The Alpha's Healer

"Iris! Are you listening?!" A six year old Iris dropped her book and ran after the voice calling her. The medicines scattered out of her pocket, which made her pause. But the continuous knocks on hard wood kept her up on her feet. "Coming!" She answered and ran out of her room. Her little feet pattered across the wooden floor, crossing the hallway to get to the kitchen. Three Omegas, one taller than the others, were standing in a circle around a burnt pot. Iris froze outside the kitchen. "Did you leave the milk boiling all night?!" Grace exclaimed. Iris flinched back in shock and lowered her head guiltily. She remembered putting the pot of milk to boil and later got distracted by her books and forgot to take it off the stove. Everything had evaporated and the pot was ruined. Her hands felt the pain from cane beating even before that came. Her thoughts shattered when Mary grabbed the dirty pot and threw it in the empty sink. She pointed at Iris's nose and barked, "Clean it!" Karol handed her a bar of soap and a scrubber, "Yes. Clean it or no food for you today. Ungrateful runt." The Omegas bumped into her tiny figure on their way out. Iris looked down at the items in her hand, sighed and grabbed a stool. She pushed back her oversized sleeves, which were handed down from her step sister Sandra, and started scrubbing. Her wild curly hair collected a bit of gunk because it kept falling into her face and she had to push them back. Her hands were smaller than average for her age and the scrubber barely fit between her little fingers. The harder she scrubbed, the more it slipped and nicked on her skin. The window provided a beautiful sunrise view. As the sun peeked over the distant icy mountains, Iris paused the scrubbing and smiled. "Good morning mom." She said to the sun. "I'm working hard to make papa happy. Look?" She raised the pot bigger hand half her body. It slipped out of her hand and fell into the sink with a loud bang. She flinched, her smile dropped and she looked up the stairs. Seeing that nobody woke up, she kept scrubbing. When the alarm went off, she stopped everything and started preparing food. At six years old, Iris was proud of her skills already. She could flip pancakes without breaking them and pour coffee into mugs without spilling. When Amanda, her step mother, walked down in her furry pink robe, Iris was already out of sight and back into the kitchen. The table was set with three plates of food : eggs, toast, pancakes and a pot of fresh coffee. "Did you burn the pot?" Amanda shifted her unimpressed gaze from the table to Iris. Her oversized shirt was wet and her entire body smelled of greese and soap. Iris turned on the stool, joined her hands and nodded submissively. "What a wasteful little creature you are." Amanda crouched to her level and pinched her cheek. The little fat under her skin was pierced by her long nails. Amanda didn't need claws to hurt someone, her blood coloured nails were the most terrifying thing to Iris, aside from the cane. "No medicine for you today." She whispered and watched Iris freeze. Iris didn't dare to protest even though her little heart broke. The little girl didn't know how to act brave. Her lips turned into a pout and her eyes were wide, filled with tears. Amanda smiled with satisfaction, patted her head and watched it bobble under the overwhelming weight and went to the table. She closed the curtain separating the dining table from the kitchen. Iris was still sniffing back tears when the sound of giggles and conversations came from beyond the curtain. Iris tip toed down the stool and peeked outside. Sandra, dressed in a pink nightsuit with her name on it, was being served her favourite pancakes by the Omega Mary. Her father, Alpha Brian, was dressed in a crisp shirt ironed in the dark hours of morning by Iris and was sipping on his favourite coffee. He smiled at Sandra as she enjoyed the breakfast and asked, "Is it to your liking?" "Yes! Mary makes the best pancakes in the whole world!" Sandra cheered and kissed Mary on the cheek as a reward. It made the family of three and the Omegas on the side smile with glee. Iris quietly let go of the curtain and went back to scrubbing. This time she made sure to keep the sound low. "Don't worry about me, mom. I will make papa happy. If he's happy, he will love me again." The sun shined a little brighter as if agreeing to her ideas. After two hours of rigorous scrubbing and multiple invisible cuts, Iris got rid of mostly all the stains. Karol inspected the pot and handed her two pancakes with some butter on it for lunch. Iris happily ran back to her room with the plate, sat on the wooden floor and flipped open her book. It was the weekend, which meant no school, which in turn meant free time to read the books. The thick, leather bound books weighed half a kilo each and had dust on every page. Iris placed the pancakes aside, ignored her rumbling stomach and cleaned up the new page. "The stomach lining contains a thick layer of fiber that absorbs nutrients...." She moved her little index finger under the line and read it slowly. She intentionally lowered her voice so it won't leave the constraints of her room. After an hour, the alarm rang again. Iris slid the book under her bed and ran outside again. Sandra was dressed in a floral dress with a matching headband keeping her blonde hair out of her face. Her expression went from happy to upset when she saw Iris. "You're not going to the party dressed like that, Iris. Change into something better." Amanda chastised and turned her back on Iris. Iris looked down at her stained shirt and realised Amanda was right. She couldn't attend their classmate's birthday party dressed like this. So she rushed back to her room and rummaged through the dresser drawer that contained all her clothes. Sandra was two months younger than Iris but had a plumper, healthier body. She grew at a faster rate too. In turn, Iris received some of the clothes she grew out of. One of such dresses was her favourite. With her favourite fruit strawberries all over it. There were some stains on it but they were unnoticeable due to the print. Iris climbed over her bed. It creaked and shook but she soon steadied it. The mirror was mounted over the wall, which made it hard to look into. She grabbed a comb and clumsily gathered all her fluffy curly black hair into a ponytail. Once done, Iris flashed herself a toothy grin and ran down again. She searched for Amanda and Sandra from the living room to the kitchen, to the backyard and even Sandra's bedroom. No one was there. "Have you seen Amanda?" Iris mustered up the courage to ask Grace. Grace was cleaning up the kitchen. She paused and looked down at her stained dress, grimaced and said, "They left ten minutes ago." Her eyes widened in disbelief. She fisted the dress, which fell a bit loose on her bony frame and blinked back tears. "You're old enough to understand that nobody likes you." Karol commented as soon as she walked in. She slammed the bread basket on the counter. It was two days old bread, cut up into pieces. "Your classmate's day would be ruined if you showed up. Instead of ruining people's day, you'd better make yourself useful by getting some jobs done. Take the bread and feed it to the chicks." Karol grabbed the basket and handed it to her. Iris struggled to hold it. It took both arms to just steady it. She quietly pattered to the backyard and stopped at the coop. The chickens made noisy sounds at the sight of bread. Iris crouched in front of it, took one piece and fed it to the chicken closest to her. The chicken bit the bread and her finger at the same time. A bit of blood came out of the little sound. But it didn't hurt. Her heart started to hurt. A little more than it did yesterday when Sandra dropped her medicine bottle. A bit more than the time her father decided to take the family out for dinner, only to forget the excited Iris behind. It hurt significantly more than the time Sandra accidentally locked her in the school locker room after swimming class. Her body was itchy and dry and she has to suffer three days of rashed because of it. And it was the harsh truth slapped into her face that hurt more than any physical pain ever inflicted on her. Even the painful marks of cane whooping hurt less than to know the fact that nobody liked her. Iris poured the bread pieces into the coop and watched the chickens feast on them. She remembered her untouched pancakes lying in wait on the bedroom floor. She stood up and went back to eat them. It was well over noon and they wouldn't be edible if left out for long. She was hungry and salivating for it by the time she opened the door. Only to find the floor spotless. Her fallen medicines and plate of pancakes were gone. Iris lifted a foot to go downstairs and ask, but her courage drained. Her heels were cracked from making too many trips up and down the stairs. Her room was on the second floor, next to the supply closet and laundry room. It took a lot of time and effort. Her small body ran out of energy. So Iris changed out of the pretty dress and lay in bed until her next call for chores. Her messy curls fell over her droopy eyes. They were the same as her mom's, that's what her dad once said, when they still spoke sometimes. That was when Iris was barely three years old. Before he married Amanda under the disguise of providing Iris with a mother figure. Before Sandra, his step daughter, became his daughter instead of Iris. Iris never complained. She didn't dare, in fear that they were annoying and baseless. At six years old, she could see that everyone seem to dislike her. And her mother's death was closely tied to that behaviour. "Your fate was written not in ink, but your mother's blood." Iris didn't understand what it meant when Amanda said that to her a year ago, on her birthday, when the pack was mourning her mother's death. Iris only knew that the stares were harsher that day. The whispers a bit louder, unconcealed. Her cake was absent and nobody seemed to remember that Iris was born on that day. Months later, she stayed at the back when Sandra's three tired cake rolled out on her birthday. As her friends gathered around and sang her that song and sprinkled confetti around her. From the far back, Iris would blow into the air right before Sandra blew the candles, pretending that it was hers too. Even today, Iris didn't know what it meant for her fate to be written in blood. All she knew, that if it's written by her mother, she was bound to have good things waiting for her in the future.