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Life Outside The Pack

A few hours later, I had managed to barrel through half of the meals left behind for the festival. My stomach was drum tight, and I Had torn up some of the tablecloths so I could tie up some food to take along with me. As an Omega slave, it wasn't as though I really had anything to my name. I had ruined whatever standing I had managed to build for myself in my search for saving, so there was no need to dawdle. 

A nagging thought in the back of my mind told me that I was letting go of too much and should beg the Alpha for my place in the pack back. But I ignored it. I was all too aware of what the outside world held in store for me, and I preferred all the roughness and chaos to the pack where I was ostracized. I would not have a warm bed to sleep in at night, sure. But at least I would also not be called 17 different variations of useless, and that made me happy.  

Looking back at everything I would be leaving behind once more, I heaved a deep sigh and continued my walk ahead. There was nothing left for me there, and I needed to find a place where I would not be treated like a mistake - or called one. The moon was almost full, and its light brightened the path up so beautifully that I took my time walking. There were so many dangers on my way, and I did not take them for granted as I plowed my way through the forest. 

I knew that we were the only pack around for miles and miles on end, and as a result, it would take me quite some time to find a place to rest my head, but I would not give up or relegate myself to the same kind of treatment I had been subjected to from my pack.

As I walked the forest floor, I remained deep in thought, choosing not to pay too much attention to my reality. As though the goddess meant to snap me out, I tripped in my feet and ripped apart the soles of my shoes. My brain flashed back to the day I was given the shoes by my former master. 

“Here you go, slave,” he had said, tossing the shoes at me. Catching them clumsily, one foot in each hand, I looked back up at him, confused. “To polish, sir?”

“No, they are for your feet. Shoes are a luxury for a slave like you.” 

Without so much as another word, he had turned away from her and continued about his day, and she had kept the shoes dear to her, cleaning them every day. 

That had been years ago, and now they had fallen apart. When I took them off, I was truly marveled at how much worse the rocks hurt my feet. They had hurt through the shoes, but I had been able to shut my eyes and weather the storm. Now that I was completely without the luxury of shoes. Funny how even when I had lived with my master, I had known that shoes were a privilege. I had just forgotten how great of privileges they were. 

The woods were dark and the shadows seemed to take shapes of their own, and I felt fear begin to crawl into my shoulders. I had never been this far away from the rest of my pack before, and once again I felt the voice in my head asking me to turn back around and plead for my place in society back. 

Yet again, I knew I had to find a place to tuck in for the night. It was dark, and as an Omega, I did not know how to transform or keep myself safe. I had never needed to learn any survival skills, so everything was a lot more difficult for me. I knew I would make things work, that much was certain, but the novelty was rattling and left me doubting what I believed. 

A few minutes later, I found myself a tree with a wide trunk. It seemed to have grown tall and lifted its own roots, so there was a cavern under it where I could sleep. In front of it was a small fireplace which looked like someone had lit it and moved on, and I said a little prayer of thanks to the goddess before crawling into the open space. 

Whoever it was had laid a bed of leaves and even made a pallet with some of the grass tendrils, so I had a lot of comfort. It hit me then, how much more comfortable I was in that hollow tree than I was while I was a slave. Finally safe, my body crumpled to the ground and I started to cry, the reality of the last few hours sinking into my brain finally. 

I had finally met my mate, gotten the opportunity to have my life changed, my situation altered, and somehow I had tanked it and made things worse than they had previously been. I looked around the hollow tree with the moonlight as a guide, and asked myself if this was what I wanted for my life.

I immediately knew that I wanted more and this was not all that there was for me, so I began to make a plan. I had not spoken the entire day, and I wanted to be sure that I still had the gift of speech. 

“What a day,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I had let it grow out for the last few years, but now I was tired. Grabbing the knife I had tied up with my food, I hacked off my hair haphazardly, hoping it didn't look completely terrible in the morning light. 

Free of that weight, I fluffed up the pallet that was serving as my pillow and laid my head against it, falling right asleep. I could not go back to the pack anymore, so the only way forward for me was to find somewhere else I belonged. The food I had stolen from the pack might not last me too long, so I undid the table cloth and tried to take account of what I had packed. 

I had half of a chicken and some fruits and vegetables, and I knew that the chicken would rot in a few hours. There was nothing I could do about it so I decided to go to bed, hoping the morning would bring better things for me.

Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Lola Rondon
I don’t understand why she did that to herself -
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