Alpha's Luna

They whisper when they think I can’t hear. “Pretty, but wasted on her.” “An Omega like that should’ve been drowned at birth.” “She’ll fetch a price, at least. If the Alpha Council still deals in damaged goods.” The words cut sharper than claws, but I’ve learned not to flinch. Omegas aren’t supposed to react. We’re meant to lower our eyes, bow our heads, accept our place as quiet shadows in a world built for Alphas and Betas. I keep my chin high anyway. It earns me more bruises. At training drills, the Betas shove me into the mud, laughing when I don’t fight back. At full moon gatherings, the Alphas ignore me completely—except to sniff like I’m some commodity in the market. And when I walk through the village, the elders look at me with that same expression they’ve worn since I was born: disappointment. Because Omegas are supposed to be pliant. Gentle. Sweet. And I… am none of those things. I bite my tongue until it bleeds when authority barks at me. I dream of running, of howling, of sinking my teeth into the throat of anyone who calls me weak. And I protect the only thing in this cursed pack worth bleeding for—my little brother. Finn’s only twelve, small for his age, all knobby knees and too-bright eyes. He clings to me like I’m the only safe place he knows, and maybe he’s right. He doesn’t remember the day the Council stripped our bloodline of honor, but I do. He doesn’t remember the look in Father’s eyes before he walked into exile, but I do. Finn is all I have left, and I will burn every tradition this pack worships before I let them break him the way they’ve tried to break me. Tonight, after another long day of drills meant to remind me of my uselessness, I find him sitting by the river, skipping stones. He looks up when I approach, worry shadowing his boyish face. “Selene,” he whispers, “did they hurt you again?” I kneel beside him, brushing mud from my arms like it doesn’t matter. “No worse than usual.” “You shouldn’t let them.” His fists clench. “One day I’ll be strong enough to fight for you.” I cup his face, force him to meet my eyes. “No. You’ll be strong enough to fight for yourself. For your future. Promise me, Dorian.” His lips press into a thin line, but he nods. I kiss his forehead, tasting the salt of river mist and childhood innocence. I don’t tell him what I know—that one day, the Council will come for me. That they’ll sell me like cattle to some Alpha I’ve never met. That they’ll strip me from him the same way they stripped everything else. But I make a vow to the moon that night, as Dorian leans against my shoulder and the current carries our skipped stones downstream: I will not go quietly. If fate tries to chain me, I will bare my teeth. If they try to take him, I will draw blood. And if they make me a bride… I will make myself a queen.