The Rejected Omega

Episode 5 He Alphas Visit

The following morning came too soon.

Lyra woke to the sound of her rooster crowing, dragging herself out of bed with heavy eyes. She had hardly slept, her mind refusing to stop replaying yesterday’s events. The courtyard. The stares. Alaric’s words that still burned in her chest.

“You are mine, Lyra.”

She shook her head firmly as she lit the small fire in her cottage hearth. “No,” she muttered to herself. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Her cottage was simple: one bed, a wooden table, shelves lined with herbs, jars, and small books she had collected over the years. A healer’s home, nothing more. And she liked it that way, quiet, private, far from the pack’s constant judging eyes.

She thought today would be peaceful. She was wrong.

By midmorning, a knock sounded at her door. Not the hesitant tap of a villager asking for medicine. This knock was strong. Commanding. The kind of knock that demanded to be answered.

Lyra’s stomach dropped. She already knew who it was.

When she opened the door, her suspicion was confirmed.

Alaric Sterling stood there, tall and imposing, dressed now in dark trousers and a black tunic that fit his broad shoulders. His golden eyes locked on hers, steady and unyielding.

“Morning, healer,” he said smoothly, as if they were already old friends.

Lyra crossed her arms. “You shouldn’t be walking this far. You’re still healing.”

“I heal fast,” he replied. “You should know that by now.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want?”

Instead of answering, Alaric stepped forward, right past her. Lyra stiffened as his presence filled her small cottage. He moved slowly, taking in every detail. The shelves. The herbs. The books stacked neatly. The single bed pushed against the wall.

“So this is where you hide,” he said at last, his voice low, almost thoughtful.

“It’s not hiding,” she snapped. “It’s living. Quietly. Away from trouble.”

Alaric turned, his golden gaze pinning her in place. “Trouble always finds you, Lyra. Especially when you try to run from it.”

She hated the way he said her name, like it belonged to him already.

“Why are you here?” she demanded again, her tone sharper.

Alaric’s expression softened just slightly, though his voice remained steady. “Because I wanted to see you. Not in the infirmary. Not in front of the pack. Here. Where you are yourself.”

Lyra’s breath caught. No one had ever wanted that before. Not her rank. Not her wolf. Not her body. Just… her.

But she quickly pushed the thought away. “Well, you’ve seen it. Now leave.”

Instead of leaving, Alaric walked to her shelves, picking up a jar of dried herbs. He held it up, studying the label. “What’s this one for?”

Lyra blinked. “Fever. But…”

“And this one?” He picked another.

“Poison bites,” she said quickly, irritated.

Alaric set the jar back down carefully and turned toward her again. “You’ve built something here. Something useful. Something strong. You deserve more respect than they give you.”

His words hit deeper than she expected. She had spent years working for acknowledgment, and yet it was the Alpha King, someone she barely knew, who spoke it out loud.

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to stay cold. “Respect doesn’t matter. Peace does. And I won’t find it if you keep drawing attention to me.”

Alaric stepped closer, closing the space between them. She could feel his heat, his presence pressing against her like a wave.

“You won’t find peace by denying who you are,” he murmured.

Lyra’s heart pounded. She took a step back, her back brushing against the wooden table. “I know who I am,” she said fiercely. “I’m the pack’s doctor. That’s it. Nothing more.”

Alaric leaned in slightly, his golden eyes searching hers as if peeling back her walls. “You’re mine,” he whispered.

Her breath caught painfully. For a moment, she swore her wolf howled in agreement. But she clenched her fists, forcing her voice steady.

“No. I will never let anyone claim me again.”

The silence between them grew heavy. For the first time, Alaric’s expression darkened, not with anger, but with something far more dangerous, patience.

“We’ll see,” he said quietly, echoing his words from the day before.

The rest of the day was no better.

Word spread quickly through the pack that the Alpha King had visited **Lyra’s cottage. Everywhere she went, fetching water, gathering herbs, she felt the stares. The whispers were louder now.

“She must have bewitched him.”

“No Omega could draw the Alpha King unless she used tricks.”

“He’ll get bored soon.”

“She’ll ruin us if she tries to climb higher.”

Lyra kept her head down, ignoring them as best she could, though every word felt like a thorn in her skin.

By evening, she returned home, weary and frustrated, only to find something that made her heart lurch.

On her table sat a basket. Fresh bread. Fruit. A bottle of wine. She hadn’t left it there.

She looked around sharply, but no one was outside. She stepped closer, lifting a folded note tucked inside.

The handwriting was sharp, strong.

Eat. You’re too thin.

Lyra’s heart squeezed, and she almost slammed the note back down. How dare he? How dare he enter her life so boldly, ignoring every boundary she set?

And yet… her stomach growled at the sight of the food. She hadn’t eaten properly all day.

With trembling hands, she tore off a piece of bread and ate it, hating herself for every bite.

That night, as she lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, her thoughts refused to settle.

Alaric was unlike anyone she had ever known. Strong, yes. Dangerous, yes. But he also saw her in a way no one else ever had. And that scared her more than anything.

Because part of her wolf didn’t just want him. It needed him.

And if she gave in, she knew it would destroy her.

So Lyra closed her eyes and whispered the promise she had made to herself long ago.

“I won’t break. Not again.”

But deep inside, her wolf howled restlessly into the night, aching for the Al

pha King who refused to leave her alone.