Who are you?
ITHRA
“For someone who is at the mercy of the alpha, you speak out of turn too often.” Azriel said as we trudged the hallways.
So he could speak? Maybe I needed to do things like this with Zadok more often, anything to get his moody beta to speak more often than growl.
Unable to hold my tongue, I fired back, “For someone who doesn’t like me, you are speaking to me a lot more than usual.”
“And why would you say I don’t like you?” He spoke like it was the most bizarre thing he’s heard in a while.
“You didn’t deny it.” I pointed out,
He gave me a look I couldn’t quite understand, “You are still alive and you are not in chains.”
“Yeah, but no thanks to you.” I said, and he rolled his eyes, knowing there was no winning with me.
When he didn’t say anything, I continued. “Are you always like this or is this just me?”
“It’s just you.”
I didn’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that. And it did sound offensive.
“Care to explain what I did to warrant you treating me like dirt? Not that I care, just genuinely curious.” I shrugged.
“I am not obligated to answer your silly questions, witch.” He growled.
And there it was, the beta I knew was back.
“I’m guessing that’s the problem. Because I am a witch, you and your entire pack are having period cramps knowing I’m still in your midst, walking free and alive.” I instigated, but he remained silent and hastened his footsteps.
We continued on the journey to no man’s land and as we walked through the halls, a lot of people, or wolves, walked past us, each and everyone of them greeting Azriel with a bow or an acknowledging ‘beta’.
Meanwhile, I, on the other hand, was bombarded with a lot of scorned looks, snarls, hisses and sometimes growls. It was clear their ‘love’ for me ran deep.
I noticed their eyes always drifted to the wristband on my hand – the one that hindered a witch from using her powers and the biggest joke of the century to me.
If only they knew.
I also noticed they had a weird aversion to my fiery red hair. Almost like they were intimidated by it, perhaps they thought it held something dangerous, or dare I say – bewitching.
Coupled with the fact that I wasn’t the happiest in the halls, it was a party of mean looks and ugly faces as we went further to wherever I was being taken to.
Soon enough, we get to our destination. And shockingly, it’s the kitchen. I barely hold in my laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
I guess while doing their background check on me, someone missed the fact that I was a terrible cook. They were in for a surprise, I thought.
We got to a point and Azriel stopped, speaking to someone I didn’t see, “Gatria, take her in, and fix her somewhere for the day.”
Finally, I connected eyes with the headmistress I knew so well.
“Yes Beta.” She replied with a bow, while he walked out of sight. She beckoned to me, “Come child.”All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.
“Ithra.” I murmured angrily,
“What?” She asked, looking genuinely lost as to why I was suddenly throwing glares her way.
“My name is Ithra, now quit calling me a child.” I answered with a pointed look.
I could see her struggle to hide her laughter, and surprisingly, I wanted to laugh too. I didn’t though.
“Alright, Ithra. Let’s get to work.”
Without a word, I followed her to the inner parts of the kitchen. Of course, meeting more snarky wolves on the way. Matter of fact, this place was crawling with them.
“This is Morgan.” Gatria said, and only then did I realize we had company. “She is going to oversee your work here And afterwards, give you your wages.” She explained.
I looked up at the wolf that dared to bear my sister’s name, and she flashes me her canines – not in the friendliest manner.
“Wages?” I asked in confusion.
This was supposed to be a punishment.
“Yes. In this pack, everyone gets paid for the work they do,”
I shot her an eyebrow and she added, “even prisoners.”
If I didn’t know who they were and what they stood for, I’d almost believe they were a decent pack. Paying their hostages for work? Outstanding!
“So what exactly am I to do around here?” I asked after a minute, ready to get things over with.
“Morgan over here will lead you to your work station.” Gatria finished and walked away, leaving me in the hands of yet another wolf that didn’t care for my existence.
She walked away too, and I followed without a word until we got to the inner parts of the kitchen.
“You will work here.” She snarled, “You are not permitted to leave until the job is done. I’ll be watching.”
With that, she walked away, leaving me and a mountain of dirty dishes. I find myself wishing I was cooking instead. Of course they found a way to give me the job I despised the most after cooking.
I stood alone for a while, reflecting deeply on Zadok’s words. They were teaching me table manners alright? Well played.
Grumbling, I began my job and just a few seconds into it, someone walks into the room.
My first instinct is to protect myself, so I pick up a knife, ready to kill anything that thought to play jokes on me.
“Hey..” The voice says warily, knowing I was armed.
I turned around and met with a little girl with pearly white hair.
“Who are you?” She asked, and I genuinely saw the confusion in her face.
I drop my weapon and answer curtly, “I am assigned to work here.”
“Me too.” Her reply surprises me, “I have been working here alone for the past six years.”
What? I looked at the high and endless stash of dirty plates and genuinely wondered how she had been doing this alone for the past six years.
That ought to be a form of torture.
“Oh really,” I find myself short of words.
“Yes.” She says and picks up a glove.
In no time, she stood beside me, silently washing dirty dishes.
“My name is Althea.” She says after a minute, and I can sense she really hoped I talked to her.
There was something about her, something that made me genuinely want to know her. And for the records, she’s the first one that doesn’t seem to mind having a witch around, or perhaps she didn’t know I was one.
Nevertheless, I answered. “My name is Ithra.” I didn’t know what possessed me to add, “A witch from the Celts Coven.”