Chapter 1

The Forgotten Omega

The wind howled through the corridors of the Stormbringer Packhouse, rattling the wooden doors as if they, too, wished to escape. Ayla Stormbringer shivered, tugging her thin clothes tighter around her shoulders. 

The cold bit through the fabric, and her hands shaking from the numerous plates she had to wash with cold water. Her fingers were raw and red, and she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever feel warm again.

“You aren’t done yet,” Ayla could hear the displeasure in her stepmother’s voice. “When you're finished with the dishes, your father's chamber needs polishing. And don't think about slacking off, or you'll face the consequences.”

“That duty belongs to the maids,” Alya uttered before she could think, her voice barely above a whisper. Maybe it’s because of all the hardship and maltreatment she had to endure from her stepmother and everyone in the pack despite being the alpha’s daughter. 

Her words hung in the air, a spark of challenge that she regretted almost immediately. She knew that speaking out of turn would only earn her a punishment, but she couldn't help the frustration that bubbled up inside her.

Paa! Alya's wet hands left the cold water and clutched her cheeks, trying to keep the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes from dropping down. 

She was so tired of being treated like a servant, tired of being blamed for her mother's death, and tired of being an outcast among her own pack.

“You do not speak to me in that manner!” her stepmother’s voice thundered. Ayla closed her eyes and wished everything could just go away. 

She could hear the mocking sounds of her stepsister and her friends, giggling at her predicament. Why do they have to be so cruel?

“Yes, Luna,” Ayla bowed as she walked away, she laid insults on her stepmother in her mind, but she knew better than to speak them out loud. 

She had learned to keep her thoughts to herself, to hide her feelings behind a mask of obedience. It was the only way to survive in a pack where she was seen as a weakness.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Ayla thought. “But things changed after her mother’s death. And even worse she was blamed for it. A wolfless Omega who couldn’t defend herself,” she couldn’t stop the tears that flowed through her cheeks. She missed her mother so much and wished she was here to protect her.

After cleaning up her father’s chambers, Ayla headed out. She held the piece of fabric of clothes on her as the wind rushed at her, whipping her hair into a frenzy. 

But it was nothing compared to the icy stares of the pack members as she hurried past them. She kept her head down, knowing better than to meet their eyes.

A mistake. An abomination. A wolfless omega.

The words followed her like a curse, muttered in hushed tones whenever she walked by. She had long stopped flinching at them.

Tonight was no different.

The pack had gathered in the grand hall for an important announcement, and though she knew she wasn’t wanted, she had been summoned by her father—the Alpha.

Alya hesitated outside the heavy oak doors. Her heart pounded, her stomach twisted with unease. She had spent years learning to blend into the background, to make herself invisible. Being called before the pack never ended well for her.

Steeling herself, she pushed the doors open.

The room fell into a suffocating silence. All eyes turned to her. She could see the disrespect in their eyes, the disgust, and the hatred.

At the center of the hall stood Alpha Cedric, her father. His face was carved from stone, his blue eyes as cold as the winter sky. Beside him, Luna Seraphina—her stepmother—smiled, a cruel twist of painted lips. Ayla felt a shiver run down her spine as she met her stepmother's gaze.

“You called for me, Alpha,” Alya said softly, her voice steady despite the dread coiling in her chest.

“Yes,” her father said, his voice devoid of warmth. “You have been given an opportunity. One that ensures you are no longer a burden to this pack.”

"Burden?" Ayla’s breath hitched. She looked at him, disbelief clouding her eyes. "I am your daughter, Father!" she cried, desperation filled her voice.

Alya swallowed hard. Her father didn’t say a word. He gave her a mean stare and she fell silent, pondering over this so-called opportunity. 

The last time he had spoken of ‘opportunities,’ her mother had died saving her from a rogue attack.

“What… kind of opportunity?” she asked warily.

The doors opened again, and the scent of pine and smoke filled the air. Alpha Asher strode in, his presence commanding. Tall, powerful, with dark hair and piercing green eyes, he was the kind of Alpha who made others kneel without question.

Alya’s blood ran cold.

“This is Alpha Asher of the Moonlit Pack,” her father continued. “He has agreed to take you as his wife.”

Alya’s breath caught in her throat.

Marriage?

She barely processed the murmurs of approval from the gathered pack members, the way her stepmother beamed in satisfaction. Her gaze darted to Asher, searching for any hint of warmth—of kindness.

She found none.

His expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes made her stomach churn.

“But Alpha Asher is married, he already has a Luna,” Ayla cried out to her father

“This is a contract,” Asher said smoothly, his voice a low rumble. “You will act as my second wife, you will be given protection and a home, but in return, you will serve a purpose.”

Alya’s hands clenched into fists. “And what purpose is that?”

He tilted his head, amusement flickering across his features. “You’ll tend to my Luna.”

Kali.

The name sent a shiver down her spine. Everyone knew of Asher’s beloved mate, the Luna , who had been in a coma for two years.

Alya’s heart pounded. “You… want me to be her caretaker?”

“It is a generous offer,” her father said coldly. “Considering what little value you bring to this pack.”

The room felt suffocating. Alya could see no way out. If she refused, she would be cast out, left to fend for herself in a world that had never shown her mercy.

She swallowed her pride, blinking back the sting of tears. “I accept.”

A satisfied smirk curled on Asher’s lips.

“Good,” he murmured.

Alya barely felt the weight of the contract as it was placed into her hands. She was too busy ignoring the uneasy twist in her gut—the whisper of a warning that this was only the beginning of her downfall.

That night, as she packed her few belongings, she stole one last glance at the place she had once called home.

She should have known she was stepping into a new kind of cage.

A gilded one.

A cruel one.

One that would break her before it ever set her free.