radicalducati Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Katrina’s POV
I kept my head high as I walked through the corridors, ignoring the whispers.
Each step echoed down the stone hallway, sharp and deliberate. My spine stayed straight, my eyes fixed forward, even as I felt the stares. They clung to me like wet clothes, heavy and suffocating. The air was thick with judgment, and yet I didn’t let it slow me.
The news had already spread. People were already talking. I could feel their eyes on me, could hear the murmurs, the barely-concealed laughter curling through the halls like smoke.
"Did you hear? She’s an Omega now."
"Serves her right."
Their words slithered across the back of my neck, poisonous and unkind. Each one a dagger, digging a little deeper into flesh I refused to show was bleeding. I wanted to scream, to shout that they didn’t know me, didn’t know what I had endured—but instead, I walked on. Chin up. Shoulders squared. Let them talk.
The words stung. But I didn’t react. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
Instead, I focused on one thing: Avoid Adolphus.
He was no longer in my league. And I wasn’t about to degrade myself by speaking to someone who had stolen what should have been mine.
When I finally reached the Omega quarters, I immediately longed for my old chambers. This were nothing like it.
Gone were the soft linens and private space. The warmth of a personal fireplace. The light that once filtered in through open windows. Now, the air was stuffy, the space cramped and dim. Rows of small, simple beds lined the room—too many bodies in too little space. The scent of old wood, sweat, and damp clothes lingered in the air like something that had been there for generations and never left.
I wasn’t special here. I wasn’t a warrior here. I wasn’t respected here.
I was just another Omega.
No name. No voice. No standing.
The head Omega, a stern-looking woman with graying hair tied tightly into a bun, approached me with the efficiency of someone who had no time for feelings. Her sharp eyes barely met mine as she thrust a parchment into my hands.
"You start immediately," she said, her voice clipped. No welcome. No pity. Just duty.
I glanced at the list. My tasks: scrub the main hall floors, assist in the kitchens, change bed linens, clean the training grounds. I will be scrubbing floors, serving meals, and cleaning up after everyone. That was my new life. The life I had to accept. No ceremony. No easing in. Just a fall straight to the bottom.
I grabbed a bucket and rag, both cold and damp in my hands, and headed toward the main hall where the floors needed to be cleaned.
The bucket thudded softly against my leg with each step, water sloshing against its sides. The closer I got, the more my pulse pounded—not from the labor ahead, but from the weight of shame that pressed between my shoulder blades.
But before I could even take a step inside, a slow clap echoed through the corridor.
"Welcome to earth, Omega."
I turned, already knowing who I would see.
Nicholas.
He leaned against the stone wall like he owned the place, which, as Gamma now, he practically did. His smirk was wide, wicked, dripping with satisfaction. Victory danced in his eyes like flames licking up dry wood.
He took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Bow down to your new Gamma."
The laughter of his clique rang in my ears like a cruel melody, bouncing off the walls, echoing louder than it needed to. Each chuckle dug into my skin. Each jeer twisted like a knife in my pride.