Jaxon
The dungeon doors opened, and the harsh daylight caused me to flinch.
"Move!" The guard escorting me barked. Grudgingly, I shuffled into the line of Omegas making their way out of the dungeon. My body ached in ways I had never experienced before. I still believed I was trapped inside a dream. It was the only explanation that made sense.
As soon as we were clear of the dungeon, I lifted my chin instinctively and squinted. The packhouse stood in the distance, and I took two determined steps in its direction.
As soon as I broke away from the line, the crack of a whip split the air, and pain exploded across my back. The force knocked me forward, and I stumbled to my knees, letting out a cry of agony.
"Stay in line, Omega!" a guard snarled.
I turned slowly, rage blazing through me. "Do you know who you are speaking to?"
The guard's lip curled as he raised the whip again in warning. Still, I rose stiffly and stepped back into line.
We were driven down a sloping path that veered away from the central compound until we were shoved towards the Omega quarters. Groans of relief echoed among the Omegas as they rushed to their homes, where others greeted them. I wandered for a while before I found the only unoccupied room.
I stared at the empty room. The mattress sagged in the middle, and the blanket looked as though it had not been washed in weeks.
"This is unacceptable," I said, the words slipping out before I could restrain them.
A few Omegas nearby snorted.
"He is truly insane." One of them muttered.
I turned sharply toward the man who had spoken, and he sneered at me.
"You will show respect when you address me," I snapped.
He stared at me for a long moment and then burst into laughter. A few others joined in. The audacity of it rendered me speechless for several seconds. I forced myself to breathe slowly. Panicking would solve nothing.
Barely ten minutes later, a shrill horn sounded outside.
"Work detail!" a taskmaster shouted from the gate. "All of you, out!"
We were herded once more, this time toward the outer fields beyond the territory. I kept my head down, observing the subtle hierarchies among the taskmasters.
They assigned us to different groups. Some were sent to scrub the courtyards. Others to clean the stables. A large portion—including me—was directed toward the logging grounds near the forest's edge.
They handed me a thick rope and gestured toward a freshly cut tree trunk. I bent to lift it and nearly collapsed. My strength was not what it had been. I gritted my teeth and pulled, but the log barely shifted.
"Move!" the taskmaster snapped.
I tried again, pouring every ounce of will into the effort. The wood scraped forward a few inches before my arms trembled violently.
"Pathetic," someone muttered behind me.
Heat flooded my face: I had crushed rival Alphas beneath my heel, fought rogues twice my size, and emerged victorious. And now I could barely drag a single log.
"Are you trying to get us punished? The quota must be met before dusk." Someone growled.
Grunting, the taskmasters reassigned us and put heavy timber beams across our shoulders in groups of four and ordered us toward the northern courtyard.
We had barely taken a few steps when my grip faltered, and the timber slipped slightly on my shoulder.
"Hold it steady!" one of the Omegas beside me hissed angrily.
"I am holding it," I snapped.
He shot me a venomous look. "You are slowing us down."
Just then, it slipped from my grip and crashed onto its side.
"You worthless fool!" The task master roared, striking me with his whip.
Pain exploded along my spine, and I collapsed with a cry.
"Why does he not learn?" someone muttered. "He gets us all into trouble."
"Because of him, we will be made to work through the night," another spat.
"That's the problem," another snapped. "He's dragging everyone behind and causing trouble."
"I require warriors for this task," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Summon them. I am your Alpha."
The taskmaster's expression darkened. The clearing went silent, and then everyone burst into laughter.
In a whoosh, he struck me across the face with the back of his hand.
"You will not use that title again," he growled.
"I will," I shot back.
Snarling, another of the guards drove his fist into my abdomen. Another blow followed to my jaw. I curled instinctively in rage and humiliation.
I felt the urge to roar and rip out someone's throat, but I lacked the power. By midday, I understood that this nightmare would not dissolve simply because I willed it to.
When we finally returned to the quarters in a sluggish line. I was barely upright. I sank onto the miserable cot assigned to me and stared at the opposite wall.
This was insanity. No one remembered me. No one acknowledged my rank. Even my wolf refused to answer my call with the strength it once had. I closed my eyes and reached inward, but no response came.
A surge of frustration ripped through me, and I stood abruptly.
"I will not remain silent," I declared to the room. "I am Alpha Jaxon, and I will not be reduced to this."
"Shut up," someone snapped from across the room. "We're tired of your ravings."
"I will reclaim what is mine," I said, my voice rising despite myself.
A taskmaster appeared in the doorway, drawn by the noise.
"Are you still making claims?" he asked with weary annoyance.
"Take me to the packhouse. Now." I demanded.
The room went utterly still.
"That can be arranged," he smirked, then turned to one of the guards lingering outside.
"Report him," he ordered. "Tell the Alpha we have a persistent problem."
The guard nodded and disappeared down the corridor.
The taskmaster looked back at me with open disdain.
"Perhaps," he said lightly, "the Alpha will finally decide what to do with you."
I lifted my chin despite the blood drying at the corner of my mouth.
Yes. Take me to him. Let me see the male who believes he has stolen my throne. Let me look into his eyes. And then we will see who truly belongs in that seat.