TWENTY-THREE. The Past

POV – Lillia

“Lill-pee in her pants!” One of the girls giggles. I look at her as we wait in line at the end of recess. Tears build in my eyes, but I refuse to cry.

“Yeah, Lill, you smell; go to the end of the line,” Selina says, pushing me out and giggling with her friends. Paul, standing behind me, steps forward, not allowing me back in.

“Hey!” I cry out, not happy. He shrugs and looks at Jenny, who I am standing next to.

“Like I want to stand next to you!” Jenny yells out, making those around her snigger. Reluctantly I walk to the end of the line. I notice Alex stick his foot out in hopes of tripping me as I walk past, but I’m heavy on my feet, and it doesn’t work. As I stand at the back of the line, Catherine makes a face at me, holding her nose before looking away. I take a step back and sniff myself. I don’t smell; why are they doing this?

//\\///\\\//\\

I wake with fresh tears in my eyes. My body feels heavy from my deep sleep, which surprises me. My memories were so vivid I felt like I was back at primary school again. I don’t have happy memories from primary school. They say your childhood is meant to be the happiest time of your life. Mine was just a predecessor of what my life ended up like.

I get out of bed, the smell of something yummy cooking in the kitchen pulling me along. I’m dressed in a t-shirt and undies only, and I reach the door when I realise my attire probably isn’t that appropriate, and I go to my drawers and find a pair of shorts Nubia must have put away for me. The scent leads me to the kitchen, where my Grandfather stands in front of the oven, doing something.

“That smells good. What are you making?” I ask as I stand at the kitchen door. My Grandfather turns around, a smile on his face.

“Pancakes. It was your mum’s favourite,” he grins. I nod, not agreeing or denying this. I’m learning more about my mum’s likes and dislikes here in just a few days than I ever did at Urban Wolves.

“Take a seat in the dining room. I’ll be out in a sec,” Grandad tells me.

“Okay,” I say, sniffing the yummy deliciousness before heading for the formal dining room.

I notice the dining room is already set up with plates and cutlery. There’s even a pitcher with what looks like orange juice and two glasses beside it. I pour myself a juice and sit in one of the chairs with a plate in front of it.

Grandad comes in shortly after. The pancakes are large and thin, different from the ones we serve in the restaurant.

“I’m sorry I haven’t sat down and spent time with you yet. Your arrival caused a lot of disruptions,” Grandad admits.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I apologise. Maybe we should have called him first?

“No! Not bad disruptions, I promise. Good ones. I had to call your dad and arrange for him and his guard to be here. I’ve also had to let the King and Queen know you and your mother are here. They were happy for me. I am happy for me,” Grandad smiles. I’m not listening to anything my Grandfather says, my stomach growling in hunger.

“So, are these pancakes?” I ask, looking at the thin pancake Grandad placed on my plate. I thought pancakes were thick and fluffy, like those in the McDonald’s commercials.

“Yes. There are two types of pancakes, these ones and the wrong ones. We’ve always eaten them made like this,” Grandad explains.

“Okay,” I say. I copy him and squeeze lemon juice onto the pancake, followed by white sugar. I then copy how he rolls the thin sheet-like pancake and cuts it, eating it as is.

“Oh, my goddess, this is good!” I exclaim. The lemon and sugar have that nice mix between sweet and sour. My tastebuds are tickling.

“I’m surprised your mum never made these for you. She loved them as a kid,” Grandad smiles.

“Mum only had a small budget for food. We ate a lot of bread and cups of soup because it was cheap,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders. I swear we went through every packet of powdered soup made. My favourite was the tomato.

“What about the pack’s dining hall?”

“That was only really for the high bloods. Mum and I were omegas,” I admit.

“But you would have had some meals at the packs dining hall? Surely? The Alpha and Luna put on meals for the pack sometimes?” Grandad asks. I shake my head no.

“I mean, we got to eat at the pack house for our birthdays. But we had to pay, so mum would use that money and buy us a cake instead,” I say, remembering. The food at the dining hall looked delicious, though. I always wanted to go there, but we could never afford to.

“Well, that won’t happen. You can have whatever you want at our pack dining hall,” Grandad says.

“Oh. Will I be getting a pack card, then? Nubia says I’m entitled to ten free meals,” I say. Grandad looks at me.

“You’re my granddaughter. You don’t need a card. And you can eat any time at the dining hall.”

“Yesterday, the lady at the desk wouldn’t let me in. Actually, Dorian told her to put my name on a list?”

“It is on the list. She should have asked for your name. Next time tell her your name, pull rank,” Grandad tells me.

“Okay,” I say softly.

We sit there in silence, eating our thin but yummy pancakes.

“I was wondering if you were up to a conversation this morning with me, Elijah and Beta Liam?” Grandad asks. I look at him.

“Yeah, I guess,” I say.

“You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to. We just want to learn more about the last eighteen years of your life,” Grandad says.

“Okay. I’m seventeen, but,” I reply.

“I know. We’d ask Aviary, but she’s still recovering, and the doctor wants her to rest. We can wait for her if you like….”

“No. It’s fine,” I reply. We finish eating, and I go to clean up, but Grandad stops me.

“It’s Nubia’s job to clean the Alpha wing, don’t worry,” Grandad says. I nod.

“Okay,” I reply, scratching the back of my head.

“Get ready, and we’ll go, okay?” Grandad asks. I nod, realising I’m still in the clothes I slept in.

//\\///\\\//\\

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Grandad chuckles when I shuffle in my seat. I’m sitting in an armchair opposite Grandad while Elijah sits on the couch. I’ve never been in an Alpha’s office before, and I’m taken with the room’s spaciousness. The desk is large enough to seat two people, and the computer has two screens. Opposite the desk are two chairs, and to the right is the sitting area.

Beta Liam walks in, and I’m happy to see that Danni is there with him. She smiles at me as she sits between Elijah and her mate.

“Lillia, this is our Beta, Danni, and her mate, Liam,” Grandad introduces.

“We’ve met,” Danni says proudly. I nod.

“Oh, and she’s filled you in on the… history… of the pack….” Grandad begins, looking sad.

“She told me some things about Mum, Luna Hailey and my dad,” I admit.

“She needed to know, Brent,” Danni states. Grandad nods.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see what was happening to your mother. It is my greatest regret. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her,” Grandad says. I want to say that it’s alright, that he didn’t know, but I can’t. Because of him, I grew up in a caravan, and my mother wasn’t allowed the medication she needed to help her. Because of him, I grew up being treated like dirt on someone’s shoe.

“I’m sorry I’m late. What did I miss?” Dorian asks as he walks into the room.

“Celsitinem tuam,” Grandad, Danni, Liam and Elijah say, standing and bowing. I move to stand too, but Danni quickly shakes her head at me. Dorian grabs a chair from the desk and rolls it over to where we are sitting.

“What did I miss?” he asks again.

“Danni filled Lillia in on when Aviary went missing,” Elijah says. I look at him, surprised that he knows the story as well. But, of course, he does. If he’s taking over the pack, he’d have to.

“Oh… good,” Dorian says, looking over at me.

“Well then, Lillia, tell us about Urban Wolves Pack. I haven’t heard of it before,” Grandad asks.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, trying not to look into their eyes as they watch me.

“Urban Wolves is a pack of about five-hundred members located in the outskirts of Matraville,” I begin.

“Not including children?” Danni asks. I look at her and then quickly look away.

“Including children. Urban Wolves own a block of shops, and the pack house is above them. We run some of the shops but all the other shops we rent out. They may own shops in the city as well.

Behind one side of the shops is a caravan pack, where the omegas live. Every other pack member lives in an apartment block or house nearby, but Alpha Marcus and Luna Cheryl live in the pack house.

All of us omegas live in the caravan park. There are about fifty caravans? I’m not sure. In the middle of the caravan park is the toilet block, which has showers,” I say.

“And what about your mum? What was her role in the pack?” Dorian asks.

“Mum and I are omegas. Mum worked in the laundry room during the week and in the restaurant on the weekends….”

“Your mum worked two jobs?” Danni asked.

“Yes. One of the shops we ran was a dry cleaner, so it was Mum’s job to work in it. On the weekends, she sometimes helped with the cooking and cleaning. When I turned twelve, I joined her to help pay for things….”

“Like what sort of things?” Elijah asks. I look up at him quickly before looking away.

“Books for school, pencils. School trips. Mum got paid a monthly stipend, but we only had a little left once accommodation, utilities, and pack fees came out. Mum’s car was getting old and needed repairs too. Plus, Mum owed the pack money, so she was working off that,” I say.

“Do you know how much money your mother owed?” grandad asks. I shrug my shoulders and reply with a no.

“What about your childhood? What was it like growing up?” Dorian asks. I look at him and back down again, a memory filling my head.

I remember following all the other pack kids, wanting to play their games with them. I would play with some omega kids outside at the caravan park, and sometimes they would let me join in. Sometimes the pack children would play inside, and a games room was set aside, especially for us kids. When I was six, I went in there once to play with the toys or read the books, but I got caught.

“What are you doing in here?” the Luna asked. She was holding Clark’s hand as he watched me.

“Re- re- reading,” I remember stuttering back. The book is ripped out of my hands, tearing a page as she does so.

“Know your place, omega! You will address me as Luna when you talk to me! You’re a weak wolf, just like your mother!” she yelled. She then grabbed me by the hair, yelling that I wasn’t allowed in the games room with the other children. It hurt, and I remember my mum crying when she saw my hair that night.

It was one of the places I was dragged out of as a child because I was below everyone else. I would sometimes stare from the doorway at the kids playing and having fun, wanting to join in. Eventually, I stopped. It hurt too much. The words, know your place, were often thrown at me growing up. They’re words that still haunt me today.

“No. I can’t remember my childhood,” I lie. I hated my childhood; I hated how the children in my pack and school treated me. I hated growing up. Best years of your life, my arse.

~

Edited with Grammarly