“Auntie Isabella, I’ll carry this basket of moon berries for you!” Mason eagerly took the basket from Isabella’s hand, his fawning expression something I’d never seen on my proud Alpha cub’s face.
“Miss Isabella just needs to rest well and tend to her Omega scent, to prepare for… the future.” The Beta steward respectfully handed her a pair of slippers made from snow fox fur.
” Leave it to us.”
How ironic.
I once thought I was this pack’s Luna, silently protecting every member with my healing ability, but they took it for granted, never noticing.
And Isabella walked in, did nothing, and became the princess everyone doted on, every wolf carefully pampering her.
The Omegas whispered among themselves.
Their mind links were discreet, but my lingering Luna senses could still catch snippets.
“The Alpha is so good to Miss Isabella. That look in his eyes, so gentle it could melt you. He was never like that with Madam Aria.”
“Yeah, and the cubs only cling to her, calling ‘Auntie Isabella’ this and ‘Auntie Isabella’ that all day. I reckon this pack will have a new true Luna soon enough!”
My heart was already dead.
I ignored all of it, just quietly packed my few personal belongings, waiting for the full moon night.
Until that afternoon, my phone, which I used for non-urgent pack messages, started vibrating nonstop.
It was all messages from Isabella, sent through the pack’s public group chat.
A stream of photos and short videos, taken on her phone, documenting her so-called “fun times” at the cub training camp.
In the videos, Mason and Maya stood proudly among a group of cubs, introducing Isabella, who was beside them: “This is our… new mother! She’s a very powerful she-wolf!”
Gasps of envy rose from the other pack cubs. “Wow! Your new mother is so pretty! Her scent smells so good!”
“Your Alpha father is handsome and strong, and your new mother is beautiful and gentle. Your pack is so lucky!”
“So who usually takes care of you at the main house, prepares your food, and herbal baths?” a cub from a smaller affiliated pack asked curiously. He clearly hadn’t figured things out.
In the video, Mason and Maya’s expressions stiffened for a moment, their little wolf ears twitching uncomfortably.
Then they mumbled, “Oh, that’s… that’s an omega in our pack who looks after us. She’s not high-ranking.”
My hand suddenly trembled, and the warm water infused with calming herbs in my cup spilled all over the floor.
I slowly crouched down, looking at the wet leaves on the floor, and suddenly laughed, a laugh filled with endless desolation.
So, all these years, in their hearts, I was nothing more than a convenient, low-ranking omega—a glorified nanny.
But it didn’t matter.
This “omega nanny” was about to resign.
From now on, let their “true mother,” with her noble bloodline and sweet scent, take care of them.
