Sacrificed To The Triplet Alpha Kings

Chapter 95: The Pack Will Be Holding A Major Fuction

Sacrificed To The Triplet Alpha Kings

Chapter 95: The Pack Will Be Holding A Major Fuction

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Chapter 95: The Pack Will Be Holding A Major Fuction

"Lilith," Emma said. "Dora called an emergency assembly. Everyone needs to be at the facility by 8 AM instead of the usual 9 AM. Something’s happening."

Lilith nodded slowly, processing the information. Emergency assembly. Early start. Something important.

"Okay," she said. "Thank you for telling me."

"Are you alright?" Emma asked, concern flickering across her face. "You look...."

"I’m fine," Lilith said, cutting her off gently. "Just didn’t sleep well. I’ll be there by 8 AM."

Emma nodded, though her expression suggested she didn’t entirely believe that Lilith was fine. But she didn’t push. She simply turned and left.

Lilith closed the door and stood in the darkness of her apartment for a moment.

She had maybe forty minutes to pull herself together enough to be presentable. Forty minutes to drag her exhausted body through a shower and into work clothes. Forty minutes to appear functional when she felt like she was falling apart.

She moved to the communal bathroom.

The water was cold, it was always cold in omega housing, the pack not bothering to waste resources on heating water for omegas. She splashed it on her face, gasping at the shock of it.

The cold was grounding. Real. It pulled her back into her body and away from the phantom sensations of hands that weren’t there, mouths that weren’t touching her, bodies moving against her in ways that existed only in her subconscious.

She closed her eyes under the spray.

Immediately, gold eyes flashed in the darkness behind her eyelids. Lucian’s wolf. Zev. Watching her. Waiting for her.

Lilith’s eyes snapped open.

She forced herself to look at the cold water cascading from the showerhead. Forced herself to keep her eyes open. Forced herself to focus on the physical sensation of cold water against her skin rather than the phantom touch of three alphas invading her dreams.

But even as she washed, she couldn’t shake the feeling.

The dreams were becoming more vivid. More real. More consuming. Every time she allowed herself to drift, they were waiting. And her body, her traitorous, confused body...responded to them like they were essential. Like they were necessary for her survival.

It was driving her insane.

By the time she finished the shower, her teeth were chattering from the cold. Her body was covered in goosebumps. But she was awake. More awake than she’d been in days.

She dried off quickly and pulled on her work clothes...black pants, grey shirt, the standard omega uniform. She pulled her damp hair back in a braid and looked at herself in the small mirror.

The face that looked back at her was barely recognizable.

Dark circles under her eyes. Pale skin that suggested she hadn’t seen sunlight in weeks. A thinness to her features that hadn’t been there before. She looked hollowed out. Haunted. Like something was consuming her from the inside.

Because something was.

Lilith turned away from the mirror and headed toward the omega assembly facility.

***

The assembly area was a large open space used for announcements and group briefings. Roughly fifty omegas were gathered there, standing in loose clusters, talking quietly among themselves. They all had the same exhausted look that Lilith felt...tired, worn down, barely functional.

The early morning call was unusual. The omegas sensed something was wrong.

Dora stood at the front of the space, waiting for everyone to assemble. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd, counting, assessing. She waited until the last omega had arrived before she began to speak.

"Listen up," she said, her voice carrying across the assembly area. "I’ve called you here early because the pack has received important news that affects all of you."

The murmuring started immediately. Whispers and worried glances exchanged between omegas.

"The pack will be hosting a major function in less than three weeks," Dora continued. "The Yearly Alphas Summit."

More murmuring. This time it was louder. More concerned.

One of the omegas, a woman named Sage who worked sanitation with Lilith, raised her hand slightly. "What does that mean for us?" she asked.

"It means," Dora said flatly, "that you will be working extra hard. Extra shifts. Extra responsibilities. The pack needs to be prepared, and that preparation falls on your shoulders. You’ll be cleaning, organizing, preparing facilities. You’ll be working longer hours than usual. You’ll be pushing yourselves harder than you probably have before."

The assembly erupted into worried murmuring.

"How much longer?" another omega asked...Cole, the hard-looking woman from the facility who’d warned Lilith about visibility.

"As long as it takes," Dora said. Her voice didn’t invite argument. "The Summit is in less than three weeks. Everything needs to be perfect."

The omegas exchanged worried glances. This was bad news. This meant their already difficult lives were about to become exponentially harder. It meant exhaustion piled on top of exhaustion. It meant pushing their bodies to the breaking point.

But then Dora spoke again.

"It will come with more wages," she said simply.

The assembly fell silent.

Those three words seemed to hang in the air, suspended, weighing more than their actual substance.

More wages.

Lilith’s head snapped up.

The fatigue that had been crushing her moments before seemed to dissipate, not completely, but enough that she could think. Enough that the exhaustion receded into the background and something else took its place.

Hope.

More wages. The words echoed in her mind. More money. A way out of the impossible equation that had been suffocating her. A way to possibly....possibly...cover her mother’s medical bills. A way to keep her mother alive.

She looked up and met Dora’s eyes.

The overseer was looking directly at her, and in that moment, there was understanding between them. Complete, unspoken understanding. Dora knew what this meant to Lilith. She knew about her desperation.

And she was offering a lifeline.

Their eyes held for just a moment longer than necessary. Then Dora looked away, her expression returning to its usual professional neutrality.

"The specifics of your increased wages will be determined based on your workload," Dora continued, addressing the assembly again. "More hours worked means more pay. Volunteers for the longest shifts will earn the most. The work starts tomorrow morning. You’ll receive detailed assignments tonight."

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