Omegaverse Slick Novels & Stories

Even without a wolf's scent, my instincts were screaming. ​A man stepped into the sickly yellow light of the neon sign. He didn't smell like a wolf. He didn't even smell entirely human. He smelled like ozone, old parchment, and burnt circuitry. He was an Outcaster—a "Static," one of the rare humans who lived on the fringes of the Lycan corporate world, surviving by selling the one thing wolves couldn't master: pure, unadulterated data. ​"Nobody is looking for me," I rasped. My voice sounded like it had been dragged over gravel. "I'm an Omega. I'm nothing."

Drake, Caden, and Zoren were immediately at my side, their hands on my shoulders. “Lucen, calm down, man,” Caden urged, his voice tight. “What the hell was that?” I took a deep breath, wrestling Vulk back into his cage, the effort leaving me trembling. I nodded, letting them think it was over. As if on cue, the velvet curtain at the entrance of our booth was pulled aside. Eight omegas glided in, a perfect, beautiful assortment. They released a wave of combined pheromones... floral and sweet, designed to entice and disarm.

Kessler's voice booms through every speaker. "Dr. Price, your services are no longer required. All units, Protocol Omega is now active. Destroy everything. Including the subjects." The building shudders violently. Through the broken doorway, I hear them. Serum wolves. Dozens of them. Moving in perfect synchronization. Coming for us. "Shield won't hold against that many," Micah says. His face is pale. Strained. "Not for long." Shane and Miles brace the doorway. Theo abandons the computer. "We need to move. Now."

Some because they dare not defy the Lycans and others were tempted by the millions of dollars that came with selling off their omegas. Marcus turned sharply, horror flickering across his face. "Can it be what I'm thinking?!”

"You really thought this was Grimhilde's idea? Nope, it's all Marcus. He's sick of you. Doesn't wanna fork over the money or let you walk away clean." "You..." I couldn't even get the words out. "Oh right," she added, suddenly perky, "how do you like your little stray wolves? Fun fact–they're not just into some real twisted stuff with she-wolves. One of them? HIV positive." "We'll give you a little something in a minute. Brand new formula-guaranteed to turn you into a drooling bitch in heat, moaning and begging to be fucked. And don't worry, they'll film every second. By sunrise, you'll be a viral sensation-the slut of the pack, ruined and owned."

And who deserves to get slapped by the Moon Goddess herself? Also! I just released a new book! 🖤 ✨ MARKED ON ICE: MY ALPHA ROOMMATE IS AN OMEGA ✨ It's an omegaverse story filled with drama, tension, chaos, and questionable life decisions. Please check it out when you have time and don't forget to leave reviews, comments, and votes. Those little things help more than you know. Thank you for being here. Thank you for choosing this story. And thank you for trusting me with your emotions.

Thaddeus said softly as he stroked Aiden's red cheek. “It's called slick. You know there are dominant males and submissive males. Well, you're an Omega, which means you're submissive. All submissive males produce a liquid substance from their ass called slick. It's the same liquid a lady produces from her vagina, but in men, we call it slick. It's a lubricant for sex that your body creates when you're aroused.” “Oh,” Aiden said, feeling silly he didn't know. The Alpha was quiet for a moment as he watched the Omega. Thaddeus raised an eyebrow before speaking.

I must be dreaming. She lightly chuckles. “You aren’t dreaming. This is all real, and there are several omegas in this pack. To tell you the truth, this pack is one of the first packs that I’ve met where an omega is equal, if not a little bit above the others, even alphas.” This can’t be true. I have never heard of any pack like that before.

“If you don’t want to lose your tongue. This omega is my mate and the queen of this region.” I blinked in surprise as Byron’s voice rang out, his hand gesturing to Olenna. “I don’t know what age you’re living in, but here, omega’s do important work.” She nodded slightly at him in acknowledgment. “An omega?” The guest said, contempt ringing in his voice. “I couldn’t tell.” “Perhaps you need to get your eyes checked.” Olenna said coolly. “We have excellent doctors here.” “How dare—“ “That’s enough.” Draven said Abd the hall immediately quietened. His gaze narrowed on the guest and those behind him. “Don’t forget whose council you’re currently standing in. This isn’t Europe.”

I pull out the design I sketched for him: a set of interlocking blades wrapped around the Sovereign crest. It's more than ink—it's loyalty written in blood and steel. Our pack's different. We don't have omegas. Just me, Jacek, and a handful of neutrals who decided to turn survival into something that looks a hell of a lot like family. Like Miles, they're the ones who keep the gears turning—not built to dominate or submit, just wolves who do whatever needs doing. It's not traditional, but it works for us. Miles studies the sketch, lips curving. "That's clean, man. You nailed it."