Tonight is the 25th coronation of the Alphas. The triplets. Kael. Rowan. Damon. Three brothers who now lead the Silvermoon Pack. In every pack, there is a clear order, a harsh chain of power. The Alpha rules with strength and fear. They are the pack’s leader, the one who shapes its future with iron hands. The Beta is second in command, loyal and fierce, always ready to back up the Alpha. The Delta commands the warriors, the strongest fighters, guardians of the pack. The Luna is the heart, the soul, who keeps the pack together with quiet strength. The Omega is last, weak, often scorned, and used as a target for cruelty. And then there’s me. I’m none of these. I’m a human, living among wolves. I don’t know where I truly belong. My whole life, I’ve believed I’m just a weak human, lost among creatures stronger than me. The pack treats me like dirt. I’m a slave. A shadow beneath their feet. No one looks at me as a person, just someone to serve, to use, to ignore when convenient. I carry their burdens and swallow their insults without a single word. When they’re angry, their hands find me, a shove here, a harsh slap there, like I’m nothing more than an object. Their eyes flash with contempt, their voices sharp with cruel jokes at my expense. I’m the one who cleans the dirt they track through the hall, who fetches their drinks, who stands silent while they laugh and whisper about me behind my back. No one asks if I’m tired. No one asks if I’m hurt. I’m invisible, except when it suits them to remind me I belong beneath their notice. Even the weakest Omega has a place, but me? I’m outside the chain, unwanted, unworthy. Sometimes I wonder if they remember I have a name. Even the youngest pups grow up learning they are better than I. However, the entire pack was gathered to celebrate the three Alphas. A grand hall glowing with silver lanterns, rich velvet banners dancing with the breeze, the scent of roasted meat and aged wine drifting in the air. Laughter echoed, music floated, and I... I stood by the side, holding a tray filled with drinks, dressed in the plain brown dress all servants wore. I shouldn’t have come. I knew what they would do to me. But I came anyway. Because they would be here. The triplets. And despite everything, despite the pain and the fear and the bitter truth that I was nothing to them... I had always liked them. Ever since I was young. Since that day, they haven’t remembered. I stood near the entrance, gripping the tray tightly as I watched guests walk by in shimmering gowns and polished boots. No one saw me, not really, but they still found time to sneer. "Who let that thing in here?" "She probably spit in the wine." "Don’t touch her, you might catch human." Their laughter stung more than the words. I took a deep breath and moved through the crowd, balancing the tray carefully. I whispered polite greetings and offered drinks, ignoring the hands that pushed, the glares that burned. I had done this a hundred times. Tonight wasn’t different. Until she arrived. Belinda. The Beta’s daughter. Beautiful, tall, and cruel. Her silver gown hugged her perfectly, her dark hair curled like a queen’s, her smile sharp as a blade. She walked with pride, knowing every eye was on her. And why wouldn’t they be? She was meant to be Luna. Everyone said so. Betas give birth to Lunas. It was tradition. I turned too late. I was staring at the stage as the announcer’s voice echoed through the room. "And now, our Alphas, Kael, Rowan, and Damon!"Correct content is on My eyes lifted instantly. There they were. The triplets. Tall, proud, striking. Kael, tall, muscular, tanned skin, sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes, looked like he never smiled. Rowan, fair skin, wavy dark hair, green eyes, always dressed in black. Damon, olive skin, short black hair, golden-brown eyes, sharp and intimidating presence. My heart stuttered. I forgot the tray in my hand. I forgot the world around me. And in that moment, Belinda stepped forward. We collided. The tray tipped. Red wine splashed across her silver dress like blood on snow. It took a second for my brain to catch up, to fully understand what had just happened. The glass clattered to the marble floor, the liquid spreading like a slow, damning stain. For a heartbeat, the entire room seemed to fall silent. Even the music stopped, notes cut mid-air, as if the celebration itself was holding its breath. Gasps filled the hall like a wave crashing into me. I felt hundreds of eyes settle on me at once, sharp, cold, merciless. I didn’t look up. I couldn’t. My hands were already shaking, and my knees were hitting the floor hard. The tray rolled a little before settling beside me. My heart pounded so loudly it almost drowned out the whispers rising from the crowd. "I’m so sorry," I breathed, my voice small. Too small for a place like this. "I didn’t see... I didn’t mean to..." My throat tightened as I reached for the hem of her dress, desperate to fix the mess, to scrub out my mistake like it could be undone. But it was useless. The wine soaked deep into the expensive silk, blooming like a cruel flower. I didn’t need to look to know who I had bumped into. Belinda. Perfect, cruel, powerful Belinda. She stood above me, rigid, trembling, not with shock, but rage. I could feel it rolling off her like heat from a fire. I opened my mouth to beg again, to say something, anything, when her hand came fast. A sharp crack echoed across the hall as her palm connected with my cheek. Before I could even turn my head, another sting lit up my face... Another slap. Harder than the first. Everything inside me went still.