Oc Maker Novels & Stories

I don't have a choice. My hair is circularly braided and it looks like a crown. A little curly hair hangs on both sides of my face. My makeup is just simply not that grand. My dark gray pair of eyes is also shining with happiness. And to pair my grand dress for tonight, I wear 3-inch gray strap high heels. I walk towards Jazeera who is admiringly looking at me which causes my cheeks to burn. I can feel how hot is ut now. I am not yet still that used that someone is staring at me with such emotion in their eyes.

I nod my head too. “You mean to say that all the force you’ve been using since a while ago is you trying to get yourself into were mode?” he asks. “Yes” “Well no, you don’t need to use force when getting into were mode, it’s actually the opposite, a free stance, you’ve gotten it before right?” I nod yes in response to him. “Then all you need to do is channel that memory to your now practice”

She glares at me, hurling a pan that strikes my chest and makes me stoop. "Really, who do you think you are speaking to? I am your future Luna, so stop talking, you omega!" Her voice was heard clearly. As the weakest members of the pack, omegas are more prone to injury, fatigue, and weakened immune systems than warriors, deltas, gamma, or betas. Being called omega should not feel insulting because of what she is referring to, but because of what she is referring to, it hurt me. The pain in my chest felt like something had broken in that frying pan.

The creature’s body twitched suddenly, violently enough that its shoulder bent at an unnatural angle before snapping back into place. Then came another flash through the bond. Chains. A symbol burned into flesh. Screaming. Experimentation. Valir recoiled this time, not out of fear but disgust so intense it nearly bled into my own emotions. “They were made,” I said quietly. Mara frowned. “Made by who?” I didn’t answer immediately because I already knew. Or at least I knew the kind of people capable of it. The same kind who would see the bond as something to weaponize instead of protect.

The sound of clicking could be heard in the background. Behind the brown mahogany desk sat a man typing furiously on the desktop. The man is Alexandro De Marco. An important and very well known businessman in the business world. The owner of De Marco incorporated. He is handsome, smart, cunning, cold, calculating and sexy as hell. He is known to be a Devil in the world, in short he is a force to reckon with. Women throw themselves at his feet and wish to be by his side and men want to be him. But he's cold demeanor would make you run for the hills.

“But people will still try to force it on me, won’t they?” His expression darkened. “Some will. And that’s why Jace and I are making sure no one takes that choice from you.” I hesitated before asking, “Are there other omegas?” Nolan nodded. “Yes, but not many. In packs, they’re often protected, valued. But outside of that… it’s different.” My stomach twisted. “Different how?” His jaw tensed slightly. “Unclaimed omegas—those without a pack, without protection—stand out. They draw attention, sometimes the wrong kind. That’s why it’s important you understand what you are.”

It didn't take superpowers to know that he had left the matter to her to handle as she wished; and so, she did. The Chariot, as Dennis had called to it, was exactly what it was described as: a station. Three levels high, it housed everything from a battlestation, to an armoury, a medical lab, and even a garage with more than twenty cars in storage- it was where Megan had found the McLaren she drove to the party. In short, the Chariot was a piece of incredible machinery designed to ensure an Olympus team's efficiency and success on a mission; and Megan really hoped it helped hers too.