Not Just an Omega

"I'm sorry."

Chapter 16

   "Kaila?" A soft voice whispers. LeAnne? Is that you?

   "Kaila..." The voice calls distantly, getting closer. LeAnne, I'm here! Please, come find me, rescue me...

   "Kaila!"

   I snap my eyes open as a voice screams in my ear, realizing again that Leanne's gone. Wincing against the glare of the sun, I close my eyes again and lift my hand to rub them. Or try to, at least. My arms feel like they're filled with lead—and my legs too, now that I think of it.

   "Max?" I croak softly. I squint and try to look around, finding out that it hurts to move my neck. "Max, where are you?"

   "I'm here, Kaila," she says as she hovers over me, her silhouette blocking the sun. I sigh sadly as I inspect her face. Her left eye is swollen shut and turning purple, one of her teeth in the top row is missing, and her face just has bruises and cuts all over it. Forcing my hand to move, I reach up to touch her hair, to do something, but she flinches back and stands up.

   "You've been out for approximately four days. They, um, they broke your cheekbone. You probably have a concussion from the impacts, and your face is all scratched up," Max informs me, looking down at her fingers. I notice her hoodie has a new tear in the sleeve, and her cuffs are coming undone. I can only imagine what I look like.

   "How are you?" I ask, realizing that it doesn't hurt to talk. Or breath. Or move my jaw. "How do I not feel in pain? Am I just numb?"

   "One, I can handle a little scuffle," Max replies, counting on her fingers. "Two because I kidnapped and forcefully dragged Laney over here to fix your fracture. And three, yeah, you're probably also numb. Opium is a painkiller, y'know."

   "You drugged me?"

   She folded her arms and grinned—more like a grimace, technically. "You're welcome. They'll wear off in a few sun strokes, but it explains why you can hardly move your limbs. We're lucky to be able to still function properly. Those wolves were light on us."

   "Right, light..." I trail off, wondering what Max has really gone through to consider this light. She helps me into a sitting position and leans me against a tree. "I'm sorry. Max, I'm so, so sorry. I led them here, I didn't watch my trail, and I led them here. Max—I led them to your den!" I cry, blinking back tears. "I wasn't thinking after I got back from the Alpha's den. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have gotten beaten up, your tooth wouldn't have gotten punched out, and, and—"

   "It's okay."

   "What?" I stop, straining to hear her whisper that it was okay.

   "It's not your fault because I knew this would happen," she replies, lifting her head up. Her eyes are distant, her voice low. "The wolves would come for your beat you up, after meeting with the Alpha."

   "But... why?"

   "The Alpha does this to every Omega that is new to a pack. New Omegas are tested to see if they are eligible to be filtered into low ranking occupations. Cleaning up after harvests, fire control, any grueling task an Omega could do instead of facing death. I was in charge of getting rid of waste baskets and buckets—"

   "What kind?" I interrupt. She wrinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out.

   "Every kind." I shudder. She continues, "It wasn't great, but as long as I was alive, I was well off. When I first met Tree-Dweller, he told me of these missions the Alpha assigns us to. If we come back alive, it means no more servant work."