Rise of the Omega

Chapter 3: The Alpha's Claim

The dining hall glittered with torchlight, shadows dancing across the high beams. The scent of roasted boar and spiced wine curled through the air, thick enough to make my stomach twist. Feast nights were always loud, the kind of chaos where alphas bellowed toasts and warriors slapped each other on the back hard enough to bruise.

Omegas, of course, were expected to dart around refilling cups, carrying platters, keeping everything flowing like unseen threads. I balanced a jug of mead against my hip, moving between benches, ignoring the elbows that jostled me and the hands that grabbed without thanks.

“Careful with that, Ardena,” Tarin called from across the hall, carrying his own tray stacked with bread. “Last time you poured too fast, you nearly drowned a warrior.”

“I was aiming,” I shot back under my breath.

He grinned, catching only my lips moving, and winked. I shook my head, hiding a smile. Humour was the only armour we had, flimsy as it was.

The high table stretched across the raised dais at the far end, where Leron sat flanked by his Beta and a cluster of trusted warriors. I felt the weight of his presence even before his gaze found me. It always did.

“Omega,” his voice carried over the din.

The room stilled, if only for a heartbeat. Dozens of eyes flicked toward me as the jug grew heavier in my hands. I swallowed hard and made my way to the dais. Each step felt like wading through water, my heartbeat thudding in my ears.

When I reached him, Leron held out his goblet. His eyes gleamed dark in the torchlight, unreadable.

“Fill it,” he commanded.

I tilted the jug, mead splashing into the cup. The sweet scent of honey rose up, thick and cloying. His hand brushed mine when I set the goblet back down. The touch lingered too long, deliberate. My pulse stuttered.

“You serve well,” he said, his voice pitched low enough that those nearest would hear. “Perhaps better than you know.”

A murmur rippled through the table. Heat scorched my cheeks, and I ducked my head, retreating quickly down the steps. My fingers tightened on the jug, knuckles white.

At the omega’s table in the far corner, Seris’s eyes were wide when I sank down beside her.

“What was that?” she hissed.

“Humiliation,” I muttered.

“It didn’t sound like humiliation.”

“It didn’t feel like respect, either,” I snapped, then bit back the edge in my tone. Seris wasn’t the enemy. None of the omegas were. But Leron’s gaze, the way his words dripped with meaning I didn’t want—it crawled under my skin.

Tarin slid onto the bench across from me, his tray already half empty. “The whole hall saw that. The Alpha doesn’t waste words on omegas.”

“Then maybe he should,” I said, forcing a grin. “We’re far more entertaining than his warriors.”

Seris elbowed me sharply. “Don’t joke about this.”

“I’m not,” I said, too quickly. But inside, unease gnawed at me.

The feast dragged on, laughter and clattering plates filling the hall until my ears rang. I tried to vanish into the chaos, but my skin prickled with the constant awareness of Leron’s gaze. Whenever I glanced up, his eyes found me, as steady as the moon.

When the warriors began pounding the tables in rhythm for a song, I seized my chance to slip outside. The cold night air hit me like a plunge into icy water, sharp and clean. Stars scattered across the dark sky, and the moon hung low and swollen, pale gold tonight—not crimson, not the blood moon that haunted my birth.

I leaned against the stone wall, breathing deep, trying to steady my pulse.

“Running away?”

I jumped, spinning to find Leron standing in the shadows near the doorway. He moved silently for someone so large, his presence filling the space like a stormcloud.

“I was just getting air,” I said quickly. My breath puffed white in the chill.

He stepped closer, his eyes catching the starlight. “The hall is loud. Crowded. I prefer quiet, too.”

I didn’t believe that for a heartbeat. Leron thrived on command, on noise that bent to him. Still, I nodded, my throat dry. He took another step closer.

“Alpha—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he cut in, lowering his head until his lips almost brushed my ear. “You were born under the blood moon, Ardena. The fates marked you. You think I don’t see it? You were always meant to stand at my side. Whether you accept it now or not doesn’t matter. The bond will root itself soon enough.”

My breath caught. The blood moon again. Always whispers, always rumors. I wanted to roll my eyes, to laugh it off, but his hand was sliding now — from my wrist up along the inside of my arm, slow and deliberate. My stomach twisted.

“Stop,” I hissed under my breath.

He ignored me, his thumb grazing the hollow of my shoulder. “You crave respect. I could give you that. No more being pushed aside, no more scraps at the table. You’d be Luna, and they would bow.”

“And if I don’t want you?” The words tumbled out, raw and reckless.

His head tilted, the faintest smile at the corner of his mouth. “Then I’ll remind you until you do.”

Rage and fear tangled inside me. I tried again to pull away, but his grip was iron. His other hand lifted, brushing hair from my face, knuckles grazing my jaw like a lover’s touch, except my skin crawled with it.

“Don’t,” I said, sharper now. Louder.

Leron’s smile widened, soft and deadly. “You fight now, but you’ll thank me later. I always get what I want, Ardena.”

My chest felt too tight to breathe. My hands itched to shove him, to claw him if I had to, but every rational part of me screamed that he was Alpha, and I was only an omega. One wrong move and he’d crush me, maybe not with fists, but with power, with the weight of the pack behind him.

Still, something flickered inside me, hot and defiant, just for a second. A thought that wasn’t safe, wasn’t smart. That maybe I’d rather burn than bend.

I held his gaze, refusing to drop my eyes in submission. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced my chin up. “You don’t own me.”

For a moment, his grip faltered. His eyes narrowed, and the storm I’d been waiting for finally cracked. He released my arm with a sharp jerk, leaving my skin stinging.

The silence between us was thick enough to choke on. He straightened, face smoothing into something unreadable, then leaned just enough to whisper one last promise:

“I will.”

He turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the cold, my arm throbbing where his fingers had been.

Seris came through the doors, saw my expression and darted forward, her hand gripping mine tight. “Ardie…”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, though my voice shook. My skin felt dirty where he had touched me, but I lifted my chin, pretending I was steady.

Inside, though, I was trembling. Because I knew one thing now with terrible certainty.

Leron Tregor wasn’t going to stop.