Madam Tera's Invitation

Matilda lingered a little longer, savoring the peaceful moment before making her way back to the quarters.

She moved cautiously, ensuring that trouble did not find her, or that she did not unwittingly invite it.

She had heard the stories about how Omegas were treated in this pack.

The real leaders, the Alpha and his council were said to be reasonable and fair.

Punishments were reserved for rebellious Omegas, never the innocent. But not everyone followed the same code.

Some aristocrats, especially the wealthy businessmen and their pampered wives, were rumored to be nothing short of trouble in human form.

And the Alpha's sister? A hurricane in disguise. If you saw her coming from the front, the best course of action was to escape through the back.

You would do everything you could to avoid her if you wanted to keep your peace and your life.

Matilda exhaled silently as she entered the Omega quarters.

The small, dimly lit space was just as she had left it...crowded yet oddly quiet.

Tina wasn't back yet. Only the heavens know where she wandered off to this time.

Nora and Lynda glanced up from their mattresses the moment she stepped in.

"Are you okay?" Nora asked, the concern on her face evident.

Matilda nodded. "I'm fine. Thank you for before."

She meant it. If Nora and Lynda hadn't stepped in earlier, she wasn't sure how things would have played out with Tina.

"You are welcome," said Nora. " You don't have to be too formal with us."

Lynda shifted on her mattress, sitting upright. "Madam Tera was here looking for you," she informed her. "She said you should come and see her as soon as you return."

Lynda's brow furrowed. "From the look of it, she sounded serious. I think you should go before you settle in for the night."

Matilda gave a small nod. She didn't ask what it was about, there was no use speculating.

Without another word, she turned and made her way toward Madam Tera's quarters.

Madam Tera's residence was slightly farther from the Omega quarters but felt like an entirely different world.

Unlike the cramped, lifeless spaces Matilda was used to, this place was… homely. Warm.

It had the touch of a wise old woman... calm, meticulous. Every item was neatly arranged, each piece of furniture placed with purpose.

The dim lighting gave it an inviting glow, and the faint scent of chamomile and lavender filled the air, likely from the small, well-tended garden just outside.

Matilda had expected something more rigid, something cold that matched Madam Tera's unyielding demeanor at work.

But this… this was different. It was as if the room breathed life, reflecting the hidden softness behind the woman's tough exterior.

Matilda barely had time to process the surprise before Madam Tera's voice cut through the silence.

"You're here."

Madam Tera was seated comfortably on a wooden couch, casually sipping tea.

Her sharp eyes flickered to Matilda, assessing her with that unreadable gaze...the kind that made you feel as though she could see right into your soul.

Matilda swallowed. Her muscles tensed instinctively.

"Good evening, Madam Tera," she greeted, keeping her voice steady. "You asked for me?"

The older woman took another slow sip of tea before setting the cup down. She said nothing for a moment, only watching.

The silence stretched, thick with something unspoken.

Outside, the gentle night breeze carried the scent of the garden; roses, lavender, and night-blooming jasmine. The floral aroma wrapped around Matilda, soothing her in a way she didn't expect.

She hadn't realized how tense she was until now.

Madam Tera's gaze softened just slightly. "What's troubling you, child?"

Matilda stiffened. She hadn't expected that question.

Matilda thought she had hidden it well. She truly believed that she had masked her emotions, yet Madam Tera saw through her as if reading an open book.

It unsettled her.

She now understood why Madam Tera was entrusted with such a heavy responsibility, she was truly equal to the task.

Under her leadership, there were no problems, no complaints. Everything functioned smoothly, as though she had an unspoken ability to maintain order without force.