Omega Collar Novels & Stories

Into the space between that shackle scar and her palm. He turned his hand and gripped hers. His knuckles blanched white with the force. "I want you. That Omega in the laundry, scrubbing bloodied clothes with chilblained hands. The one hundred and thirty-four white coats you folded. Every one cuff to cuff, collar to the left. The one you washed. There was blood-reversal toxin residue on the collar.

added Alpha Giovanni. "O-Okay," I stammered. I heard his laugh; he looked at me from head to toe. "You look beautiful when you just wake up. And next time, check what you're wearing before you open the door. I'm just thinking that other werewolves will see what you're wearing. I'm starting to get jealous," Alpha Giovanni kept averting his eyes while saying that. What does he mean? I looked at what I was wearing, which is what the omegas gave me to wear when I go to sleep. It was white lingerie that was too fit for my body.

I opened the door to find a woman wearing a purple dress and was accompanied by someone. "Who are you supposed to be and what are you doing here?" She pushed me and entered the house and I was so tempted to just leave this house and never come back. The collar on my neck still stands and I can’t open it. A collar is a mark of ownership, especially for an omega. When an omega wears a collar that usually means that they belong or are claimed by someone. There was a sharp decline in the population of omegas in the recent decade. That’s why the government revised the laws and eliminated some of them which weren’t in favour of the omegas.

the fairly old man smiled and stood very close to Angela. Angela had been bound to a chair with shackles. It was very tight that she couldn't move a limb. "Hello, the Omega" the fairly old man greeted her and laughed. "My name is Malcolm. I'm very sure you know that before lurking around my house" he shook his head. "There is a misunderstanding. You are making a mistake. I am not lurking around your house" Angela pleaded. "Is it also a mistake that you are an Omega?" Malcolm asked quickly.

Luis stared at her blankly. "You do." Abruptly, Hailey sat up and leaned closer, brushing her hair to one side. "I need to make sure." Alpha Rowan's words had kept her awake all night. How could she be certain she was an Omega? Her mother had claimed she was, but she had also repeatedly mentioned that Hailey was born wrong. Not only had he sniffed her, but he had also asked if she had ever been to the Howling. Most wolves experienced their first shift during the gathering, where being among kindred spirits helped.

It was cool and heavy in her palm. “Open it,” he said. His voice was a low rumble, like stones grinding together deep in the earth. It vibrated through her, settling in her bones. She fumbled with the tiny clasp. Her fingers felt clumsy, too large for the delicate mechanism. Inside, nestled on a bed of black satin, was a thin silver collar. It was delicate, almost like a choker necklace, but there was no mistaking its purpose. In the center, soldered to the band, was a small, perfect silver ring, an O-ring. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once.

His hand fell from hers and he stared at the mark on her neck with a mix of several overwhelming emotions. She tried to read him, the clenching of his fists by his side, the intensity with which he stared at the downturned crescent moon mark on her neck. A mark all Omegas are born with, a downturned crescent moon. It is a symbol too, of their position in the wolf chain, they are the lowest of the lowest, and they live and are treated as such. Servants.

The One Time Rejected Omega Chapter 18 *********Missing******* Alpha Ellis POV I walked non stop in my clan. “I hope that stupid hell of an omega is okay!!,” “I wouldn’t want to loose my pack because of that idiot called Arielle,” I complained. “Huh Huh Huh….” I heard someone groaning. I turned to where the sound was coming from and I saw who the person was. My eyes widened as I saw my guards choking on their words’”

I went down hard, the back of my head bouncing off packed snow, and for a second all I could do was stare at the sky and try to remember how to breathe. My ribs screamed. My lungs wouldn’t work, and then it was on me. The Crescent Wolf was massive, bigger than any of ours, its fur black as wet coal except for the white crescent scar that cut over its left eye and down its cheek. It smelled like blood and snow and something rotten. It straddled me, pinning my shoulders with its front paws, and I felt the claws even through my cloak. Ten of them. Curved. Each as long as my finger.

The crest of Unit Vanguard—a wolf's head superimposed over a shield. "Turn around," he ordered. I hesitated. Then turned my back to him. I felt his large, warm hands on my shoulders. He didn't touch my skin. He adjusted the strap of the dress. His movements precise. Professional. "The collar implies slavery," Barzil murmured. His voice rumbled against my back. "Slavery implies weakness. And the Vanguard is not weak." He fastened the pin to the bodice of my dress. Right over my heart. The metal was cold against the silk. But it felt heavy. Anchoring.