Caught between two worlds
1070 Words
Elara broke through the last line of trees, breath ragged, lungs burning from fear more than exhaustion. The pack’s border stones glowed faintly in the dusk—an eerie, unwelcome reminder of where she belonged.
She slowed her pace, forcing her trembling legs to steady. She needed to look normal. Composed. Uninteresting. Omegas were supposed to be invisible unless someone needed something to hit.
But her heart… her heart hadn’t slowed since Simon Blackwood spoke the word mate.
A word forbidden to someone like her.
A word that could get her killed.
As she stepped over the boundary, voices sharpened.
“Elara!”
She froze.
Three pack warriors emerged from the shadows near the training clearing—Garron, Kane, and Vaughn—men who had spent years making her life a quiet hell. Their expressions twisted from annoyance to suspicion the moment they saw her.
“Where the hell were you?” Garron demanded, voice thick with authority he didn’t deserve.
Her pulse stuttered. “I—I was gathering herbs.”
Kane snorted. “Herbs? This far out? Do you take us for idiots?”
Elara forced herself not to shrink back. “I didn’t mean to go too deep.”
“You lie too easily,” Vaughn said, stepping forward. His hand brushed her hair aside roughly, exposing her neck as if checking for a scent. “You smell like…”
Elara’s heart nearly stopped.
Please. Not him. Not him.
Vaughn leaned closer, breathing in sharply.
“…the forest,” he finished with a grunt. “You better not have slowed us down for nothing.”
Relief crashed over her so suddenly her knees weakened. Simon had masked his scent—she didn’t know how she knew, but she knew. He had hidden himself completely.
“Get back to work,” Garron barked. “Gamma Toren is looking for you. Something about unfinished tasks.”
Her stomach dropped.
Of course Toren was looking for her. She knew exactly what that meant.
“Yes,” she whispered quickly. “I’ll go now.”
“Move,” Kane snapped, shoving her hard.
She stumbled but caught her balance just in time. She didn’t dare look back. Didn’t dare let them see the fear in her eyes. She couldn’t afford another beating—not today, not when her mind was already reeling.
Her feet carried her automatically to the pack house, though dread clawed at her insides.
Inside, the dim corridors were nearly silent. Shadows cast long and sharp across the old wooden floor, swallowing her small figure as she walked.
Then she reached the back workroom.
Gamma Toren stood with his arms crossed, posture rigid. His cold eyes snapped to her the moment she stepped inside.
“Late,” he said.
Her throat tightened. “I’m sorry—”
“Sorry doesn’t finish chores.” He stepped closer, towering over her. “I sent you for herbs an hour ago. You disappear. Why?”
“I wasn’t feeling well,” she whispered.
“Then you should have said so,” Toren growled. “You don’t wander the territory without permission. Omegas obey.”
“I know.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “Why are you shaking?”
“I’m not.” Lie. A poor one.
Toren’s nostrils flared. He stepped forward, grabbing her chin and forcing her head up so he could sniff the air around her.
Panic roared in her chest.
“What is this?” Toren’s eyes narrowed. “Your scent is… different.”
Elara’s blood ran cold.
Had Simon’s presence affected her more than she realized? Had the mate pull subtly altered her scent even without marking?
Toren growled softly. “Who were you with?”
“No one,” Elara forced out quickly. “I was alone.”
Toren’s grip tightened painfully. “Do not lie.”
“I’m not lying,” she whispered, looking anywhere but his eyes.
His wolf bristled with irritation. He inhaled again, deeper this time, nose brushing her jaw.
Her stomach twisted with fear.
Then his expression changed—just a flicker. A shadow of… confusion.
“Your scent… it’s stronger,” Toren muttered. “Almost like—”
The door creaked open.
An older omega hurried in with a tray of supplies, freezing when she saw Toren’s hand gripping Elara’s chin. Her eyes widened in silent sympathy, but she said nothing. She couldn’t.
Toren clicked his tongue and released Elara abruptly, stepping back.
“We’re not finished,” he said coldly. “Get to your duties.”
Elara bowed her head. “Yes, Gamma.”
As she walked past him, his voice followed her:
“And Elara… if I find out you were with someone outside the pack, you won’t survive the punishment.”
Her blood turned to ice.
She didn’t respond. She couldn’t.
She stepped out of the room and didn’t breathe until she reached the kitchen storage hall. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold onto the shelves.
A mate.
Simon Blackwood’s mate.
An omega from a cruel pack with nothing to offer and no freedom of her own.
She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.
“I’m dead,” she whispered to herself. “If anyone finds out… I’m dead.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it quickly, terrified someone might see.
Then—
A spark.
A flicker deep inside her chest.
Warm. Steady. Familiar.
It wasn’t her own.
It was Simon.
A whisper across the bond neither of them had spoken into existence, yet was undeniably there.
You are not alone.
Elara gasped softly, clutching her chest as warmth pulsed through her ribs, soothing the panic like a calming hand across her heart.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Simon… what are you doing?”
Again the warmth stirred, gentle and reassuring.
Protecting what’s mine.
Her breath hitched, and her eyes stung with too many emotions to contain.
But she couldn’t answer him.
She didn’t know how.
Not without risking everything.
Someone approached down the hall, and Elara straightened quickly, wiping her tears and forcing her face into the expression she always wore: blank, obedient, invisible.
She had to be careful.
Because her pack was suspicious.
Her scent was changing.
And the Alpha King had just vowed to protect her.
Which meant her world—the fragile, broken one she lived in—
was about to shatter.
- Writer
