The Kings Omega
Flora’s world was the size of a small, cramped room in the omega quarters of the Silver Creek pack. The air always smelled faintly of herbs and drying laundry, a testament to the endless chores that filled her days. As an omega, her life was one of service, of quiet invisibility. Her wolf was small, timid, and content in the background, a stark contrast to the vibrant spirits of the higher-ranking wolves.
Today, however, a different scent filled the room—the sharp, cloying smell of sickness.
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