His Omega Luna

Lyra’s POV

I, Lyra, had always been nothing. An omega. A slave. I cleaned, served, and obeyed. No one looked at me twice. No one wanted me.

Every mating season, I was ignored. Rejected. I believed I was worthless, unwanted by any man. And in this Pack, that meant I was no one at all.

The Blackfang Pack was built on power, dominance, and blood. Strength was the only thing that mattered. And I was weak.

Omegas were nothing but property. Bought, sold, and discarded when we were no longer useful. We weren’t considered Pack members. We were possessions.

And the one who ensured we stayed that way was Elder Mordecai Bloodbane.

He was the head of the Council. His cold black eyes never reflected love towards the omegas. His presence was suffocating, his voice was like a serpent’s hiss that sent a chill through the air whenever he spoke to any omega.

Once, he had been an advisor to the former Alpha, Kieran’s father. He despised Kieran’s rule. Believed him unfit to lead. And he wanted to control the Pack by placing a puppet Alpha on the throne. I had overheard enough of his evil plans to know that his plans ran deep, his corruption was boundless.

And I was nothing more than a tool to him. An omega to be sold when it suited him.

Lord Ulric Duskbane was no better. Heavyset with graying hair and calculating brown eyes, he always carried a cane, though no one knew if he truly needed it. He was the Pack’s financial head, the one who controlled the wealth, and he only cared about one thing! Which was money.

He was the one who profited most from the omega trade. He saw me as property. Something to be used and discarded when I no longer held value.

Then there was Lord Vance. He was quiet, always watching, waiting for weakness. If Kieran ever showed even the smallest sign of faltering, Vance would be the first to challenge him. I have been observant to know each of their schemes.

I knew my place too. I knew I was nothing to these people and had no right to be concerned about their personal affairs. Which was why I bowed my head and scrubbed the stone floors of the grand hall without complaint, ignoring the aches in my knees, the sting in my hands from hours of labor.

Suddenly, Lady Seraphina’s voice broke the silence.

“You’re so slow, Lyra.”

Lady Seraphina, The lover of Kieran, the Alpha King. She’s 32 years old, a noble-born she-wolf who always believed she would become Luna.

She stood above me, her piercing wicked eyes looking down at me with irritation. She was beautiful, with jet-black hair cascading down her back in perfect waves, dressed in a black short gown.

“You should be finished with this by now,” she said, crossing her arms. “Did you forget that you still have my chambers to clean?”

I bowed my head lower. “No, my Lady.”

“Then hasten up. I won’t have you dragging filth into my rooms.” She stepped closer. “And mind yourself today, little omega. The mating game begins soon.”

My hands stayed stilled, it was the mating game that always happens every year. It was a grand event, one where wolves of all ranks would have the chance to find their mates. Even omegas were allowed to participate. It was held by Alpha Kieran. It has been the tradition to this Pack ever since the old Alpha was laid to rest. Alpha Kieran wanted a change whereby his rule will be fair and just amongst everyone. So he made sure this mating ceremony was always held.

I always joined. I was delusional. Hoping I would find a mate, that someone would look at me and choose me. I had spent too many years being ignored, overlooked, discarded so joining wouldn’t do me any good this time around.

Seraphina smirked, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking.

“You won’t be foolish enough like other omegas to join, will you?” She tilted her head. “It would be humiliating to stand there, waiting, only to be ignored again.” 

She was right. The times I joined, I and a few omegas weren’t chosen by anyone. They all walked past me to choose a mate and while the ceremony was over, we returned back to our seats as we could hear some Pack members whispering some hurtful words about us and I didn’t care even though I could hear them loudly.

I swallowed and ignored it. “I don’t plan to join, my Lady.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “Good. We wouldn’t want a useless little thing like you ruining the event again.” 

She did not hate just only me. She hated all omegas.

With that, she turned and walked away.

I watched her leave, my hands tightening into fists against the wet rag I was holding to clean the floor.

I should be used to this by now. The cruelty, the taunts. But no matter how much I told myself I didn’t care, it still hurt.

Soon, the mating ceremony was in full swing. Ranked werewolves sat with their mates witnessing the other werewolves choosing their mate. I stood at the farthest corner of the grand hall, pressed against the cold stone pillar, watching them smile, laugh and clap at each activity.

No one spared me a second glance, not when all eyes were drawn to the center of the room, where Lady Seraphina glided like a queen among peasants, her silk gown clinging to her movement. She was breathtaking.

She now stood beside Alpha Kieran Darkmoor. At 6’5” at age 28, he towered over everyone, his dark onyx hair fell just enough to brush against the small scar that slashed across his left cheek. 

Seraphina, undeterred by the sheer dominance that bled from him, took another step closer. “My love,” she purred. “You’ve barely touched your wine. Surely even the great Alpha King indulges in celebration.” 

For a moment, he said nothing. And then, her fingers daring to brush against his chest. But Kieran’s eyes dropped to where her hand had touched, and something cold slithered through his gaze. 

I continued to watch them from where I stood. Her eyes met his uncomfortably before he turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone.