Shadows of the Omega
Tearing through the numbness in her body and sending her sprawling into the dirt, gasping for breath.
Pain exploded across her ribs, but she didn’t cry. Because Omega wolves never cried.
Instead, she bit her tongue until she tasted iron, forced herself onto shaking hands, and picked up the firewood.
Because she had no choice.
By the time Selene was fifteen, she understood that the pack would never see her as anything more than a nuisance—barely worth keeping, barely worth feeding, only good for servitude.
The other wolves ignored her until they needed something.
Then, they didn’t ask.
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