The Alpha's Omega Luna

(Kael’s POV)

The silence in the Obsidian Pack’s Grand Hall was an insult. It was the heavy, suffocating quiet of wolves waiting for me to perform, to make a choice that determined their future. I stood before the hearth, heat failing to thaw the ice in my veins, every nerve ending screaming with dissatisfaction.

I was twenty-eight, the Alpha, and utterly alone, atleast that’s what my parents keep screaming at me.

My inner wolf, an obsidian beast of immense power, was pacing a relentless track in my mind, its low growl a constant, demanding thrum beneath my breastbone. Not here. Not one of them.

For the third night this month, my parents had orchestrated a “Gathering” a polite term for a cattle call where daughters from every allied pack were presented as potential Lunas.

Fucking pimps. 

The air was thick with cheap perfumes, nervous sweat, and the cloying ambition of hopeful mothers. It made my nostrils flare with disgust.

I focused on the latest unfortunate soul standing before me: a pretty, doe-eyed girl named Serena, whose fear drowned out the scent of her supposed purity.

“Serena,” my voice was a low, resonant baritone, capable of commanding a thousand-strong pack with a single syllable. “Your father spoke highly of your loyalty. Loyalty to whom?”

Her composure cracked. Her eyes darted to her father, then back to my immovable face. “To the Obsidian Pack, Alpha. And to you, as its leader.”

My lips barely curved a cold, humorless expression. “My pack requires a Luna who can lead, not merely follow. A woman who can withstand a challenge, not one who wilts under a single question. You may leave.”

The dismissal was absolute. Serena fled. The silence returned, more charged than before. 

I won’t deny I do make these events a little entertaining for me after having to attend over a hundred of these. Making them show me how they would shout at me, only to intimidate them for raising their voice at their Alpha . Do some hundred push ups that a real Luna could do anyday. And a lots more. 

“Must you be so deliberately cruel, Kael?” My mother, Luna Lyra, glided out of the shadows, sleek and deceptive in blood-red silk. She possessed a cool, manipulative intelligence I often found more unnerving than my father’s blunt brutality.

“Cruelty is efficiency, Mother,” I said, not looking at her. “I am not interested in a political arrangement. I am waiting for my mate. The one my wolf recognizes instantly. The one whose scent will shatter this unbearable monotony.”

“That ‘unbearable monotony’ is the peace we secured for you,” Alpha Darius, my father interjected, his voice heavy with self-importance. He approached, placing a heavy, territorial hand on my shoulder, a gesture I tolerated only barely. 

“That primal recognition you crave is a myth, boy. A Luna is chosen for power, for alliance. You will select one of these girls before the next moon. This Pack needs stability.”

I shrugged off the hand. “I need my fated mate, Father. The unrest you feel in the pack is the reflection of my own. Until my wolf is satisfied, there will be no peace.”

Rhys, my Beta and only friend, saved me from having to say something truly unforgivable. He leaned against a marble pillar, his usual snark a welcome shield.

“He’s got a point, Darius,” Rhys drawled. “Our Alpha here is getting progressively grumpier. He’s starting to smell less like fine scotch and more like an irritable bear in hibernation. Find the poor woman already, Kael, so I can go back to chasing women without the risk of you rending me limb from limb.”

My eyes flickered to Rhys, a hint of grudging amusement breaking the severity. “Your fear is noted, Rhys. Now keep silent.”

I took a slow, deep breath, searching the room one last time, tasting the air for that promised scent that elusive truth that would cut through the manufactured reality of my life. I smelled my father’s ambition, my mother’s deceit, and Rhys’s loyal, grounding scent of rain and old leather. But nothing else.

I needed to shift the focus, to cut the tension with a blade of authority. I needed a distraction, something to prove that my power was absolute, even over the trivialities of the pack structure.

My gaze swept across the hall until it landed on the Omegas tasked with refreshing the food and drink the near-invisible caste. They moved like ghosts, heads bowed, trained to be non-entities.

And then I saw her.

She was bent low, adjusting a flower arrangement near the edge of the hall, near the shadows where the Obsidian stone met the floor. She was thin, almost fragile, but there was a stillness to her movements that was strangely mesmerizing. She didn’t scurry or shuffle like the others; she simply moved, as if the floor itself was afraid to creak beneath her.

But I also noticed some men, higher rank than her trying to tease her, making her do tasks that made her bow down, giving those assholes a look at her fine ass. Well I would just let it be but I was undeniably bored her so I wanted her. 

I had seen her before, of course. She was part of the background, a face without a name, until now. The fear radiating off her was palpable a clean, sharp scent that was intensely compelling, a strange counterpoint to the synthetic ambition of the other females. Her hair, a deep, unremarkable brown, was pulled back severely, but a single tendril had escaped, brushing the pale skin of her neck.

And it was that neck, slender and exposed, that drew my attention. The vulnerability of it was an invitation.Her face now almost teary due to those men. A cold, ruthless decision formed. It wasn't about finding my mate; it was about asserting a new layer of my power.

"You," I commanded, my voice snapping across the silence like a whip.

Rebecca froze instantly. She didn't look up. Her whole body locked into a posture of absolute submission.

“The girl by the flowers,” I reiterated, my patience thin. “Raise your head.”

She did so slowly, reluctantly. Her eyes were a soft, muted brown, wide with paralyzing terror. She looked at me for a fraction of a second before dropping her gaze back to the floor, her breath barely moving in her chest.

“What is your name?”

Her voice was a breathy whisper. “R-Rebecca, Alpha.”

“Rebecca,” I repeated, testing the sound. It was plain, simple. “From this moment, you are no longer assigned to the barracks. You will serve as my personal attendant in my private wing. You will sleep in my quarters. Your duties will be confined to me.”

The collective gasp from the surrounding pack members was audible. Specially the women. To elevate an Omega one of the lowest, least regarded members to such intimate proximity was unprecedented. It was a calculated, deliberate insult to the expectations of my parents.

I had no solid reason as to why I chose her. She wasn’t distinctly beautiful or anything but I just wanted her. It would leave the others questioning more why her and not them.

No one could question me anyways. 

Darius’s face was thunderous. Lyra was staring at Rebecca with pure, venomous hatred.

“Kael, this is unacceptable,” Darius growled.

“It is my will,” I stated simply, fixing Rebecca with a stare that brooked no argument. “You will report to my wing immediately. Failure to comply will be considered an act of treason.”

I watched the conflict in her eyes she was terrified of me, yet even more terrified of disobeying. She dipped into a deep, shaking curtsey. “Yes, Alpha.”

Rhys, standing ten feet away, finally straightened up, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. Our eyes met.

He didn't need to speak; his expression said everything: Enjoy your new toy, Alpha. I'll be watching.

I turned away, the hunt over. I hadn't found my mate, but I had found a distraction a silent, compliant female to keep close, one whose fragile terror and quiet obedience I could dominate until the true Luna decided to surface. 

She would be an obedient shadow, a testament to my power, and perhaps, a temporary antidote to my frustrating solitude.

The claiming was just beginning.