Shattered Omega Novels & Stories

"The Alpha’s car is completely totaled. They didn't survive that blast." "I don't care about the driver," Marcus's voice boomed, closer now, dripping with absolute malice. "Find the Riverstone omega. She’s the prize. Without her, Hayes has no bloodline to pass down his title." My heart hammered violently against my ribs. I couldn't shift. I didn't have claws, or fangs, or the raw muscle of a warrior wolf. My inner wolf was pacing frantically behind my ribs, whimpering in terror, completely trapped inside a human body that couldn't defend itself. I was entirely an un-shifted omega, stuck beneath a limp, six-foot-four alpha.

Kira’s howl rose through him and he let it come, let it fill the space behind his ribs, let it take everything the grief had opened up and turn it into something that moved in one direction only. “You don’t know what I am.” His voice came out fractured and enormous simultaneously, filling the temple without rising to a shout. “I am an Omega. The last of the most powerful bloodline this world has ever produced.” The white returned to his eyes and kept going, silver light bleeding through the cracks in the floor around his feet. “And what I give you tonight will follow your souls past death.” He raised his foot and brought it down. The floor split open in every direction from the point of impa

“And I didn’t summon you here for pleasantries. Tell me who you are and what you are exactly.” Her throat bobbed, and fingers curled into her top like they could hide her. “I’m Dextera Neville, an Omega of Bisclaveret Pack, under the reign of Alpha Kestrel Wagner, son of Nelson Wagner, Sovereign Of His Bloodline.” I folded my arms. “Save me the hierarchy. I want real answers. You know what I'm talking about, young lady.” “I… I don’t...” I cut her off. “What happened last night, Dextera? You’re a wolfless Omega as far as I know. That’s what your records from Bisclaveret said. You never shifted! But what I saw out there in those woods was not an ordinary shift.”

ON THE SUMMIT The world exploded in a shower of crimson sparks and shrieking metal. The crystal pillar housing Vanessa flared with an incandescent, unstable light, then went dark. The runes etched into its surface cracked with a sound like gunshots. The violent pull on her essence ceased so abruptly it was a physical shock. Omega staggered, his chant cutting off as the stolen power he'd been channeling vanished, leaving a void that echoed with psychic backlash. He stared at his hands, then at the dead pillar, his face a mask of utter, incomprehensible fury. "No! IMPOSSIBLE!"

Yet beneath it, I saw fear—fear that he might lose me to the same fire that had marked me as more than an omega. The chamber groaned again as if responding to our turmoil, shadows stretching long and twisted across the floor. The shard’s glow pulsed harder, and I realized it was reacting to something—or someone—nearby. My chest tightened as another voice, smooth and cold, drifted down the staircase, each word laced with venom. “How touching. The rejected omega embraces her ruin at last.”

Before he could finish, I raised my fist and struck him. The room froze. His nose broke with a sickening crack; dark blood spread across the white tile as he crumpled, rolling on the floor. “She committed suicide to make you feel guilty?” My wolf clawed to the surface, my eyes flashing. “Judging by your aura, it’s easy to tell you’re not even an Omega but a Delta, a pathetic fool that can barely earn respect for himself. Yet the Moon Goddess blessed you with a soulmate…an innocent Omega who foolishly devoted her entire life to trash like you. And now she’s dead because she couldn’t let you go.”

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."

she said almost breathlessly. “You make excuses,” the wolf said. Her eyes now have specs of silver in them. “I fought! I did! You saw it. I'll never let him break me!” Freya vowed. The wolf approached, paws silent against the ground, every movement elegant and powerful. “You fought with fear. Not fire. You forgot who you are.” “I’m no one,” Freya whispered, hugging her arms around herself. “Just an omega. A broken one. Marked. Owned. Shattered.”

Dropping the knife to the ground, I reach out and catch her by the wrist. My vision goes dark for a second as I am transported to another place. Memories that don’t belong to me flash through my mind. It is like I am watching from the outside. This Omega wasn’t always disfigured. She actually used to be lovely, but only on the outside. I am watching as the Omega grabs Liz by her hair and begins to assault her. I watch in horror as Liz is repeatedly hit and scratched by this Omega. Finally, Liz crumples to the ground, and the Omega kicks her in the ribs.

It must be killing her to know that everything she's heard came from someone she's supposed to love unconditionally. "I don't know if this changes things, Mars. I probably shouldn't be the one telling you this, but they never made it out of the house. Micca's wolf is-" How do I explain this to her in a way that she can understand? "His wolf is an omega. Omegas are the weakest of us, but they're the most vicious when they align themselves with the right alpha. Add the Warhead and he becomes a machine. Nearly unstoppable. His instincts are wired to feed what he needs.