Tamed by the Omega

Tanya's POV

I was born beneath the full moon.

That’s what I've always been told, though no one said it like it was a good thing .

Not my father, who has always treated me like a stranger for as long as I could remember. And definitely not the Moonstone pack members who treated me even worse because of my father's obvious disdain. I would always hear whispers from the pack members of how cursed I was by causing my mother's death and denying my father the chance to have his mate and a real heir a man of his status deserves.

The Moon Goddess had marked me as defective from the start.

I couldn’t shift.

In the world of shifters where strength is determined with war, claws, teeth and bones, I am seen as an anomaly. A weak spineless Omega who has one of the strongest alphas for a father. And to worsen it all, a latent.

Tonight, preparations are in full swing for the Moon Goddess’s ball. Silver lights are being hung and all the tables are decorated in flowers and velvet satin tablecloths. I take note of how beautiful the grand ball room is with deep sadness because I wasn't even invited.

“Tanya.”

I stiffened at the voice. My father’s Beta, Marcus, approached with the clipped tone present in every man who sometimes hates the descriptions that came with his position- especially when it had to do with relating with me on behalf of my father. 

“You’re to be dressed and ready within the hour.” His gaze flicked over me with thinly veiled disgust. “The Alpha doesn’t want delays. Not even from you.”

I didn’t ask why I was expected to attend this year although it came as a bit of a surprise. I already came of age last moon, and while it was widely known that after the coming of age ceremony was the ball, I didn't think I was eligible to attend because of my wolf's status. The Ball was a chance for unmated wolves to seek out the ones the Moon Goddess had chosen for them. Fate. Destiny and strengthened pack alliances accompanied with smiles and a party.

Not for me, of course. I knew the only reason I was ordered to attend is because it was mandatory that every pack member that came of age had to do so and definitely not out of the kindness of my father's heart.

Still, I nodded “Yes, Beta Marcus.” because I didn't necessarily have a choice.

He didn’t speak again. He didn’t have to. His silence carried all the weight of my father’s disappointment.

The gown I arrived home to find on my bed was a dazzling royal blue ball gown, too classy for a girl like me, who had never owned something so luxurious. My reflection in the mirror startled me — hollow eyes, skin too pale from days spent indoors, hair twisted into something elegant with my flat iron from my little attempt at being presentable.

“You clean up well enough, I suppose,” one of the security details assigned to watch me whispered as she passed by my room.

I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me.

I didn’t trust her.

The ballroom pulsed with energy when I arrived. Men and women of different status and caliber dressed in shimmering gowns and tailored suits moved beneath chandeliers with all the elegant grace and poise common for shifters. Laughter rang like music, wine flowed like blood, and everywhere, eyes gleamed with the hunger for more connection, status and power.

I hovered near the entrance, reluctant to go in as I wasn't used to attending public events of any sort.

“Look who crawled out of the shadows.”

The sneer belonged to Celia, daughter of a prominent warrior. Beautiful. Vicious. She’d tormented me since childhood with the ease of someone who knew her place in this world and could determine mine.

“No one told you, Tanya? The Ball is for wolves with futures.” Her gaze slid over me, derisive. “Not broken things clinging to scraps.”

I said nothing. Even my words would not give me any kind of victory in this situation, even if I had none.

“Run along now,” she cooed. “Before someone mistakes you for one of the servants.”

Her laughter followed me as I slipped away, seeking refuge beyond the grand double doors and into the cool night air.

The garden behind the ballroom was quiet and peaceful. Moonlight bathed stone pathways and the marble fountain where roses and ivy curled along the carved statue.

I sat alone on a wrought-iron bench, breathing deep against the weight in my chest.

Tonight had been a mistake. I should’ve stayed hidden in my small, silent room. But some foolish part of me — the part that still believed in stories of fated mates and love that saw beyond bloodlines and status — had wondered if maybe… maybe someone would look at me and see more.

Someone like him.

Luke.

The Beta of the Blood Moon Pack. Strong. Respected. Everything I was not. He’d come tonight representing his Alpha, as tradition dictated. And though we’d never spoken beyond polite formalities, my heart had always been drawn to him. And I'm very aware it might be a bit difficult to measure up, I hoped the Goddess could still surprise me.

I closed my eyes, imagining it — his smile softening at the sight of me, his hand reaching out and pulling me into his warm embrace, his voice calling my name in reverence and absolute adoration.

“You are mine.”

How foolish.

The scent of wolf struck me before the footsteps did — fresh pine, snowmelt, something sharp beneath it.

Luke.

My heart stumbled.

He stepped into view, tall and broad beneath the moon’s silver light, his dark hair falling across his brow, his blue eyes narrowed in disgust…at me.

“You?” His voice was disbelief edged in fury. “It’s you?”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. The bond tugged between us with force and raw undiluted hunger. I saw it hit him too — the way his facial features changed and the tightening of his fists. But instead of surrendering to it, he recoiled as if burned.

“No. No, the Goddess wouldn’t—” His jaw clenched. “She wouldn’t curse me like this.”

Shame burned hot in my throat.

Luke turned away, pacing like a caged animal, hands fisted at his sides. “A latent? A disgrace? My mate?” His laugh was bitter. “Of course. The Moon Goddess has a cruel sense of humor.”

Luke grabbed my arm, dragging me back through the ballroom doors with careless strength. Conversations faltered. Faces turned. Silence fell.

He faced me then, eyes blazing. “I reject you, Tanya of the Moon Stone Pack. I reject this bond. I reject you.”

“I reject this girl,” he declared to the room. “Before all, before the Goddess. I reject the weakness she carries.”

Pain lanced through me, sharp and sudden. My wolf whimpered, silent but wounded, retreating deeper into whatever place she’d been caged since birth.

Laughter rippled across the hall. People looked in my father's direction with pity. I caught my father’s expression — relief laced with contempt.

“Tanya.” His voice cut through the whispers. “Go.”

That single word sealed it.

I fled.

Not to my room and the four walls I have called home my whole life.

I fled the pack.

Into the night. Into the woods. Into the unknown.

Because I understood now — there was no place for me in Moon Stone. No love. No future.

Only silence. Only shame.

Only exile.