The morning sun barely pierced the dense canopy of the Ironfang pack territory. Zara pressed her palms to the cold stone floor of the Omega dormitory, scrubbing furrows of mud and grime from the previous night’s punishment. Every motion burned with exhaustion, but she dared not linger. One misstep, one whispered complaint, and the warriors—or worse, Beta Varron—would notice.
“Faster, Omega!” a voice barked from the shadows. A warrior leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, smirking. “If you’re too slow, maybe I’ll finish it for you.”
Zara’s jaw clenched. Her hands moved mechanically, washing the floor with the precision that had kept her alive for twenty-one years. No one looked at Omegas as people here. They were property, tools, reminders of rank and weakness. The Ironfang pack prided itself on hierarchy, and she occupied the lowest rung.
Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, quiet but insistent. We are more than they know.
She pressed a hand to her chest, willing herself to ignore the whispers of her own power. It wasn’t yet awake, not fully, but the bond—whatever strange force tethered her to someone she had never met—had begun to thrum faintly in the back of her mind.
The door slammed open, and a gust of cold wind carried the scent of Alpha Magnus into the room. Zara froze. Even in human form, his presence was impossible to ignore: tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes like molten gold that seemed to see through flesh into the core of her soul.
Magnus’s wolf prowled invisibly beneath his skin, coiling with power, tension, and predatory awareness. He walked past her without a word, but the air shifted as if the forest itself leaned in. Zara felt the bond stir sharply—so strong it made her knees weak.
She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to ground herself. Focus. Don’t look at him. Don’t breathe too loud.
But the moment lingered. Her pulse echoed in her ears. His scent—iron, wolf musk, dominance—filled her senses. And beneath it all, the bond whispered: You are mine. You will be mine.
Zara’s wolf whimpered inside her, anxious, confused, and yearning. She clenched her teeth, muttering a silent prayer: Not now. Not yet. I am nothing to you.
The warrior who had mocked her earlier laughed quietly. “I don’t know why you even bother,” he said, eyes flicking to Magnus with obvious fear. “Alpha doesn’t care about Omegas… except when they’re… interesting.”
Zara’s eyes narrowed. Interesting? Her hands tightened around the scrubbing brush. The implication was clear. Omegas were property, yes—but if the Alpha noticed her, if he deemed her interesting… that could mean danger. Or opportunity.
The morning dragged on. Every detail of the dormitory polished, every fault erased. Zara’s hands ached. Her back screamed in protest, yet she did not stop. She could not. Survival depended on obedience. And yet… the bond whispered, relentless and unignorable.
Later, she was sent to fetch water from the icy stream near the edge of the territory. The forest was quiet, almost unnaturally so, the only sound the rush of water and the soft padding of her own boots on the earth.
A figure stepped out from between the trees. Kane. Rogue, former Omega, freedom incarnate. His presence was different from Magnus’s: easy, confident, magnetic in a way that made her wolf growl softly, curious.
“You don’t belong down there,” he said, voice low but carrying across the quiet. “I’ve been watching. You’re stronger than you know.”
Zara froze, heart hammering. “Who are you?” she demanded. “Stay back.”
He smiled faintly, a dangerous, teasing curve of his lips. “I’m the one who can help you. If you’re ready to stop being… nothing.”
The bond flared violently at his words, sending shivers down her spine. But it wasn’t the bond—it was a different energy, older, wilder. Her wolf stirred, coiling with excitement and wariness. Power. Danger. Freedom.
“I… I don’t know if I—” she began, but he stepped closer, brushing a hand lightly against her shoulder.
“You don’t need to know yet,” Kane said softly. “You just need to survive, and to realize what you’re capable of. That Alpha of yours… he’s not ready for what’s coming.”
Zara’s chest tightened. Magnus. The bond throbbed with heat and warning. Mine. Protect me. Claim me.
She shook her head, trying to focus. “I am nothing,” she whispered. “I am nothing.”
“You’re not,” Kane said firmly. “You’re Primordial. You don’t know it yet, but your bloodline—your wolf—was never meant to kneel. Not to them. Not to anyone.”
Zara felt a spark deep in her chest. Something ancient, raw, and untamed. Her wolf stirred violently, pressing against the bond, stretching, yearning for the freedom Kane hinted at.
But the danger was real. Omega life was fragile, and her first step toward rebellion could cost her everything. And yet… something inside her had awakened. Something that refused to bow, that refused to stay unseen.
The sun dipped behind the forest canopy, shadows stretching like claws across the ground. Zara’s eyes hardened. Tomorrow, she would be ready. Tomorrow, she would take the first step—not as a timid Omega, not as a slave to the pack’s cruel hierarchy—but as something more.
Her wolf growled softly inside her, impatient, urging, alive. Tomorrow, we begin. We rise. We claim.
And somewhere, far away, Magnus felt a tug in his chest, sharp and unwelcome. The bond flared violently, burning with heat and warning. The Omega he had rejected… the one he thought weak, insignificant… was awakening.
For the first time, fear touched his golden eyes.
