Omega Bruce Wayne Novels & Stories

Why did Cody let go of me so easily? Not long after, the future Belta, Bruce Atton Comes out. He announces, “Mr. Stark wants to see you all individually. You will be invited to his office.” He is a handsome man, in a black suit. He looks professional and kind. I notice that he deliberately walks past Betty and says in a low voice, “Easy.” I wonder why he does it. I want to ask Betty, but there are too many werewolves around. I am afraid of being beaten again.

You wouldn’t believe what happened next! Alpha Genesis’ POV: “You’re going right?” My beta asked me, staring. “I’m not sure it’s appropriate, Dickson.” I said. About 2 weeks ago I had gotten an email saying I was invited to an omegas birthday party. I didn’t think it was appropriate to go to someone’s birthday party that was in my pack unless I actually knew them. I definitely did not know this one. Also, everyone would expect me to go to their birthday parties if I show up to hers. Wouldn’t they?…

I ask. Bruce looks at Umbra, and I know the look he is giving her. He wants to tell me the truth. "Dr. Braum is a vampire. He lives in your world and is a very accomplished research physician," Umbra says. I look at Bruce. "So what are you, the vampire assistant?" I ask him. "I guess so are you," Bruce says. True, I guess we both are vampire assistants, but I did not know. "Can you help me with my family history?" I ask Umbra.

I argued. “Lesson one….” Lucan said as he walked much closer. I could feel his breath against my face, fresher and heavier this time. My heart skipped a beat as I looked into his eyes, but I looked away immediately. “Rowan is the beta. You’re the Luna. Who holds higher power?” I swallowed, then answered. “The Luna,” “Who is?” “Me,” I said. His grin was wide and noticeable even if I wasn’t staring at him.

“But you’re not in this alone, no matter how much you think you are.” I looked at him then, really looked at him. There was no hesitation in his words, no doubt. Just the quiet, steady certainty that he meant every single thing he said. I hesitated before asking, “What does it even mean to be an omega?” Nolan was quiet for a moment, then leaned back, considering his words carefully. “Omegas are rare,” he started. “They have… a different energy than others. It’s not about strength or dominance—it’s about balance. Omegas connect to alphas in ways that no one else can. It’s instinctual.”

"Bruce Silvermoon! Cici, you're always so buried in your potions, you probably don't follow this stuff. He's the sole Alpha heir of the Silver Moon Pack, the biggest celebrity in the werewolf world!" "...Do you have a high-definition magic photo of him?" "Sure, look at this moving picture." The image on the newspaper began to move. In the clip, the man was wearing an impeccably tailored black suit, stepping out of a luxury car. His eyes were filled with a chilling murderous intent and authority. Though he lacked the tender, doting look he used to give me, I'd recognize that face even if it were reduced to ash. That was my Bruce, the one who only knew how to wash socks, scrub cauldrons, and w

I’m currently sitting in my dad’s office hugging my dad. “Thank you, my sweetheart. I really needed that,” he sighs. You see, I am an Omega. Not the lowest of the pack that you normally hear about, but the kind who has a very special ability. I can calm people with just my presence, but it’s more effective if I am in close proximity to them. When I was brought to my parents, my omega waves were crazy strong. They still are, but back then, they started a war.

"A what?" He laughed. "An Omega man. He doesn't care about being seen by his peers as the toughest, smartest, most popular." "Like the typical alpha," she commented. "Exactly. Omega men have a resourcefulness and cunning to get the job done with their own skill. They are all things alpha and more." He swallowed some coffee. "When I left for the Marines, my father gave me a tiny pin to wear, the Greek Omega symbol. He told me to carry it into battle and use it as a guiding force in my life. It gave me strength without wearing my ego on my sleeve."

He hated that it affected him. “I don’t understand why you use so many suppressants,” Uncle Wayne said, his nostrils flaring. “You don’t even smell like an omega anymore—it’s unnatural. Your scent was the only semi-attractive thing about you. Of course no one wants to dance with you now.”

Wayne's gruff voice made her study the man. He was a lot more buff than Rooka, although their height was the same. Deep-set amber-colored eyes, set in an angular face with a few days growth of beard. The scar on the left side of his face added a dangerous look. Wayne was like one of Death's General, and the sudden action was contradictory.