The Rejected Royal

The incessant 'Beep!' of the pack house's communication system cut through the oppressive silence of Emily's cramped room. It was Alicia, the Luna-to-be, demanding attention, as always.

"Beep! Emily! Come upstairs I need someone to make my outfit! Beep!" the disembodied voice echoed.

Emily sighed, the sound barely audible over the thumping in her chest. Tonight was the Alpha-to-be, Logan's, 18th birthday party. Every girl was obligated to attend, a cruel charade where he would choose his mate. Emily already pitied the poor soul. Logan was arrogant, self-centered, and the source of most of her misery. Alicia, however, adored him.

"Beep! I'll be right there Alicia! Beep!" Emily called back, her voice carefully neutral.

"Beep! Hurry up! It's like my wedding!! Beep!" Alicia's shrill voice returned, making Emily roll her eyes. Wedding? It was only afternoon. Alicia had all day. Still, delay meant more punishment.

Emily glanced around her tiny corner of a room, her 'closet' a heap of worn clothes. She pulled on a faded Jake from Adventure Time sweater and equally worn jeans, her converse scuffed and tired. As the pack's omega, she was responsible for all the dirty work, all the menial tasks, and all the abuse. She was the lowest of the low, a constant reminder of her parents' abandonment when she turned sixteen. She'd cried once then, and vowed never again. Not even when her fated mate rejected her, a day she'd meticulously prepared for.

"Beep! Hurry up, Emily! It's been 5 minutes! Beep!" Alicia's voice, now through 'Ed' (Emily's new name for the communication device), snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Beep! I'm sorry, I had to get ready. Beep!" Emily replied, already moving, her legs burning as she raced up the long staircase towards Alicia's opulent room. She steeled herself. Another day of torture was about to begin.