REJECTED AND REDEEMED

CHAPTER 1: The Unwanted Omega.

Hazel crouched on the cold stone floor, her body worn from endless chores. The Shadow Moon pack's mansion loomed above, a place of cruelty and indifference. The scrub brush felt heavy in her hands, a reminder of her desperation.

The three maids stormed in, their faces twisted with disdain.

"Look at her, craggling like a runt." One of them sneered.

Another other kicked Hazel's bucket of washing water, spilling it on the floor.

"Lazy omega can't even show a single strength." she spat.

The blonde one yanked Hazel's hair back and whispered.

"You're nothing but a worthless piece of sh*t."

Hazel's vision blurred as she felt the weight of her insignificance. She was a ghost, invisible and insignificant. The spark within her flickered weakly. She whispered a silent plea,

Get up, Hazel... please, just get up.

But her body remained frozen.

Hazel was a nineteen-year-old girl without a wolf. She was a laughing stock in the pack, and even children looked at her with disdain. She was an orphan, abandoned by her parents at the pack border. People said they couldn't keep up with the bad luck she brought upon them and hated her for no reason.

Hazel pushed open the creaking door to her room, a dingy cell in the pack's forgotten corner. The cold floor awaited her. Rats and roaches scratched and scurried into motion. The air reeked of rot and neglect. She slid down the wall, knees drawn tight to her chest. Tears threatened, but she'd cried oceans already. The rats crept closer, silent witnesses to her pain.

Her throat and eyes ached from crying. She undressed to take her night bath, her patched and bruised skin a testament to her packmates' abuse. She was barely fed, eating once a day, and not even allowed to eat remnants from plates.

As she stepped into the dingy bathroom, the cracked mirror reflected a stranger's face – swollen eyes, bruised cheek, and a whisper of hope lost in the shadows. She winced, turning away from the reflection. The cold water numbed her skin, a brief respite from the ache within.

Wrapped in a tattered towel, she returned to her cell, rats scurrying for warmth. The night air clenched tighter. Tomorrow loomed as an endless cycle of drudgery and scorn for her. But on her twentieth birthday, just a few hours away, she had cling to hope. Maybe, just maybe, her wolf would emerge, strong and fierce. Maybe she would find a mate, one who'd shield her from this cruelty.

Hazel curled tighter, eyes closing in the dark. In the silence. She smiled hoping everything would get better soon. While Hazel was lost in her dreams, a harsh voice cut through the darkness –

"Hazel! Get up, you lazy mutt!"

It was the head maid, standing over her with a bucket of icy water, which she promptly poured over Hazel's curled-up form. Hazel jolted awake, gasping, as the cold water hit her like a slap.