HIS REJECTION, ANOTHER'S CLAIM,MY TWINS,MY POWER

The Forgotten Omega

The whispers clung to me like cobwebs, sticky and impossible to shake.

“Useless.”

“Cursed.”

“Better off dead.”

The words weren’t new, but they still pierced. After nineteen years of being the pack’s shadow, I thought I would’ve grown numb. Instead, each insult carved deeper grooves into my soul.

I kept my head bowed as I moved through the grand hall, balancing a tray of roasted meat and bread. The air reeked of sweat, smoke, and wolf musk. Warriors laughed loudly at the tables, their voices filling the cavernous space. The fire in the stone hearth crackled, its warmth never meant for me.

Elena Dawson was the pack's orphaned omega, the stain everyone wanted had died at birth.. My parents had died in a raid when I was too young to remember, and instead of pity, I had earned contempt. Omegas were already considered the lowest rank. An orphaned omega? Worse than dirt.

Still, I endured. I cleaned, I cooked, I served, and I kept my voice small enough that no one would notice unless they wanted someone to hurt.

But no matter how much I bowed, a spark smoldered inside me, stubborn and unyielding. One day, I will leave this place. One day, they will regret breaking me.

The hall vibrated suddenly, the shift in energy as sharp as a crack of thunder. Conversations cut short. Laughter died mid-breath. Even the fire seemed to bow.

Alpha Damien had entered.

He strode in with the lethal grace of a predator, his golden hair catching the firelight, his broad shoulders filling the room with dominance. His icy blue eyes swept over his pack like a blade cutting through flesh. The hush that followed was instinctive—wolves lowering their heads, warriors straightening in deference.

My hands trembled on the tray. I had learned long ago not to attract his notice. The Alpha didn’t see omegas. To him, we were furniture, tools, bodies to use and discard.

But today was different.

His gaze stopped on me.

For a single, breathless second, I thought I imagined it. His eyes—cold, sharp, and assessing—locked on mine as though I were suddenly prey cornered in his hunt. My breath hitched. The tray grew heavier in my shaking hands.

He then twisted his lips into a slow, vicious smile.

“Her,” Damien said, his voice ringing across the hall. He lifted a hand, pointing straight at me. “Bring her to me.”

The tray slipped from my grasp. Meat and bread were all over the stone floor. The crash echoed like thunder, followed by a stunned silence.

Dozens of eyes turned toward me. Gasps rippled. Warriors muttered in disbelief. Omegas rarely earned notice; an orphaned omega earning the Alpha’s attention? Unthinkable.

My pulse pounded in my throat. Heat rushed to my face as I dropped to my knees to gather the food, desperate to vanish into the shadows again. But it was already too late.

Two pack warriors stepped forward. Their hands clamped around my arms, rough and unyielding. I struggled instinctively, digging my nails into the floor, but their strength dwarfed mine.

The whispers swelled like a tide.

“Why her?”

“She’s nothing.”

“The Alpha must be joking.”

But Damien’s smirk said otherwise.

And for the first time in nineteen years, I realized my life was no longer mine to control.

The Alpha’s Claim

The warriors dragged me forward. My heels scraped the stone, my feet stumbling as I tried to resist without making it obvious. I couldn’t fight them outright—that would mean death. But I could make it harder for them, a silent rebellion. Small acts were all I had.

Damien’s gaze tracked my every movement. His amusement deepened with each tiny struggle, as if my resistance were nothing but entertainment to him.

The packhouse smelled of smoke and sweat, but under it all was the heavy scent of his dominance—sharp, electric, suffocating. I wanted to shrink back, to melt into the floor, but instead I forced myself upright when they shoved me before him.

Damien leaned down, close enough that his breath brushed my cheek. The corner of his mouth tilted, sharp as a blade.

“His voice was silk over steel as he whispered, "So fragile." “So… mine.”

The words struck like a brand, searing through me. The hall erupted in murmurs, shock rolling like thunder through the gathered pack. An omega? Claimed? Never had such a thing happened before.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as sand. My hands trembled, but I forced my chin up, just enough to show I wasn’t completely broken. My voice came out small, but steady.

“I belong to no one,” I whispered.

The silence that followed was suffocating. No one spoke back to Damien. No one.

Gasps echoed around us. A woman dropped her cup. A warrior muttered a curse. My defiance was suicide.

Damien’s icy eyes narrowed, danger flashing in their depths. He gripped my chin suddenly, his fingers digging into my jaw, tilting my face up until it ached.

“We’ll see about that, little wolf,” he said softly, the menace in his tone louder than a roar.

My breath caught. His presence pressed against me like a cage, crushing, suffocating. Every instinct screamed to submit, to beg, to fall silent.

But deep inside, that same spark whispered louder than fear.

Survive. Endure. Fight when the time comes.

And as his claim settled over me like chains, I made another vow: if Alpha Damien thought he had broken me, he had made his first mistake.