The Cold Vampire King's Omega

The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the crowded marketplace, silencing the chatter and drawing every eye. No one stepped forward. No one ever did. I was an Omega—born to be a punching bag for the rest.

"Do you have any idea how much that dress costs, you filthy lowlife?!" the woman shrieked, her voice slicing through the air like a whip.

"I'm sorry, Miss. It was an accident. Please forgive me." I bowed my head, swallowing every slap she threw at me.

The longer I remained unmated, the worse things got. Misery clung to me like a second skin. I blinked away tears, my hazel eyes dull and red from crying. Hugging the small bag of supplies I’d bought for the upcoming Mating Ceremony, I turned to leave.

They say unmated Omegas without the protection of a ranked mate are cursed to suffer. Some don’t even survive the heartbreak. And maybe it’s true. But I still couldn’t understand—why were we treated like something less than werewolves, when we were the same species?

“Poor Ana,” I heard one of the merchants whisper, not even trying to hide her pity. “Who would’ve thought her life would fall apart like this?”

“I’m from another pack. What happened to her?” someone else asked.

“It’s been hush-hush,” the first woman lowered her voice, conspiratorial, “but they say she was the daughter of the former Alpha and Luna.”

“No one knows what really happened. They went out for a hunt… and never came back,” another chimed in, her voice dropping even lower.

“And she didn’t take over as Alpha?” the outsider asked, confused.

“She couldn’t shift when she turned sixteen,” the Bloodmoon Pack merchants answered in unison, like a tragic chorus.

“What a shame. Her parents must be rolling in their graves. No wonder she’s just an Omega.”

One woman scoffed, clearly wanting me to hear. “I’m an Omega too, but even I outrank her. She’s nothing but a servant now. From being the pride of the pack… to its disgrace.”

I clenched the fabric in my arms and focused on finishing my errands before returning to the edge of the territory—where my tiny cottage waited. It wasn’t much. Barely livable, really. The new Alpha had ordered it built after I failed to transform. But I was grateful. At least it shielded me from the cold.

Rubbing my stinging cheek, I walked the rocky trail home, my thoughts stuck on what I’d overheard. They weren’t wrong. I had once been the heiress of this pack… until my parents vanished, and their Beta, Mr. Blackwood, took the throne.

Anyone who opposed him was quickly "removed."

Being an Omega was still better than being a rogue, I guess. Rogues had no home, no ties, and were hunted like criminals—even when they’d done nothing wrong.

I sat on the porch, pulled out my mother’s old sewing kit, and began working on the fabric I’d bought. It was simple, but I wanted to feel beautiful—at least for tonight.

‘Layla, have you sensed anything lately?’ I asked my wolf quietly. I couldn’t shift, but she was still there, buried deep inside me. Without her, I don’t know how I’d survive.

‘Actually… yes,’ she said, a dreamy hum in her voice. ‘There’s been a faint pull… to Victor’s wolf.’

My heart stopped. ‘Victor? Alpha Victor Blackwood?’ I asked, almost laughing. ‘He would never accept us. An Omega Luna? That’s unheard of.’

I remembered my friend, who was rejected by her Alpha mate the moment he discovered who she was. The pain nearly killed her. She lost her wolf entirely and had to start over among humans.

‘What if he rejects us too, Layla? Would we survive it?’

‘We’ll be fine. Trust me. If he tries, his wolf will suffer too. That bond goes both ways,’ she said gently.

I wasn’t so sure. If the Moon Goddess had truly chosen him for me… then she must hate me.

When the garment was finished, I quickly bathed, scrubbing with fragrant oils to mask the scent of fear. I needed to be ready. I needed to at least try to look like I belonged.

At the ceremony, the moon hadn’t yet risen, but I caught it—a scent that made my heart race and my stomach twist. Earthy pine, wet soil, and the sharp bite of darkwood.

Then the high priest stepped forward, beginning the Mating Ceremony.

As the full moon bathed the gathering in silver light, wolves howled and rushed to follow their instincts. I stood still, every sense sharpened. My teeth ached. My body trembled.

And then I saw him.

Victor Blackwood.

Our Alpha.

His eyes locked onto mine, and the air around us changed. I felt the bond snap into place like a thread pulled tight between our souls. His expression shifted—recognition, shock, something else I couldn’t place.

Women around us gasped. Some looked devastated. Others envious.

I let myself hope—just for a moment.

But then his face turned cold.

"I will not have a weakling for a Luna," he said loudly, voice cutting across the clearing. “You do not deserve to be my mate.”

Gasps followed as heads turned toward us. And then, with eyes like ice and a voice that struck like a blade, he spoke the words that sealed my fate:

"I, Alpha Victor Blackwood, reject you, Anastasia Elliot, as my mate."