One

Being a wolfless omega in a house brimming with powerful werewolves was a constant humiliation. No matter how brilliant you were, no matter what talents you had, without a wolf, you were immediately dismissed as useless.

In a lonely corner of the house, Elsa sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the maids scurrying below through the window. They moved with frantic energy, preparing for her sister’s first day at the academy. The scene should have been lively, even exciting, but to Elsa, it only mirrored the emptiness of her own room.

From the ground floor, faint laughter and chatter floated upward, the joyous sounds of those congratulating her sister. Frankly, gaining admission into the Elite academy was a connection-admission thing for her step-sister and her. But her step-sister, being the cherished and loved one, always had people celebrating her over everything. 

A deep sigh escaped Elsa. Princess treatment wasn’t meant for her, at least not in this life. Her wolfless fate ensured that. Over time, she had grown used to invisibility, and attention no longer mattered. All she wanted now was to survive.

Her eyes drifted to the black uniform hanging neatly in the corner. Soon, she would have to wear it. Rumors about the academy had already reached her ears, painting it as a battlefield for the strong, the wolfed, the exceptional. But Elsa had learned to fade into the background. Maybe, just maybe, she could endure.

“Elsa! Your father calls for you!” The door slammed, the yell cutting through the quiet like a whip. Elsa flinched, her eyes widening at the sudden noise.

“Okay…” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Get your ass down there in five, or you will be punished!” Barked the voice again.

Trembling, Elsa moved to the uniform and pulled it from its hanger, hands brushing the smooth fabric.

Downstairs, people gathered around a striking young woman, their praises growing louder with every word. Elsa’s gaze lifted, and for the first time, she allowed herself to fully take in her sister. Having a wolf truly elevated one’s presence. The same black uniform that Elsa wore so invisibly seemed to glow on her sister, hugging curves and radiating confidence.

“What are you ogling at?” Elsa’s stepmother’s voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and cold. Elsa’s eyes darted down, cheeks burning, hands twisting nervously by her sides.

“Fo…forgive me, Mother,” she stammered, apologizing.

Clicking her tongue, her stepmother sneered, “Such a wimp. Can’t even look me in the eye.” With a sigh, she turned her attention back to her daughter.

“Is everything ready?” A deeper, commanding voice asked. Elsa didn’t need to look up to know it was her father or her benefactor, like he preferred to be addressed. 

“Yes, darling,” her stepmother purred, entwining her hand with his. “Our daughter will be the most beautiful lady there today. I am so proud of her.”

Her step-sister’s face flushed under the praise, and Elsa felt a familiar knot of helplessness tighten in her chest. She lowered her gaze once more, wishing she could vanish entirely.

“Of course you should be. She is my only pride,” her father said, his voice calm but his message clear.

“I won’t disgrace you, Father. I promise,” her step-sister replied, her voice sweeter than candy, lilting and confident. Elsa swallowed, knowing she could never hope to match her sister. Even her voice sounded like a sweet melody. Everything about her sister was made to be praised, adored, and loved.

“You.” Her father’s sharp call made Elsa’s stomach twist. She flinched; “You” had always been the name reserved for her, cold, distant, a reminder that she was nothing more than an obligation.

“Yes, Father,” Elsa whispered, lifting her head only halfway, careful not to meet his eyes. One wrong glance could earn punishment.

“Don’t make me regret sending you to this school. If it weren’t for the promise I made to your mother, you would still be locked in one of those rooms. Are we clear?” His gaze bore into her.

“Yes, Father. I… I will remember your words.” Her voice trembled slightly.

Her stepmother scoffed, the sound dripping with amusement. “Remember? I bet she barely knows how to count. Just looking at her worries me already.” She turned to her husband, pouting in that practiced, irresistible way she always used to get her way. “Darling, are you sure about this? What if she embarrasses herself and causes problems for Bethany?”

Her father didn’t flinch. “Don’t worry. If anything happens, I will disown her myself. By then, my conscience will be clear.”

Elsa’s heart skipped. Disown her? How could she survive without a wolf, out there in that world?

“Remember,” her father added, “you are my sister’s daughter. I adopted you.” Elsa nodded silently, the words doing little to calm the fear twisting in her chest.

…

The tall, dark gates of the Elite Academy loomed ahead, imposing and cold. Even though the sun shone brightly, the place radiated mystery, danger, and challenge.

Elsa’s stomach twisted. This was going to be her new home or hell. If she wanted to survive, she needed to remain invisible, to never draw attention. Only her bold, beautiful, smart, wolfed step-sister could thrive here.

For a brief moment, she wondered if she should turn back. Could she really face this? But staying uneducated wasn’t an option. She had to find some skill, some way to make her father hate her less or maybe, just maybe, respect her a little.

The gates creaked open, revealing two massive wolf statues guarding each side. Their carved eyes seemed almost alive, sharp and watchful, and Elsa shivered.

A line of cars and people stretched out ahead as the gates swung open, revealing the academy inside. Warmth and light spilled out from the stone walls, contrasting sharply with the cold, dark exterior. Elsa couldn’t help but smile, momentarily distracted by the beauty of it all.

Then, she saw them.

Two piercing, blue-grey eyes were fixed directly on her.

Her heart didn't just skip, it hammered against her ribs. A cold shiver raced down her spine, raising the hair on her arms. She tried to look away, but she was trapped. There was something predatory, something dangerous about that gaze.

It didn't feel like a new beginning. It felt like the start of a hunt.