Chapter 8: Aria

Chapter 8: Aria

After thinking long and hard about it, I decided to try one more person. I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment, but I was running out of options. Everybody else already rejected me. What was one more rejection?

I sat outside her office for thirty minutes, listening to the muffled conversation within, until the door opened and somebody stepped out. Standing, I poked my head into Mrs. Foster’s door and mustered a weak smile. “Hi, Mrs. Foster.”

The older woman looked up in surprise. “Aria. What are you doing here?”

“I was just wondering if you might need some help around here.”

The longer she stared at me, the worse I felt until her expression softened with sympathy, and she gestured for me to take a seat. “I take it the past few days have been rather rough on you.”

Just hearing her acknowledge that made me want to cry, but I’d already spent all my tears for the day. I was back to feeling empty inside like a void existed where my heart should. Sitting across from Mrs. Foster, I accepted her look of sympathy as one made out of necessity. She probably didn’t care any more than anybody else did.

“I hate to give you more bad news, but I’m not authorized to give you any work,” Mrs. Foster said. “It was different when you were training to be the Alpha Female. But now that you’re unranked, the civil reports department and branch funding management are above your access level.”

Unranked. That was a nicer way of saying I was basically an Omega.

“Besides, Mara has taken over most of what you were trained for.”

Just hearing her name was a punch to the gut. I resisted the urge to frown, keeping my face neutral, my eyes attentively on Mrs. Foster. “That’s okay. Maybe I can be your assistant or something?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t need an assistant.”

Maybe she was lying, pushing me away like everyone else. The betrayal from her cut deep, too. We’d spent so much time together in this office—her teaching me, explaining finances and accounting and bookkeeping, giving me projects and assignments, getting to know me. She knew what I was capable of, possibly more than anyone else. “Is there… anything you can recommend for me? Please, Mrs. Foster. I just need something to do. Somewhere to belong.”

The older woman held her tongue, but I could sense she was building up to another rejection. She averted her eyes to a bookshelf, and I followed her eyes out of habit. There, I saw two books piled up on the edge of the shelf, looking like they’d been placed there absent-mindedly. The two books I had checked out of the library were stolen from me last night. “Those are my books.”

“What?” Mrs. Foster blinked, confused.

I stood up and took the books. “I checked these books out of the library, and someone took them from under my cot last night in the Omegas’ quarters!” Opening the books, I scanned for the pocket at the back of the books, confirming the library stamp they’d received when I checked them out. “Where did you get them?”

“Oh, I met with our IT manager this morning. He found them in a trash can on his way to my office and left them for me to drop off at the library. I didn’t even check the names on the check-out card. We just assumed somebody stole them from the library,” explained Mrs. Foster.

Now, embers crackled to life in my chest. Whoever had stolen them was planning to make me look even worse by making it look like I’d just thrown the books out! I clutched them close to my chest and shook my head. “I need to return these to the librarian.”

Mrs. Foster gazed over at me, then her eyes brightened. “Actually, Aria, I have an idea of something you could do. You know I visit the library nearly every day to take out records and files regarding Shadow Manufacturing Industries,” she began. “I’m not the only one who has to visit the library for these things. That poor librarian runs himself ragged, trying to keep everything organized in the archives while watching the library. Maybe you can give him a hand.”

The way she lit up gave me hope for a new purpose, but as quickly as my embers were ignited, they fizzled out. “I don’t know. Nobody wants to even look at me, let alone give me a job. Besides, I’m not supposed to really be in the Lodge.”

“The archives are all the way in the basement. Nobody’s going to give you a hard time, and he’d be foolish to say no. Why don’t I come with you?”

I wanted to tell Mrs. Foster not to waste her time on me—respectfully, of course—but she was already standing up, walking around her desk for the door. And because deep inside, I really did want that job at the library, I followed her.

It already felt wrong for me to approach the Lodge. Earlier that morning, I had excused it, but coming back here again with the intention of ignoring the security guard’s warning was a whole new level of insubordination I wasn’t sure I wanted to embrace. I hovered close behind Mrs. Foster as we stepped through the front door, only for me to make eye contact with the very security guard that had dragged me out last night. I froze, wide-eyed.

He took a step forward before Mrs. Foster stopped him. “Miss Gunn has been authorized for work placement in the archives,” she said.

“Has Alpha Moore approved this?”

Mrs. Foster glanced at me in her periphery. “Yes.”

The guard grunted. “As long as she doesn’t go anywhere other than the archives, then.”

My heart raced as Mrs. Foster delivered immaculate lie after lie, leading me into the forbidden terrain of the Lodge. I scurried up beside her, asking under my breath, “What are we going to do if Oswald finds out?”

“You were only banned from the living quarters, weren’t you? You have every right to be here. It would be wrong to ban you from accessing the Lodge’s public amenities—the entire pack depends on them.”

She was right. The café, the library, and even the common room were supposedly free for all pack members to use. Although there was an obvious stigma against Omegas using the common room since many believed they took advantage of the pack, taking a place to eat and sleep without giving anything in return—as far as I was aware, there was no law saying that lower status packmates couldn’t be there.

Entering the library, we found the librarian running back and forth from one end of the counter to the other, trying to sort through a cart of books that some youngsters had left in disarray. When he heard the door open, he paused and smiled at Mrs. Foster, then grimaced at me. I was prepared for a snarky response before he then noticed the books in my hands, and his grimace vanished. “You found the books.”

“I did,” I said, tentatively placing them on the counter.

The librarian flipped them open, scanning them for any damage before nodding in satisfaction. “Very well. I’ll remove the mark on your record.”

“Actually, Jonathan, I was hoping you could do a bit more for Aria today,” said Mrs. Foster, clasping her hands politely on the counter.

The librarian looked between us, waiting.

“You were complaining to me just yesterday how overworked you are. You know as well as I do that Aria is a responsible, intelligent young woman. She knows her way around the filing system here in the library. Why don’t you send her down to the archives to help you sort everything out?”

Jonathan stiffened like a spike of ice was just driven up his spine. “Mrs. Foster, please think about what you’re asking of me.”

The older woman looked expectantly at him. “I have thought about it. Aria deserves a second chance after the… unfortunate result of her mating ceremony.”

I stared at my feet, both overcome with gratitude and fighting a swell of indignant anger, expecting as much from the librarian. It was too optimistic of both Mrs. Foster and me to think that he would be any different than anyone else.

And yet… “Very well,” he sighed. “You’re right.” Jonathan lowered his voice and leaned over the counter. “If I have to spend another day running this library between doing everyone else’s bidding, I might just go postal.”

Mrs. Foster chuckled. “I understand. Thank you, Jonathan.”

“Mm.”

Except the instant Mrs. Foster left the library, Jonathan narrowed his eyes at me, his friendly demeanor icing back into the rigidity he usually showed me. “Just because Mrs. Foster is right doesn’t mean I want to give you a job,” he said. “And it’s not really a job, alright? I’m not paying you.”

His unfriendliness made me prickle, but I swallowed my annoyance and nodded. “I don’t need pay. Just something to prove I’m not totally useless.”

The librarian opened his mouth, and I imagined him saying something like, ‘We’ll see about that,’ except over the past four years, I’d already proven my work ethic to him. He just sealed his lips and begrudgingly led me around the counter to the stairs that led down into the archives.

“Everything is organized either along those shelves or in the filing cabinets here. You can use this computer as a directory. You’re already familiar with our sorting system,” said Jonathan.

The basement opened up to a massive room with dark, wood-panelled walls, wooden beams across the ceiling, and concrete flooring. The room was illuminated by buzzing lights overhead and filled with shelves of books and binders kept safe from the rest of the pack.

“Here,” he added, tapping on a paper on the desk where the computer sat. “This is a list of all copies that need to be prepared for tomorrow.”

I nodded, skimming over the long list, assuming I’d only be responsible for collecting a few copies. Then I realized that the entire list was what I had to prepare. It had to be over twenty items, and I had to track down and photocopy all of them.

But that was nothing compared to the projects Mrs. Foster had me doing.

Jonathan was already making his way up the stairs. “Don’t bother me if you can’t figure it out. And don’t make a mess of anything, either. If it’s too much for you, you’re better off finding a job somewhere else.”

“Don’t worry,” I replied. “I think I can handle this.”

Jonathan snorted before disappearing upstairs.

All evening, I chiseled away at the list. Even though it was a lot of tedious work, it was a refreshing change from the terrible anguish I’d been suffering. It was better than just sitting and thinking about everything I’d done wrong. I began to feel like I had purpose again. And better yet, I was down in the archives where nobody could mock me or torment me.

By the time I was finished, I had a stack of papers in my arms organized by colourful tabs and folders for their designated recipients. Jonathan was tidying up and getting ready to close the library for the night as I delivered them to the counter.

“That’s all?” He tilted his head, looking over the pile. “I thought there was more.”

“I saved space by scanning the files and rearranging them onto single documents. It’ll also save paper instead of printing out a copy for every single item.”

The librarian pursed his lips. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or annoyed. “Alright. You’re free for the night, then. But I’ll need you in at 6 AM tomorrow to make sure these copies are picked up and to take more requests.”

“Got it!” I smiled, and my spirits elevated with a new sense of direction. Only after I’d walked out of the library did my stomach rumble, and I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I was so immersed in my sorrow, then my quest to find a job, then my work from Jonathan that I hadn’t even thought about eating.

Mrs. Foster reassured me that the café was still okay for me to visit. It was the only place in the villa where they served food prepared from the hunts, and since I wasn’t much of a hunter—and didn’t have a kitchen of my own—it would have to be where I’d find dinner.

Maybe my newfound purpose had blinded me to the reality of my situation.

Entering the café, everyone seated at tables or standing at the counter went silent. They stared at me, and immediately I felt the pressure of their judgment. My heart dropped. I was still permitted to use the café, wasn’t I?

One of the servers scuttled over to me, stopping me before I reached the counter. “You can’t be here,” she said. “You have to leave.”

“What?” I looked up from her at everyone else still gawking at me. Then I glimpsed my family seated at a table in the corner. All of them: my father, my mother, my three sisters, even Preston. Goosebumps rushed across my skin.

“You’re not allowed to eat in the café,” said the server. “We were told to send you away if you came in.”

“Why?” I felt anger boiling away inside me. “I—I need to eat!”

My mother narrowed her eyes. My father began to rise from the table as if fulfilling the security guard’s role of seeing me out. Except from the tension in his posture, I couldn’t imagine he would do it nicely.

“Never mind,” I muttered. “Fine. I’ll leave.”

Everyone watched me, their eyes piercing me until I left the café. Even through the windows lining the corridor, I watched them all follow me like they expected me to spit and swear and put up a fight. I glared back at them, especially my mother.

The instant Oswald banned me from the Lodge’s living quarters was the instant they had enough reason to disown me. They’d just been looking for an excuse!

As the sun sunk into the horizon, I stood outside in a sweater and jeans, fuming. They wouldn’t even let me eat. What did they expect me to do? I had no money to buy food from the vending machines. I had no car to drive into one of the nearby cities. I could barely hunt, especially with my fire-red fur.

But I supposed I had no other choice.

If I wanted to eat, I’d have to catch something myself.