The Omega’s Torment: A Quadruple Bond Novels & Stories

Ryan gritted his teeth in anger. “Because I'm an Omega Ryan,I am weak who in this world will want to associate with someone that is of no use.”

Lyra’s pulse hammered. “He will come for her.” Every eye snapped to Lyra. She held her ground, chin lifted, refusing to look away. “The bond between us is real,” Tyler said plainly. “It exists whether I acknowledge it or not.” Gasps and murmurs spread instantly. “I will not reject it,” he continued. “And I will not sever it.” Lyra’s breath caught. “This omega,” Tyler said, placing a hand at the small of her back, “stands under my protection.”

I'm an Omega. "But I'm an Omega"

I watched them disappear around the corner, their laughter still jeering in my ears. Why do I have to endure this torment every time something happens between them? I never asked to be his mate. I never wanted this cursed bond. I was still coming to terms with being an Omega in a strange pack, and now I was being tormented by the deranged Alpha who thought he was too good for me. Technically, he was. But it still hurt.

His senses stretched, sharpened, and tightened like a wire pulled taut. And then he saw her. Olivia. She wasn’t doing anything. Just being her usual shy self, clutching her bag so tight it was one wrong breath away from collapsing. But she carried a quiet gravity, a fragile sort of radiance that didn’t demand attention… yet stole it anyway. His wolf froze mid-step. “Mine.” The word slammed through him, instinctive, undeniable, older than the bloodlines that crowned him Alpha. But before he could move toward her, something else entered the frame. A shadow brushing her space where it had no right to be.

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.

The posture she used when she was forcing herself not to react. "Alpha-omega bonds," Harlan continued, "are classified as taboo under current pack law, due to the dominance imbalance and the risk of the omega's identity being subsumed. They are, however—" he clicked again, "—the only bond type that triggers full resonance. Complete synchronization of instinct, scent, and wolf response. Essentially irreversible once acknowledged." I looked at Val. She was looking at the desk in front of her. Her hands were flat on the surface, very still.

The omega’s labored breaths filled the room, mingling with the muttered curses that escaped his lips between each wave of pain. The walls seemed to close in, amplifying the echoes of his distress. The omega’s eyes, clouded with pain and frustration, shot daggers at the alpha pacing anxiously nearby. At that moment, the bond that connected them felt more like a chain, each pang of pain only strengthening the resentment that simmered beneath the surface.

Robina replied. "How did you come by this information?" I questioned. "I overheard Beta Nathan talking with Omega Alexia," she answered. She hesitated, then added, "Can I give you some advice? Please keep it to yourself." I gripped my mug tighter. "Promise me." "I promise I won't tell anyone," I assured her. "Omega Alexia and Alpha Ryker were in a relationship. They broke up recently. I don't know why. But everyone in the pack loved them together," Robina whispered. Before I could ask further, a stunning woman entered the room.

"I need the bond to survive the tribunal." "Wanting the bond and surrendering the power are two entirely different concepts," Mara corrected, cutting a piece of medical tape. "You are holding onto the energy because it is the first time in your life you have not been powerless. You spent your entire existence as a disposable omega. Now you possess a weapon, and your instincts refuse to relinquish control of it." I took off my ruined shirt, allowing Mara to clean the reopened bullet wounds on my side. She applied the antiseptic quickly, securing the fresh gauze with the medical tape.