The Rotten Omega

Blade at mark

The knock came at dawn.

Three sharp hits. Military.

“Omega Veyra. Elder Mara requests your presence. Training yard. Now.”

No “please”. No warning.

I was already dressed. Hadn’t slept anyway. The bond from Ch 12 was still there, a faint tug under my skin I didn’t know how to ignore yet.

Zevran’s “lie” bought us time. One moon cycle. But Mara didn’t buy lies. She bought proof.

*The training yard was empty except for her.*

No audience this time. Worse. Just me, her, and the mark Zevran burned into my shoulder last night. Fake. Ink and magic. Meant to fool the pack for 30 days.

Mara stood with her arms crossed. No gravel voice today. Just flat. Done.

“Strip,” she said.

I didn’t move. “To what end?”

“To see if it’s real.” She stepped closer. “Old Law says an Alpha’s mark has three things: scent, heat, pain. You have two. Let’s check the third.”

My mouth went dry. The fake mark had scent. Zevran’s cedar and ice. It had heat when he was close.

Pain was the problem. Real marks tore skin. This one was drawn on.

“Zevran ordered—”

“Zevran isn’t here,” Mara cut in. “And I don’t answer to an Alpha who hides behind his Omega.”

She pulled a blade. Small. Clean. The kind used for ritual cuts.

My knees locked. Ch 1 Veyra survived alone by running. I couldn’t run now.

“One cut,” Mara said. “If the mark bleeds black and seals, it’s real. If it bleeds red and opens… then you lied to the pack. To me. To him.”

Execution was back on the table.

I calculated fast. Flinch = guilt. No flinch = maybe she believes it.

“Do it,” I said. Voice flat.

I turned my shoulder to her. Felt the cold air hit skin. Felt the blade hover.

Then footsteps. Heavy. Controlled.

“Step back from my Omega,” Zevran said.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be at council. That was the plan. Let Mara test, let me pass, let the lie hold.

He walked in anyway. Stopped at my back. Didn’t touch me.

But his scent flooded the yard. Ice and cedar and something darker. Warning.

Mara didn’t lower the blade. “You’re interfering, Alpha.”

“I’m enforcing,” he said. “The mark was given in private. You test it in public, you insult me.”

“The pack deserves truth,” Mara said.

“The pack deserves a living Alpha,” he said. Low. Deadly. “And you don’t cut what’s mine without me there.”

Mine. The word hit harder than the blade would have.

Mara’s eyes flicked from him to me. To the mark. She knew. I saw it. She knew it was too clean, too perfect, too new.

But she also saw him stand between us. Choosing.

She sheathed the blade. Slow.

“One moon cycle,” she said. “Then the mark proves itself. Or the Old Law does.”

She left without looking back.

Silence.

I exhaled. Hands were shaking now. Adrenaline crash. I hated that he saw it.

Zevran didn’t say “you’re safe”. Didn’t touch me.

He just stood there, back to me, like he had in Ch 12. Quiet mercy. Cold Alpha.

“Shirt down,” he said finally. “Before someone else comes.”

I pulled the fabric up. The fake mark stung where the air hit it.

“You shouldn’t have come,” I said. “Plan was—”

“Plans break,” he said. “When Mara holds a blade to your throat.”

He turned then. Eyes on the mark, not me. Jaw tight.

“You did good,” he said. Two words. Then: “It makes this lie harder.”

Because now he’d interfered. Now the pack would talk more.

And now I knew he’d choose me over protocol. Even when it cost him.

I wanted to say thanks. Ch 1 Veyra didn’t do thanks.

So I said, “You’re late.”

His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.

“Don’t make me come save you again, Veyra,” he said. “I might start liking it.”

Then he walked out. Leaving me with a fake mark, real danger, and 29 days left.

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