Rise of the Omega

Chapter 2: Crossing Lines

The training yard smelled of sweat and churned earth, the air sharp with autumn chill. Frost still clung to the edges of the practice dummies, but that hadn’t stopped the warriors from stripping down to sleeveless shirts to show off their muscles. Wolves never missed a chance to posture.

I lingered at the edge of the field with Seris, clutching the basket of water skins we’d been ordered to hand out. The Beta barked instructions, his voice carrying over the clash of wooden staves.

“Why are we here again?” I muttered, shifting the basket from one arm to the other.

“Because omegas make excellent pack mules,” Seris replied. Her tone was flat, but her mouth quirked in amusement.

A warrior jogged past and snatched a water skin from my basket without even looking at me. My fingers stung where his calloused hand grazed mine, not from pain but from the casualness of it. Like I was part of the scenery, no more notable than the grass under his boots.

“I should start charging,” I whispered. “One silver for a sip, two for a refill.”

Seris elbowed me. “And end up in the stocks by sundown.”

I bit back a grin. Probably true. Still, the fantasy of warriors scrambling for coins to pay me gave me a tiny spark of satisfaction.

The sound of heavy footsteps drew my attention, and I stiffened as Alpha Leron entered the yard. The air shifted as though it bent around him, every warrior straightening, staves lowering in a salute. Even the Beta’s voice faltered before he regained command.

Leron’s gaze swept the yard, sharp and assessing, before landing squarely on me. My stomach knotted. He walked with the easy stride of someone who expected the ground to move for him, his cloak swaying against his boots.

“Omega,” he said, stopping before me.

I bowed my head, clutching the basket tighter. “Alpha.”

“Come,” he ordered, turning toward the center of the yard.

My throat went dry. Seris shot me a look that was equal parts sympathy and warning. I followed, every step heavier than the last. The warriors watched, curiosity sparking in their eyes. An omega called into the yard wasn’t common.

When we reached the circle of packed earth where sparring matches were held, Leron turned to face me. “Show me your stance.”

My heart skipped. “My—my stance?”

“You are wolf,” he said, voice hard. “Every wolf should know how to stand, how to defend.”

A ripple of amusement moved through the onlookers. My palms went clammy. Omegas weren’t trained for combat. We carried water, mended clothes, scrubbed floors. We stayed out of the way.

“I’m not—” I began.

“You are pack,” he cut me off. His gaze pinned me like a nail through wood. “Stand.”

My pulse thundered in my ears. Refusing an alpha wasn’t an option. I set the basket aside and stepped onto the packed dirt, my feet feeling far too small against the space. I raised my fists awkwardly, imitating what I’d seen warriors do. My elbows jutted out like chicken wings, and I knew I looked ridiculous.

Snickers broke out around us. Heat burned my cheeks.

Leron circled me slowly, his eyes narrowing, his presence pressing against my skin like a storm. “Too loose,” he said. “You leave yourself open.” He stepped closer, adjusting my arms with firm hands, angling my feet. His grip was strong, but not cruel. Still, every touch made my nerves jolt.

“Better,” he said at last. Then his voice lowered, just for me. “Strength is not only for alphas.”

I swallowed hard. What was this? A lesson? A humiliation? Or something else I couldn’t name?

“Enough,” the Beta called, perhaps sensing the unease rippling through the crowd.

Leron’s gaze lingered on me a moment longer before he stepped back. “Remember this,” he said, then turned and strode away as though the whole thing had been nothing.

The warriors murmured, eyes following me as I picked up the basket again, my hands trembling. Seris hurried to my side, her voice low. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered. My face still burned. “But I didn’t like it.”

Later, when the yard had emptied and the sky stretched pale blue above us, I sat on the edge of the training circle, dragging a stick through the dirt. Shapes and lines appeared, spirals, stars, nonsense, and I scowled at them.

Why me? Why pull me into the circle? It wasn’t respect. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that. But it wasn’t scorn, either. There was something in his gaze I couldn’t decipher, something that felt heavier than I wanted.

Seris plopped down beside me, chewing on a blade of grass. “Maybe he likes you,” she said around the stem.

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “That’s worse than humiliation.”

“Could be useful.”

“I don’t want useful,” I snapped, then sighed. “I want normal. To be invisible. To not have every eye on me when I trip over my own tongue.”

“You’re not invisible, Ardena,” she said softly. “You never were.”

Her words lingered as we walked back to the omega quarters, echoing louder than I liked. I tried to shake them off, but in the quiet of my room that night, they came back, weaving into the whispers I’d heard all my life.

Born under the blood moon. Destined for something.

Nonsense. Just nonsense. I pulled the blanket over my head and told myself I believed it.