Gwen Omniverse Novels & Stories

Gwen grumbled, shoving the golden comb into the bottom drawer of her wardrobe, burying it under a pile of discarded odds and ends. Unbeknownst to Gwen, the golden comb began to emit a soft, shimmering glow amidst Hans's old junk—a glowing mark of an unfinished bond of ownership.

Gwen cast a glance in the direction of Phil, who was standing at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a reassuring smile on his lips. "I've called you here tonight to tell you good-bye," Gwen remarked to her friend. "Greta, who is my aunt, is the one who should be Alpha, and I am elevating her to that position right now. We have come to the conclusion that, at least for the time being, I will only hold the title of Alpha in name. I am thankful to each of you for the assistance you have provided over the past few weeks. You need simply give me a call in the event that I am required for anything, and I will be here.

Gwen flipped her blonde hair, staring at the guards in disbelief. "A misunderstanding? You're the ones who've totally misunderstood. Look at this fat pig? Do you think she looks like Luna material? You even placed her in the front row like she's someone important. This woman was the Whitecrest Pack's slave. She worked as our omega and was the lowest of the lowest. How dare she sit in the front row like she's someone important? Everyone, this woman doesn't deserve to be in this place. She's not even a real Luna!" Gwen yelled. Everyone's eyes were on us, and they whispered among themselves.

Chapter 3: Gwen: The clock on the office wall said 8:47 when I finally closed the file. My back was hurting and my eyes felt awful like someone had rubbed them with sand. I had been sitting at my desk since seven that morning which translated to thirteen hours of working on contracts for a firm that paid me just enough money to keep me happy that I have a job but not enough to add to my other jobs and get exactly just by. Omega work. That was what they called it when you had no pack backing, no Alpha's seal on your employment record, no one to call if the hours stretched past decent.

I soon heard their car leave, I heaved out a sigh. Did Gwen say anything to them? Or alert anybody or tell her friends, no she wouldn't. I will just wait for her to come back and question her then find a way to contact Tomas, My second hand man. I need to get over this sh*t as soon as possible, The children of ruins are getting comfortable. And I swear, I will make sure to fuck them up once I return. I fisted my hands. † † † I waited patiently for Gwen to come through the door after she closed up the bakery. She had changed her clothes from earlier, “Hey” she said as she entered.

Well, except for the gaze of the man burning holes through my head, I was fine. "I'm Damon. You caught my attention since the beginning of the show but I did not want to disturb you so I waited till the end of the show to approach you." I breathed out as if he was nervous to talk to me. Looking at him now, he had great looks. He was pretty handsome and he was taller than I am. Very well. But not as tall as…. Stop that right now, it thought. "Oh….. I… I'm not very good at this. My name is Gwen. I'm a fashion enthusiast that luckily got an invite to come to a great show like this one." I said to him and he laughed. He had a nice smile.

Gwen looked down at the most powerful man in the city kneeling at her feet and she felt a surge of triumph that the original Gwen never got to experience. She had taken the Alpha CEO and turned his dangerous yandere instincts into a leash that she now held in her own hands. She knew that Kayla and Damian would be regrouping and she knew that the "Original Male Lead" wouldn't give up so easily but for now she had the monster exactly where she wanted him. "Get up baby" she murmured as she hooked her chin over his head and felt his arms tighten around her in a silent vow of eternal protection. "We have a gala to attend tomorrow night and I want everyone to see exactly who the master of the Sant

(Lucian POV) I was halfway through a report from my Beta when the air shifted. It wasn’t sound, it wasn’t scent. It was instinct. My wolf lifted its head inside me, alert. A pulse of unease rippled through my chest - sharp, urgent. Ivy. I thought I didn’t wait for the Beta to finish speaking, I turned. Across the dim edge of the burial grounds, I saw them. Five omegas. A tight circle. Small bodies pressed behind one - Ivy

Above him stood three dark shapes in the moonlight. Wolves. But not from his old pack. Their scent was strange. “Please,” Aeris croaked. “I don’t know you. I didn’t do anything.” “We know who you are,” the tallest one said. A woman with a silver braid knelt beside him. “The scentless one. The omega who shouldn’t exist.” “Then you know I’m not worth killing.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” she said, drawing a knife that gleamed in the moonlight. “Your death is worth everything.”

One of them, a tall warrior with dark curls, steps forward and says softly, “Luna, these are for you. The pack wanted to thank you for being here… for existing.” My breath catches. “For existing?” He nods. “You are the first and only woman among us since the beginning of the punishment . The Goddess blessed us through you. You brought warmth where there was only duty.” Another omega steps closer, offering a simple string bracelet made from polished stones. “We made this together. It’s not much, but we wanted you to have something from us.” I stare at the gifts — the bright fruit, the fresh honey, the trembling sincerity in their hands — and I can’t speak for a long moment. “You didn’t have t