Without even a second's hesitation, I start packing. My hands move on their own, shoving the few belongings I have into the small bag that has sat in the corner of my room for years.
Maybe after this, I can talk to the manager, tell him I'm leaving, and he can find someone else to take my place.
I don't want to think twice about it. If I stop to second-guess, I might never go through with it.
People fight for the chance to work here, it's the kind of opportunity others dream about their whole lives. To serve the royal family, to walk these polished halls, to be close to the Alphas… and for the girls, especially, the idea of being near Hillary is almost like being blessed by the moon goddess herself.
They'd kill for a chance to stand where I've stood.
So, of course, anyone hearing I want to resign from here would be shocked. Maybe even think I've lost my mind.
It's not easy to get into this place. They don't just let any omega in. And me? I can't even remember exactly how I ended up here in the first place.
My earliest memories are of growing up here and working these halls, carrying trays, sweeping floors, and trying to stay invisible when the high ranks passed by. This palace is the only home I've ever known.
But maybe it's time to walk away. Even if the reason is nothing but raw, unfixable pain.
Maybe outside these walls, I can breathe again. Maybe I can learn to stand on my own, to live without the constant ache in my chest every time I see him.
Maybe I can do something else, anything else besides serving people who would never see me as more than a servant.
I don't have much that belongs to me here. My life has been lived in borrowed spaces, in the corners of rooms I'm not supposed to linger in.
So within seconds, I'm done packing. The bag sits there, pathetically small, but heavy with the weight of every memory I'm trying to leave behind.
I don't even get a moment to breathe. My door bursts open without so much as a knock, and the manager's face appears in the gap.
"Hey, have your ears stopped working? All servants to the council room in seconds!" he barks, his tone making it sound less like an instruction and more like an accusation.
I bite back the urge to snap at him. Ugh. What now? I'm not going. I've already decided... I'm done. I'm not going to be part of any of this anymore.
"Actually, I was just about to come to talk to you about somethi..."
"Talk to me later about whatever you want to talk about. Join the others." He waves a hand impatiently like my words are nothing but buzzing flies in his ear.
"As you know, I'm not feeling well, ca..."
He cuts me again..
"Aria. The exact number of servants is needed in the council room right now," he cuts me off sharply. "So just drag yourself there as fast as possible. Whatever else you want to do or say can't be that important. You're standing there steady on your feet, arguing with what you're told, so I doubt you're even sick. Do the necessary."
And with that, he storms away, leaving me burning with the kind of rage that makes my fists itch.
For a moment, I actually picture punching him square in the face, letting every ounce of my anger land in that single blow.
But instead, I swallow hard and walk toward the council room. I don't even bother hurrying. The hallways are already empty, meaning I'm late, everyone else has already gone.
When I push the heavy door open, every head turns toward me at once.
The servants are lined up in perfect rows, neat and silent, the way we always are. I've never realized until this moment just how much we resemble soldiers awaiting orders, except we don't fight for ourselves, only for the ones above us.
I walk further in, my steps heavy, and bow stiffly. First to the new Alpha and his Luna. Then to the old Alpha and Luna, who sit watching everything with unreadable expressions.
I don't look at Hillary. I refuse to look at him. I can feel him though, looking at me, standing at the front, side by side with his mate. That image alone makes something in me twist painfully.
Hillary's mother rises from her seat, moving with the easy grace of someone born into power. Her gaze sweeps over us like she's inspecting a line of goods rather than people.
"My daughter-in-law will be staying here for the next two days," she begins, her voice crisp and unyielding. Wow. Daughter in law even when hey haven't married yet. Some people are just born to shine their own lives... "That means she'll need one servant to be of great help to her with everything she needs. And… ugh, why am I even bothering to explain? You all know what you're here for and what your work is."
She glances at Victoria, the future Luna, then back to us. "So she will go ahead and choose whoever she wants to be that close."
Her tone sharpens as she continues. "Also, as you all know, the full moon is due next week. This time there will be many activities... my son's wedding ceremony, as well as his swearing-in as your new Alpha. I expect you are already preparing for the busy days ahead. We expect perfection. Nothing more, nothing less."
Every word lands like a hammer in my chest. My lungs feel too small, like the air is being squeezed out of me with every syllable she speaks.
My vision wavers at the edges. If I collapse here in front of them all, maybe it would be easier than standing upright and pretending this doesn't hurt this much.
Hillary's words from only hours ago slam back into my mind with the same force they had when he first spoke them. "Who said I'm going to leave you for her?! I haven't chosen her, so why are you acting like I already left you?"
The echo of them makes my steps falter, my balance shift as though the floor beneath me has tilted. I feel weaker than I have all day, like my body is suddenly too heavy to hold up.
He said he wasn't going to choose her. He said it with certainty, almost with anger, as if the very thought insulted him.
So what is this I'm looking at now? The two of them standing side by side, shoulders close, silent but in sync.
It's the quiet that gets me, the kind of quiet that belongs to people who already understand each other, who have left the chaos behind and stepped into something steady.
He looks like he's already put me in the past. Like he's begun his new life without even glancing back.
Snap out of it, Aria. The words crack through me, sharp, almost scolding. I want to believe it's my wolf speaking, rising up to drag me out of this spiral. But no. It's not her. It's just me, trying desperately to steady my own shaking mind.
I don't know why my wolf refuses to react, why she stays so silent it feels like she's vanished.
Maybe she can't take this kind of pain, maybe it's too much even for her. So she hides, curling deep inside me where nothing can touch her, leaving me to bear this alone.
And it's so not fair of her. She was always there before, right at the front, urging me toward Hillary, pushing me into his arms. Now, when I need her the most, she won't even stir.
"Go ahead, my dear," Hillary's mother's voice snap me out of my thoughts again, her smile aimed at Victoria. An invitation to choose.
I stare at the floor, praying this ends quickly. I can feel Hillary's gaze on me... hot, heavy, impossible to ignore. I hate myself for noticing. Hate myself for wanting to look up and see if his expression gives away even a sliver of what he's feeling.
But I don't.
I stand still, jaw clenched, heart hammering so hard it feels like it might shake my entire body.
I've stood in this line hundreds of times before, waiting for orders. But this is the first time it feels like I'm standing here not as a servant, but as prey.. cornered, exposed, and seconds away from being gutted in front of everyone.