The Cursed Alpha’s Wolfless Omega

Elara

The sting of icy water jerks me awake.

I gasp and curl in on myself, clutching the tattered blanket to my chest. The bucket clatters to the stone floor, and a low growl rumbles above me.

“Up, wolfless!” Marra, one of the head omegas, stands over me, sneering. Her bulk fills the cramped space of the sleeping quarters, her sharp eyes glittering in the dim firelight. “The kitchen’s a mess, and Alpha Garrick won’t be pleased if breakfast isn’t ready when he rises.”

I scramble off the thin straw pallet, biting back a groan as my bare feet touch the freezing floor. My body protests, bruises from yesterday’s work throbbing beneath my ragged tunic. Hunger gnaws at me, sharp and relentless, but I bow my head and murmur, “Yes, Marra.”

She smirks, clearly pleased by my submission. “Good. Maybe today you’ll manage not to screw up.”

Her words cut, but I swallow them down. I’ve learned better than to fight back. A wolfless omega has no voice, no protection—not even a wolf to rely on. Without a wolf, I’m weaker, slower, an embarrassment to the Bloodfang Pack. Even among omegas, I’m at the very bottom.

Marra strides out, barking orders at the others. I gather my threadbare blanket and tuck it beneath my pallet before hurrying after her. The sleeping quarters are nothing more than a drafty shack attached to the main hall, separated from the pack house by a narrow yard of frozen mud. The other omegas hurry ahead, none sparing me a glance. I don’t expect them to.

In their eyes, I’m cursed.

The kitchen is chaos when I arrive, the air thick with the scent of smoke, meat, and too many unwashed bodies. Marra immediately sets me to work scrubbing pots while the others prepare food. I scrub until my knuckles crack and bleed, until my shoulders burn. My stomach growls with every whiff of sizzling bacon and bread, but I know better than to snatch even a crumb.

Once, when I was younger and hungrier, I’d stolen a crust of bread. The beating that followed left scars I still carry.

The pack begins to stir as dawn paints the horizon pale gray. Deep voices rumble through the walls, accompanied by the heavy tread of boots. Laughter echoes—rough and cruel. My heart pounds faster. When the alphas and betas gather, omegas must be invisible.

Especially me.

I keep my head down, eyes fixed on the pot I’m scrubbing, but I can’t block out the sound of Alpha Garrick’s voice. It rolls through the hall like thunder, cold and commanding.

“Is he here yet?” Garrick demands.

“Soon, Alpha,” a beta replies. “Scouts say Kael’s party crossed the river at dawn.”

Kael.

The name sends a ripple of unease through the room. Even the other omegas still for a heartbeat. I’ve only ever heard rumors of the Ironhide Pack’s Alpha—a ruthless warlord known for crushing rival packs beneath his heel. They say he’s as merciless as he is powerful. That he leaves no survivors. That his wolf is black as midnight, his temper worse.

And now he’s coming here.

The betas murmur among themselves, voices low and urgent. I catch fragments of conversation as I strain my ears.

“… needs a breeder…”

“… strong bloodlines…”

“… offering one of ours…”

My grip tightens on the scrub brush, breath hitching. A breeder. There’s only one reason a visiting alpha would demand such a thing: to claim an omega female to bear his heirs.

Ice trickles through my veins.

They wouldn’t choose me, would they? I’m wolfless, the lowest of the low. Surely Garrick would offer a healthy omega with a strong wolf, someone who could give Kael the powerful pups he wants.

I force myself to focus on the pot in my hands, trying to block out the rising panic. It’s not me. It can’t be me.

But as the morning wears on, I notice the glances. Marra’s gaze lingers too long, filled with a cruel sort of satisfaction. The other omegas avoid looking at me entirely. A cold, crawling dread begins to settle in my gut.

By the time the breakfast feast is ready, my hands are raw and red. Omegas serve silently, heads bowed as the higher ranks gather in the hall. The scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and honey fills the air, making my stomach twist painfully. My mouth waters, but I don’t dare lick my lips.

I’m invisible. I have to be.

Garrick sits at the head of the table, his massive frame draped in furs. His dark eyes gleam with ambition as he surveys his warriors. When Kael finally arrives, the hall falls silent.

He’s taller than I imagined, broad-shouldered and imposing, with a presence that sucks the air from the room. His black hair is tied back at his nape, and his sharp, angular features are set in a scowl. Even from across the hall, I can feel the weight of his power pressing down like a physical force. His wolf lurks beneath his skin, dangerous and barely restrained.

For one fleeting second, his gaze sweeps the room—and lands on me.

My breath catches. It’s like being pinned beneath a predator’s claws. My instinct screams at me to run, but my feet remain rooted to the floor. Then his attention shifts, dismissing me as easily as one might ignore a speck of dirt. I release a shaky exhale.

The alphas greet each other with stiff formality before sitting. Negotiations begin over plates of food, their voices rising and falling like the growl of distant thunder. I catch only snippets.

“… strength through unity…”

“… territory expansion…”

“… payment agreed upon…”

Then Kael’s voice, low and cold: “And the breeder?”

A tense silence follows. My pulse pounds in my ears as I risk a glance toward the table. Garrick leans back in his chair, lips curling into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“She will be ready by nightfall,” he says.

I grip the edge of the serving table so hard my nails dig into the wood. She. The word reverberates through me like a death knell. My breath comes in shallow, panicked bursts.

Marra’s hand clamps down on my shoulder, nails biting into my skin. “Don’t you dare drop that tray,” she hisses, her breath hot against my ear. There’s a gleam of vicious satisfaction in her eyes. “You’ve been chosen, wolfless.”

“No,” I whisper, so soft no one else can hear. My body sways, knees threatening to give way. “Not me.”

Marra’s smile is cruel. “Who else would they give away? You’re worthless here, Elara. At least this way, you’ll serve some purpose.”

Her words slice deeper than any blade. My mind reels, terror crashing over me in suffocating waves. Leave the pack? Be given to a stranger—a monster like Kael—to bear his children?

I can’t. I won’t.

But what choice do I have?

The rest of the feast passes in a haze. I move through the motions, serving food, clearing plates, bowing my head whenever a higher rank looks my way. Inside, I’m screaming.

When the hall finally empties, I stagger back to the kitchen. The other omegas whisper and glance at me, some with pity, others with thinly veiled scorn. I keep my head down, fists clenched, and scrub until my fingers go numb.

Tonight. Garrick said she would be ready by nightfall. That means I have only hours before they take me away.

My chest tightens. My breaths come fast and shallow. I want to run, to hide, but where could I possibly go? A wolfless omega alone in the wild wouldn’t last a day. And if I’m caught… the punishment would be worse than death.

Still, a tiny spark ignites deep inside me—a stubborn ember of defiance that refuses to die.

I am not nothing.

I am not theirs to trade.

As darkness falls and the pack house grows quiet, I curl on my pallet, wide-eyed and trembling. The icy wind howls outside, rattling the thin walls. I hug my blanket close, heart hammering.

Tonight, my life ends. Or maybe, just maybe… it begins.