Run, Little Omega
551 Words
Evangeline
By dawn, my feet are raw and bleeding. I push deeper into the pines, away from Bloodhaven's iron gates and the wolves who spat my name like dirt.
Each breath tastes of frost and fear. Each heartbeat drums one truth, I am alone. But alone is better than kneeling.
Keep moving, Ember growls inside me. Don't look back.
I stumble down an old deer path, one my mother once showed me before she vanished into the winter night when I was ten. She whispered secrets then, secrets I thought were fairy tales.
You have my blood, she told me, brushing my hair back from my forehead. One day, the Goddess will remember.
I never believed her. Omegas do not carry secrets. They carry mops and bruises.
When the sun breaks through the branches, I collapse beside an old stone circle hidden in the snow. Five stones, each the height of a man. My mother called them the Moon's Teeth. She said they were older than any Alpha.
I press my palm to the cold granite. “I don’t know what you wanted from me,” I whisper to her ghost. “But I can't go back.”
The wind shifts. The clearing fills with the hush of whispers. Ember stirs, ears pinned back.
It's here, she murmurs. It's waking.
Something deep inside me, coiled like a snake all my life, uncoils. The mark at the base of my neck, the faint birthmark the elders mocked as a dirt smudge, burns cold, then hot.
I gasp as the air vibrates around the stones. Frost flowers bloom where my blood drips on the roots.
An old memory: my mother's voice, soft but sharp. You are my last gift to the Goddess. When the bond breaks, you will remember.
The bond. Aiden's rejection. My own words — I reject you too.
That was the key. The bond that trapped me as an Omega is gone. What's left is older. Wilder.
A branch snaps. Two rogues appear at the edge of the circle. Scarred fur, foam at their jaws.
I should feel fear. Instead I feel Ember, rising. Not as my shadow, but as my other half — fully awake.
The rogues circle closer, eyes hungry. One shifts, a man with rotting teeth and yellow eyes.
“Little runaway,” he sneers. “Pretty wolf alone at the edge of the world.”
My voice is steady. “Not alone.”
I feel it now, the power humming under my skin. My mother's legacy, older than pack ranks. White Wolf blood, hidden for generations, sealed by fear.
The first rogue lunges. I do not shift all at once — I become. My bones split, reform. My fur is pale silver, bright against the snow. My claws gleam like moonlight.
When I strike, Ember roars with me. The rogue gurgles as my jaws close on his throat. His blood steams in the snow. The other flees.
I stand in the circle, breath misting. The Moon’s Teeth glow faintly at my paws.
I am not only an Omega. I am the heir of something the Alphas thought they wiped out long ago.
Somewhere in Bloodhaven, Aiden Thorn wakes in his warm bed, smug in his power. He has no idea what he set free.
- Writer
