close to me so nobody bumps into you."
Clara stepped out, her slender frame draped in her pristine pastel sweater, looking every bit the delicate, sickly angel the pack believed her to be. She leaned against Ethan’s side, her long eyelashes lowered modestly as a group of passing students turned their heads to look.
Meanwhile, I fumbled with the heavy latch of the rear door, my fingers clumsy and stiff. The stack of leather-bound textbooks I was forced to carry pressed hard against my chest, making it difficult to catch my breath. I pushed myself out of the car, my heavy boots hitting the paved driveway with a dull, clumsy thud. My wide hips and soft, thick thighs strained against the fabric of my plain oversized trousers, the only clothes my mother allowed me to have, deliberately chosen to make me look as frumpy and unappealing as possible.
"Are you planning to sleep right there on the pavement, Masihah?" Helen snapped, rolling down the front passenger window, her face twisted into a harsh scowl. "Look at you, lingering like a dark cloud over your sister's special day. Pick up those books properly and hurry inside. If you make Clara late for her orientation, you'll be spending the entire weekend locked in the attic without dinner."
"Yes, Mother," I whispered, my voice sounding small and pathetic, swallowed instantly by the crisp morning breeze.
I kept my head bowed, staring at the polished tips of my scuffed shoes as I hurried to catch up. Around us, the campus was alive with students, sleek, athletic she-wolves with toned legs and flawless posture, and towering male wolves laughing loudly as they compared their class schedules. Every step I took felt heavy, my breathing shallow and labored as the physical fatigue of my supposed "anemia" weighed down my limbs. It was a slow, invisible exhaustion that had been plaguing me for weeks, a deep, bone weary sluggishness that made even the simplest movements feel like wading through wet cement.
As we crossed the grand marble lobby toward the main lecture hall, the whispers started. They always started whenever I was around.
"Look... isn't that Helen and Todd’s daughter? The one they took in?"
"Which one? The pretty beta girl?"
"No, idiot. The other one. The one lagging behind with the stack of books. God, what is wrong with her build? Is she even a wolf? She looks like an overstuffed sack."
"Shh, keep your voice down. That's Clara’s sister. Rumor has it she's got some kind of glandular issue. Totally sluggish, completely uncoordinated. Can you imagine having a sister built like a draft horse when you're a delicate beta beauty?"
The snickering drifted into my ears like a swarm of stinging gnats. My face burned hot with humiliation, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I instinctively hunched my shoulders, trying to make my curvy frame smaller, trying to hide the wide sweep of my hips and the softness of my stomach beneath the heavy stack of books. But the more I tried to shrink, the heavier the burden felt.
Clara heard the whispers, too. I saw the microscopic twitch of her lip, a fleeting, triumphant smile that vanished the second she turned back to look at me with wide, sorrowful eyes.
"Are you alright, Masihah?" Clara asked loudly enough for the surrounding students to hear, her voice dripping with a sickly-sweet, performative pity. "You're breathing so heavily. If the books are too heavy for you, I can try to carry one... even though my chest hurts so much today."
Immediately, a chorus of sympathetic murmurs rippled through the nearby students.
"Oh, look at how sweet Clara is."
"Literally an angel. And look at the other one, just glaring at her like a bitter troll."
"Can you believe Clara has to deal with that ungrateful beast every single day?"
Ethan stepped closer to Clara, casting a venomous glare in my direction. "Don't waste your sympathy on her, Clara. She loves playing the victim. If she spent half as much time working on her fitness and attitude as she does feeling sorry for herself, she wouldn't look like a clumsy embarrassment."
Father, who had walked us to the entrance of the lecture hall before heading to the pack elders' meeting, didn't say a single word. He simply adjusted his jacket, gave Clara an affectionate pat on the head, and looked at me with cold, detached disappointment.
"Don't cause a scene, Masihah," Father said quietly, his voice devoid of any paternal warmth. "Your sister has a bright future ahead of her at this academy. Do not drag her down with your inability to handle basic tasks. Carry her materials to her desk, sit in the back row where you won't be seen, and stay out of everyone's way."
"Yes, Father," I murmured again, my heart aching with a hollow, crushing pain.
They walked into the massive, sunlit lecture hall together, a picture perfect family unit leaving their ugly, defective burden behind in the corridor. I stood frozen for a second, my arms trembling violently under the weight of the leather bound books. My chest felt tight, a sharp, clawing pain squeezing my lungs.
“Just keep your head down”, I told myself, blinking back the hot tears. “Endure it. Survive today.”
I shuffled into the lecture hall, finding the very last seat tucked away in the darkest, most isolated corner of the back row. I dumped Clara’s books onto her designated desk near the front, enduring the quiet snorts and pointed glares of my classmates as I limped back to my lonely corner.
As the professor walked in and began writing the syllabus on the whiteboard, I rested my forehead against the cool, scratched wooden surface of my desk. My body felt impossibly heavy, drained of vitality, wrapped in a suffocating fog of exhaustion. I had no idea that this exhaustion wasn't natural, nor did I know that my family’s growing obsession with Clara’s "worsening health" was secretly laying the foundation for a much darker, more horrifying plot against my life.
I sat in the shadows, listening to the muffled lecture, letting the cold hatred take deeper root in my heart.