Omega (Book 1)

Omega (Book 1)

By:  Stephen  Completed
Language: English
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The Alpha's pup is an Omega!After being bought his place into Golden Lake University; an institution with a facade of utmost peace, and equality, and perfection, Harold Girard falls from one calamity to another, and yet another, and the sequel continues. With the help of his roommate, a vampire, and a ridiculous-looking, socially gawky, but very clever witch, they exploit the flanks of the inflexible rules to keep their spots as students of the institution.The school's annual competition, 'Vestige of the aptest', is coming up, too, as always with its usual thrill, but for those who can see beyond the surface level, it's nothing like the previous years'. Secrets; shocking, scandalous, revolting and abominable ones begin to crawl out of their gloomy shells.And that is just a cap of the iceberg as the Alpha's second-chance mate watches from the sideline like an hawk, waiting to strike the Omega! NB: Before you read this book, know that your reading experience might be spoiled forever as it'll be almost impossible to find a book more thrilling, and mystifying, with drops here and there of magic and suspense.

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150 Chapters
This book is dedicated to Bukade—my awesome friend who's helped me very very much in the creation of this book, and Favour Edem, too—my first love, for taking her time to explain stuffs about Werewolves, and Vamps, and Witches to me.For all those looking into my book, Omega, which by the way is entering the ‘Mate the Alpha’ contest, I am quite optimistic that this book will be worth your time and you will enjoy every bit of it. ❤️I think it's gentlemanly—and appropriate for me to WARN you all, too, that this book contains strong words, and gory contents, which like every other part of this book, will be written in a detailed form. Hence, this book will be inappropriate for children, and tweens, and juvenile teens.I wish you a great reading experience as you dive with me into this book! ?Enjoy...
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“...And that is why this school isn't like any other in the world—and consists of the ternary faunas—Werewolves, vampires and witches or wizards.” Professor Travis—a bald lecturer with an austere face and an awfully long black tie that swung left and right with every move he made said into a microphone—which hung out of a lectern and was slanted slightly upwards towards him like a snake staring at a prey up above. The lectern–or pulpit, stood in the middle of the very well established podium which had an aura that made the newly admitted students of Golden Lake University silent. Other than the atmosphere charged with sobriety due to the systematic arrangement of things, there had been rumours among the ‘Freshers’ that anyone caught making rows and causing rackets—no matter how trivial, will be sent back to his clan, or pack, or coven.  Even if the students
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Harold Girard walked hastily over clumps of brown, arid grasses, mumering prayers–that sounded like an anaconda's whispers just before it pounced on a small mouse, through his whithered lips that had a tawny shade, and dehydrated throat. He slouched his black, leather bag that had a long strap meant to go round his body–from his shoulder to his waist, over his head–with a gasp, down on a small tuft of shrunken weeds and in return, couple of tender clicks sourced upwards as the big bag touched the grounds and the weakened stems of plants snapped into (a lot of) pieces. He wiped his sweaty forehead with with the back of his palm. It was mid summer already but still, it seemed like the sun was still enraged that it had disappeared during the winter and yet, people managed to survive without it. So now, it was back to glow, and bloom, and burn them, too.His bro
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Golden Lake University whose mere existence arrested the attention of werewolf packs, vampire clans, and witch—and wizard covens, was highly sought after like a kid in a fervent quest for pack of delectable candies or a band of ravenous dogs for a fleshy chunk of meat.After the war ended, werewolves; in their packs, witches; in their covens, and vampires; in their clans, through preconceived thoughts and competitive zeals felt that having the highest number of students that made up Golden Lake University, automatically made them superior to the others—at least, till when the population numeration was overthrown. And although no one said it—like a secret rule which no one spoke about but everyone knew of, there was a feud—that'd brewed over the centuries, which was beginning to unfurl to every part of the school like few drops of a Black Poison dropped into an untarnished, spotless body of water.That was when the idea of the dormitories in the stud
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It seemed like all the doors in Golden Lake University—no matter what they kept away or welcomed the students into, were either chestnut-coloured and tawny—a shade affiliated to brown, or had a strikingly and almost indistinguishable hue resembling sallow orange. Harold had noticed that.He stood, facing the lecturer's door which was sealed shut—or appeared so. The reddish-brown door—obviously of excellent quality, was tall, too; lanky and sturdy, like a mammoth preventing Harold from access to the other side. Harold's neck revolved left and right, and his eyeballs shifted in their chambers as he watched the now-familiar hallway for any shadows and whispers; signs of the presence of people—students. There were no reasons in particular but he felt like being imperceptible and out of sight of anyone, like a pilferer. He ousted his hands from the searing heat of his pockets and tapped the stalwart door a few times—in quick
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Harold Girard's right foot collided against a large stone in the shadowy blackness of the cavern and he went sprawling on the ground as excruciating agony stung and bit and crunched on his toes intensely like a stray dog was gnawing at them. He sat alone, in the mysteriously dark cave, nursing his toes which he knew must be bleeding hard through his sneakers. His nose twitched uneasily at the unusual whiff of the cave that seemed to have been heightened considerably over the minutes. It was as though the pong was overhanging from the high walls like ghosts floating around.What was the university holding back from the thousands of undergraduates that was so important it had to be stashed far away underground in a cave? Harold Girard couldn't push the hundreds of thoughts that flooded his subconscious per nanosecond  out of his head as he sat on the earth, so he stood up to continue his journey.A ne
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Harold Girard; through lies, managed to abscond from the queer-looking midget who came into the pedantic office of his lecturer, a minute after he crawled out of the benighted cavern. If he had been as much as three minutes later than he was, he would have been seen at the very moment of his writhing out of the opening like a worm, and even worse, he'd have been expelled-or killed-and his blood fed to the brutes in the cavern, solely because of the information that was now microfilmed in his memory and etched in his heart.On the outside of the mysterious office, Harold saw students going about their businesses-which was making most gaiety of the winsome sundown, in troops and 'gangs' and dressed in fancy garbs and distinct attires, after a long day of erudition.His hazelnut-coloured eyeballs chaperoned a group of four that bantered and quipped as they sauntered down the hallway; not minding the large quota their voices added to the forthcoming ca
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Trisha McLeod's stein slipped out of her shaky fingers at the sudden realization that a student's life was coming to an end—in a matter of minutes—or seconds!Driblets of the liquor; that glowed of crimson—due to the sunset's filter—which doused every physical objects within reach, lubricated the limpid surface of the cup and the ‘greased’ beer mug which still had an ample quantity of booze in it, skidded from her grip before ramming into the cold tiles and splitting into hundreds of tiny fragments with a strident noise. Regrettably, the bump of Trisha's wine's glass on the inured ground brought a lot of attention their way; that of their Geography professor included, and that was when another chain of problems began.Harold and Trisha crouched into the indistinct shadows of the deftly pared gorse bush that separated them from the rest of the swimming tract like a fort breaking up a warzone from the territory of impoverished locales. Unf
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Hastening away from the uninhabited natatorium and towards a small cabin—built with bricks and sturdy planks of wood; for the pool's paperworks, was a waitress. Her small, well carved palms which were ornamented with silvery beads that simulated the sunset's beauty, held a salver that had a couple of steins in it, and with each step she took, the glass cups clanked into the serene atmosphere like the death bells of undertakers; which was what attracted Harold and Trisha's attentions like bees to honey. Trisha, who was the first to pick up the orderly sedating tolls with her acute sense of hearing, ran in its direction, leaving Harold to the still blue body of water on which the empty bottle water floated and danced with the miniscule waves the howling wind caused. The waitress who was golden-haired looked like she was dressed for a summer vacation. A skimpy crop top hugged the upper part of her well enriched frame and her long, beautiful
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*THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO THE NIGERIAN ?? YOUTHS WHO HAVE IN ONE WAY OR THE OTHER, STOOD AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT AND BRAVELY AIRED THEIR VIEWS AND OPINIONS FOR (POSITIVE) CHANGES DESPITE THE MASSACRES AND HOLOCAUST CARRIED OUT ON HUNDREDS OF YOUTHS AT LEKKI TOLL GATE ON THE 20TH OF OCTOBER, 2020.*Trisha McLeon knelt hurriedly and with a thud, her knees touched the coarse ground—over Catherine's motionless body. She looked behind her, hoping to see Harold or anyone that'll be of help but they were both alone. The environ was as deserted; and noiselessless, as an eerie catacomb. She plucked her eyeglasses from her face and placed them on the ground, beside the waitress' numb frame. Her mum although was a witch—like her, had been a top-ranked nurse in the human world. Hence, she was lucky enough to have seen some acts her mother carried out on her patients on countless occasions. Trisha pl
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