Restless

Damien's POV

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Damien Magnus hadn't had a single decent night's sleep in two whole weeks.

He sat in his father's study at seven in the morning, supposedly reviewing security reports for the upcoming Ceremony, but the words had blurred on the page as his eyes kept drifting toward the window, to the sky, where the moon had just faded.

Three more days until the full moon.

And his wolf, Ryker, the powerful Alpha wolf he'd been relying on since his first shift at just sixteen, was losing his mind.

What the hell is wrong with you? Damien demanded internally for what felt like the eonth time that week.

His wolf gave the same response as always: a very frustrated snarl and a barrage of images. Moonlight. Forest. Running. Searching...

Searching for what exactly?

Ryker didn't know, Or wouldn't say. He just kept pacing endlessly in Damien's mind, a caged predator that could neither rest nor sleep and also couldn't focus on anything except a strange nameless need that had been building up for weeks.

"Damien!"

His attention jerked back to find his father who staring at him with narrowed gray eyes that missed nothing.

"Sir?"

"You've been reading the same page in the last fifteen minutes." Alpha Magnus set down his coffee cup with a precise clink against the saucer. "What's going on with you? You've been distracted and acting strange for weeks now. Your training partners keep complaining about your aggressiveness. Eleora says you barely speak to her anymore."

Damien's jaw visibly tightened at the mention of his fiancée. "I've been focused on the pack’s security. The visiting Alphas are still here, and with the coming ceremony…."

"This ceremony is a routine event. We've held dozens of them." The alpha leaned back in his chair, carefully studying his son with the same calculating gaze he mostly used in pack negotiations. "This is something else entirely. Your wolf is agitated, isn’t it? I can see it in your eyes, the gold bleeding through even now."

Damien forced himself to relax, pushing Ryker back down. His eyes returned to their normal silver-gray, Ryker’s gold ones quickly receding.

"I'm fine, Father."

"You're lying." It wasn't an accusation, just a statement of fact. "We have more important matters to discuss, so I'll let it pass for now.” He pulled a folder from his desk drawer and sliding it across to Damien. "This ceremony’s roster. Five young wolves are coming of age this year."

Damien opened the folder, with not much interest. He'd attended a bunch of these ceremonies over the years. They were always the same routine, just young wolves shifting for the first time under the full moon, being welcomed into adulthood by their loved ones and the pack, then celebration and feasting followed.

Boring.

Until his eyes landed on the last name on the list.

Seraphina. (No surname recorded.)

Rank: Omega.

Age: 18 (estimated).

Status: Mandatory participation required by pack law.

"The omega?" his words came out sharper than intended.

His father raised an eyebrow. "You sound surprised. She's turning eighteen and pack law strictly requires all wolves who come of age to participate in the ceremony, regardless of their rank."

"Do you think she can shift?" Everyone in the moonstone pack knew the omega had never shown any signs of having a wolf. No enhanced senses at all, no connection to the moon, nothing.

"No, she likely cannot." Magnus said it with a casual indifference he might use to comment on the weather. "Which will definitely be embarrassing for her and mildly entertaining for the pack. But law is law. She’ll have to stand in the circle with the others and attempt to shift. When she fails…"

"When she fails?" Damien interrupted. "You're that certain?"

"Son, she's been in this pack for eighteen whole years. She’s never shown even the most basic characteristics of a wolf. She heals slowly, far too slowly. She also has no enhanced senses that we've observed. She's quite small, weak, and there hasn’t been a single stirring of her wolf." Magnus picked up his coffee again, taking a loud sip. "Yes, I’m absolutely certain she’s going to fail."

Something hot and unpleasant twisted in Damien's gut. His wolf stirred again, but this time his snarl held a protective edge that made no sense whatsoever.

"What happens after she fails?" he kept his voice carefully neutral.

"That depends." Magnus set his cup down again. "If she fails gracefully and accepts her status, I can let her remain in the pack as a servant. But if she causes a scene, makes a spectacle of herself, or in any way damages this pack's reputation in front of the other young wolves and their families that’ll be present..." He paused. "Then we'll need to consider other options."

"Other options." Damien's voice was flat.

"Exile. Servitude to another pack in exchange for resources. There are packs far in the south that would take an omega servant, they're always looking for cheap labor." Magnus pulled out another file, a much thinner one. "Or, if she proves to be more trouble than she's worth, we could simply put an end to the problem."

The room suddenly felt too hot. Too small. Damien's wolf was snarling viciously now, furious at the casual way the alpha had discussed ending a pack member’s life.

"You mean execute her?"

"I mean solve a long-standing problem in an efficient way." his tone suggesting this was a perfectly reasonable business decision. "She's been a drain on pack resources for eighteen years. I've tolerated her presence out of mercy, my late mate Helena, your mother insisted on keeping her when she was found as an infant. But my mercy has limits, Damien. If she isn’t able to perform the most basic function of a wolf, if she can’t even shift, then she is of no uses to this pack."

She's a person, Damien wanted to shout. She has value beyond her usefulness to you.

But he'd been raised better than that. He was trained from birth to see his pack’s strength as paramount, trained to understand that weakness couldn't be tolerated, that sentiment had no place in leadership.

So instead he said: "As you say, Father." With a controlled voice.

Magnus looked satisfied. "Good. I'm glad we’ve come to an understanding. This pack comes first. Always." As he closed the thin file, setting it aside. "Now, we'll need additional security given that the visiting Alphas will be attending. I want you to personally oversee to…"

But Damien's mind once again lost its focus. His mind was stuck on three days from now. On the omega, Sera, her name was Sera, he'd heard the cook call her that, standing underneath the full moon, trying and failing to shift while the entire pack watched.

His mind wandered on his father's casual discussion of ending her life if she became inconvenient, on the inexplicable, overwhelming rage it sparked in both him and his wolf.

Why do you even care? He demanded of Ryker. She's nothing to us. She is just the pack's omega. Barely even a wolf."

His wolf's response was a savage one. A snarl so fierce it made his hands clench tight on the arms of his chair, and an image that made absolutely no sense to him.

Warm brown eyes. Flecked with gold like whiskey in the sunlight. Looking up at him with a mixture of hope and fear and something unnamable.

“I don't even know what color her eyes are, Damien realized with a start. She always keeps them down avoiding my gaze.”

He was bothered by that, but why? Why did the thought of her standing alone in front of the whole pack, humiliated and terrified, make his chest tighten?

"Damien!" Alpha Magnus’ sharp voice cut through his thoughts once again. "Are you listening to me at all?"

"Yes, sir. The security for the ceremony. I'll see to it personally."

Magnus studied him for a very long moment, suspicion clear in his eyes. "See that you do. And Damien? Whatever it is that’s bothering you, be sure to handle it. I need you focused. The ceremony is in three days, and with Eleora's father pushing for your engagement announcement soon after…"

"I know the timeline, Father."

"Then you better act like it." Magnus stood, effectively dismissing him. "I have a meeting with the visiting Alphas in twenty minutes. Make sure the conference room is prepared."

Damien stood, taking the security reports with him knowing he wouldn't be able to concentrate on them. As he reached for the door, his father's voice stopped him.

"And Damien. One more thing."

He turned back.

"That omega." Magnus said with an unreadable expression. "Stay away from her before the ceremony. Do not speak to her, don't acknowledge her and don't give her any false hope that her situation might change. It’ll be kinder that way."

Kinder.

As if there was anything kind about the way this pack had been treating her for the past eighteen years.

"Understood, sir."

Damien left the study before he said something he'd regret.

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Damien immersed himself into training with a ferocity that had his sparring partner, James, one of the senior warriors, back away with his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay! I yield!" James said panting, nursing what was definitely going to be a bruised rib later on. "What the hell, Damien? You nearly took my head off with that last move."

"You let your guard down." Damien said calmly, looking the least bit winded even though they'd been going at it for almost an hour. "In a real fight, you'd be dead."

"Good thing this isn't a real fight then." James limped to the training mat, shaking his head. "Seriously, man. Something seems to be going on with you of late. You've been vicious in training. Way more than usual."

Damien grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face, remaining silent.

"Is it your engagement?" James pressed, apparently not knowing when to drop something. "I and heard the announcement's coming soon. Right after the ceremony. A big pack celebration, the whole deal."

"The engagement is fine."

"You sure? Because you don't seem fine. You seem like a wolf who's about to rip someone's throat out."

You have no idea, Damien thought.

His wolf had gotten progressively more aggressive over the past two weeks. During training, during patrol and even during pack meetings. Ryker wanted to fight, to run, to hunt, to do something with his restless energy that had no outlet and no explanation whatsoever.

"I'm perfectly fine," Damien repeated, but even he didn't believe it.

"If you say so." James grabbed his own towel. "But maybe you need to go for a run or something before you actually hurt someone. The full moon's in a few days. Maybe your wolf just needs to.."

"I said I'm fine."

The Alpha command in his voice immediately forced James to lower his head and step back. "Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir."

Damien felt like an asshole. James was one of the good warriors, a good wolf, who didn't deserve to be snapped at just because Damien couldn't control his own temper.

"No, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." Damien ran his hands through his sweat-dampened hair. "You're right. I do need a run. Need to clear my head before I hurt someone."

James nodded, cautious now. "The Coming of Age thing? Should be pretty routine, right? Just five young wolves. Nothing complicated."

"Right. Nothing complicated."

Except for the little omega who couldn't shift and might be executed if she failed publicly enough.

Nothing complicated at all.

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Damien was heading back to his room for a shower when he almost collided with someone coming around the corner.

"I’m sorry, I…." He stopped short.

It was her. The omega. Sera.

She carried a big basket of laundry in her hands that looked far too heavy for her small frame, her arms trembling slightly with the weight. She'd frozen the moment she'd set her eyes on him, eyes going wide with something that looked like panic and quickly lowering her head.

For the first time, really... Damien actually looked at her.

She was small, he had known that, but this close she seemed even more delicate. Far too thin, her collarbones prominent above the neckline of an oversized hoodie. Dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands framing a face that was...

Beautiful, his wolf supplied helpfully. She's beautiful.

Damien immediately shoved that thought away.

Her eyes were lowered, as usual, but for just a mere second, right before she looked down, he caught a glimpse of them.

Warm brown and deep, with flecks of gold that caught the light illuminated from the hallway window.

Exactly as his wolf had been showing him.

"Excuse me, Alpha." Her voice was a quiet, respectful, and neutral one. She moved to step around him, still keeping her eyes down.

"Wait."

She froze immediately, clutching the basket tightly to her chest, like it could shield her from him. "Yes, Alpha?"

Damien didn't know what he'd meant to say. His father's words echoed in his mind. “Don't speak to her, don't acknowledge her, don't give her any false hope.”

But his wolf was practically a howling mess now, it pushed forward, demanding that he…what? Say something? Do something? He didn't even know.

"The ceremony," he heard himself say. "Are you... prepared?"

It was possibly the stupidest question he'd ever asked. How did you even prepare to fail publicly? To potentially face exile or death?

Her eyes were still down, not sparing him a glance at all. "As prepared as I can be, Alpha."

Her hands were terribly shaking. He could see it in the way the basket trembled slightly.

"Right. Well." He had no idea what to say or why he'd even stopped her. "Good luck."

Good luck? His brain supplied incredulously. That's what you're going with?

"Thank you, Alpha." She still wouldn't look at him. "May I go now? The laundry needs to be delivered to the guest quarters."

"Of course. I didn't mean to keep you."

She carefully sidestepped him, and maintained as much distance as possible in the narrow hallway, hurrying away without looking back.

He stood there for a long time, staring at the spot where she'd been, trying to understand what the hell had just happened.

His wolf was... whining. Actually whining like a puppy that had been told not to play.

She's leaving, Ryker whimpered again. Go after her, idiot. Say something else. Anything. Don't let her go.

She's just the omega, Damien firmly reminded his stupid wolf. She's nothing to us.

But even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie.

Something about her called to him. To his wolf, like a siren. Something he couldn’t explain and couldn't deny.

Her eyes. The gold flecks in brown.

Exactly like his wolf had been projecting to him for weeks.

No, he told himself, striding toward his room with determined steps. No. This is nothing. Just wolves being weird before the full moon as always. That's all. Nothing strange about that.

But he couldn't shake off the memory of her eyes. Couldn't stop his wolf from howling mournfully in his mind.

And he couldn't explain why his chest felt stuffed, like something important had just walked away from him.

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