Bound to the Alpha Twins

My World

It came the way it always did.

Without warning, without permission.

Two figures stood at the edge of a forest I did not recognise, their backs to me, their faces hidden from my view.

The trees surrounding them were tall and ancient. Mist curled around adding to the night's eeriness. I could not see who they were. I could not hear what they were saying. But I felt them, deep in the bones, undeniably.

My feet shuffled slowly toward them, as though possessed.

The ground beneath my feet shifted. The mist thickened and somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, a long, mournful and achingly familiar sound, like one I had heard before I was born.

Then came the pull. Low and insistent, thrumming from the centre of my chest, like a thread being drawn taut.

One of the figures began to turn, and just as I caught the edge of his face, the vision dissolved.

I opened my eyes to the familiar water stain on my ceiling and lay there a moment, heart thudding against my ribs for reasons I could not explain.

Then I sat up, pushed it to the back of my mind the way you push a stubborn drawer shut, and got on with my morning.

This was the thing about these visions. I had had them as long as I could remember, scattered and strange. Arriving and going as they pleased and in their wake, they left an unease I'd learnt to ignore.

They never made sense. They never came with instructions.

So I never bothered attaching a meaning to them.

I stood from my bed and looked out the window at Ashen Ridge, home to omegas. Home to me.

In the fourteen years I had lived in Silver Fang, it had always been the same. I noticed it less as a child, but as the years passed the 'rankism' became far more glaring. To make it much worse, I was not truly one of them. I was an immigrant, and in Silver Fang, that was its own kind of rank.

My life isn't hell, nor is it perfect. I've learnt how to cope, to keep to myself, hover in the background, and stay out of trouble.

As an Omega, and worse, an immigrant, you'll either learn that the easy way or the hard way. Flexibility is key in Silver Fang, lest you break under the pack's rigidity.

"Hey," a voice called from behind me, and I couldn't help but smile.

I turned toward the door, already knowing who it was.

A dirty-blonde in a black jumpsuit stood in the doorway, grinning at me, all her teeth on display. Perfectly white teeth. Pilar, as always, unfiltered and impossible to ignore.

"I know you got them whitened," I said, stifling a laugh at her mock-offended expression, "so you can close up now."

"f**k you," she shot back, two middle fingers up in the air. Classic Pilar.

"Did I just hear a curse word, girls?" Mom shouted from downstairs.

Pilar's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "No! Serene! You didn't," she hurried to slam the door, clearly panicking.

"Why'd it take you forever to get here?" I asked, eyeing the plastic bag slung over her left shoulder.

"It's a long story." She pushed past me, dragging out the suspense like she always did. The bag rustled loudly in her hand as she walked further into my room.

"What's that?" I gestured toward the bag.

"Well," she said slowly, "I have news."

Her tone alone made my stomach sink.

"Pilar," I said through my teeth, "what did you do?"

"Why assume I did something?"

I gave her a look. "Just tell me, will you?"

She lifted the bag slightly and grimaced. "Your dress."

My eyes narrowed. "What about my dress?"

"It might have had a small accident."

My heart dropped.

"What do you mean an accident?" I snatched the bag from her hands before she could answer and pulled out the familiar pale-blue fabric I had spent the entire week fixing and adjusting, only to see a huge chunk of it missing.

A large blackened burn mark spread across the side. I stared at it in disbelief.

"You burned my dress?" I said, for some reason not really angry.

Pilar raised both hands defensively. "It wasn't on purpose!"

"Well, I guess the Moon Goddess doesn't want me going to the ball then," I muttered, disappointed, though inside I felt the opposite.

I groaned and dropped onto the edge of my bed.

"Well that solves that," I said after a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't go to the ball now," I replied, trying very hard not to sound relieved. "Problem solved."

For a moment, Pilar just stared at me. Then she sighed dramatically.

"Oh please."

"What?"

"You really thought I would ruin your dress and leave it at that?"

Her hand disappeared into the plastic bag again and she pulled something else out.

The room suddenly filled with the deep shimmer of red.

I blinked.

The dress she held up caught the light from my window, the fabric glittering faintly as if dusted with tiny sparks of fire. It was nothing like the modest blue dress I had planned to wear.

It was bold.

The neckline dipped far lower than anything I'd ever worn before, and the fabric hugged every curve as it fell in sleek, flowing lines.

My mouth slowly opened. "Pilar."

She grinned proudly. "Surprise."

It was beautiful. Terrifyingly so.

"I can't wear that," I said quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because I will look ridiculous!"

"You'll look amazing," she corrected.

"No. I'll look like I'm trying too hard."

"You will look like someone who deserves to be noticed for once."

I hesitated. That last part landed somewhere deep in my chest.

"Pilar," I started again, but she was already pushing the dress into my arms.

"Nope," she said firmly. "You're wearing it."

"I don't even know where you got this."

"That," she replied smugly, "is not important."

I glanced down at the fabric again, running my fingers across it. It was soft. Expensive. Definitely far beyond anything I could ever afford.

"You're unbelievable," I muttered.

"Yet here I am, improving your fashion life."

Before I could protest again, she practically shoved me toward the mirror. "Go. Change."

A few minutes later, I stepped out of the small corner of the room I used to dress.

Pilar turned and immediately let out a long whistle.

"See?" she said. "What did I tell you?"

I glanced nervously at my reflection. The girl staring back at me barely looked like the quiet omega who usually blended into the background.

The red dress clung just enough to highlight my shape, the shimmering fabric catching the light whenever I moved.

I felt different. Unfamiliar. Like I was in a body that wasn't mine.

"Are you sure this isn't too much?" I asked.

Pilar walked over and adjusted the strap slightly on my shoulder.

"Ophelia," she said softly, meeting my eyes in the mirror, "you spend your entire life trying not to be seen."

Her voice grew firmer. "Tonight, just once, let them look."

Something about the way she said it made it impossible to argue. So instead, I took a breath.

"Fine."

Her grin returned instantly. "That's my girl."

Pilar dressed up in a sultry white dress her aunt got for her. We did our makeup and hair and headed downstairs together almost two hours later.

Mother was waiting near the door. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw me.

"Oh," she murmured.

For a second, I panicked. "Too much?"

But instead she smiled gently. "You look beautiful, my love."

She stepped closer, placing a hand briefly against my cheek. "The Moon Goddess watches over all her children," she said softly. "But tonight, may she watch over you especially."

I nodded, unsure what to say.

The night wrapped around me like a soft cloak as we stepped outside. In the distance, the Silver Fang territory glowed faintly with lantern light, music drifting through the trees like a beckoning hand.

The Annual Moonlight Ball. My first.

Pilar bumped my shoulder lightly as we started walking.

"Nervous?" she asked.

"Very."

She grinned widely. "Good."

I groaned. "That's not comforting."

I didn't know it then, but the two figures from my vision were going to turn my life upside down.