The air thrummed with a nervous energy, a heavy blanket of anticipation settling over the Crescent Pack. Today was the day of the Renewal, the bi-annual ceremony where our women were offered to the dragons. I, Freyja, an Omega with white hair and a perpetually bruised spirit, was tasked with serving the high table. It was a small mercy, I thought, to be spared the public display of potential mating.

My hands trembled slightly as I navigated the bustling hall, a tray laden with food and drinks. Alpha Jareth, our pack leader, sat at the head table, his imposing presence a constant reminder of the strict order we lived under. Beside him, his daughter, Diana, watched with a smirk that promised trouble.

Just as I neared their table, a sudden, deliberate shove sent me stumbling. The tray, along with its contents, crashed to the floor with a sickening clatter. Food and drink splattered across Alpha Jareth’s expensive garments. My eyes, wide with terror, met his cold, furious gaze. Diana’s laughter echoed in my ears, sharp and triumphant.

“I’m truly sorry, Alpha,” I pleaded, tears already stinging my eyes. But her hand, swift and hard, connected with my cheek. “Apologize right now!” she hissed, her voice dripping with malice. Another slap. “I said apologize right now!” The blows kept coming, each one a fresh wave of agony. I crumpled, unable to speak, the humiliation burning hotter than the sting on my face.

“We have guests coming,” Alpha Jareth’s voice cut through the noise, devoid of warmth. “Finish your tasks or find somewhere else. You’re causing a disturbance.” His words were a dismissal, a sentence. Guards seized me, dragging me away from the watchful eyes of the pack, towards the familiar darkness of the punishment room.