The Dragon Omega

CHAPTER 1 
THE OMEGA NOBODY WANTED The c***k of thunder shook the mountains. Rain hammered against the roofs of Silver Crescent Pack while the wind howled through the forest like a grieving spirit. Most wolves were gathered in their homes, warm and protected from the storm. Not Lyra Ashmoon. Barefoot and soaked to the skin, she knelt in the mud outside the Alpha Manor, scrubbing the stone pathway with swollen hands. The icy rain stung her face. A shiver tore through her body. Still, she continued working. Because stopping meant punishment. And punishment was always worse. "Move faster, Omega." The sharp voice cut through the storm. Lyra lowered her eyes. Vanessa Blackwood, the Alpha's daughter, stood beneath a large umbrella. Her silver cloak was spotless. Her boots never touched the mud. Perfect. Untouchable. Everything Lyra wasn't. "I'm trying," Lyra whispered. "What was that?" "I said I'm trying." Vanessa's lips curled. Without warning, she kicked the bucket beside Lyra. Dirty water spilled across the pathway. Hours of work vanished in seconds. Laughter erupted around them. Lyra froze. Her stomach twisted. Not again. Please, not again. "I didn't tell you to stop," Vanessa sneered. "Start over." The wolves around them laughed harder. Lyra stared at the muddy water soaking into her dress. The dress had belonged to her mother. It was the only thing she had left of her. Now it was ruined. Again. For a moment, tears burned behind her eyes. But she forced them back. Crying only amused them. So she picked up the bucket and started over. Like she always did. Like she had for eighteen years. Eighteen years of humiliation. Eighteen years of being unwanted. Eighteen years of being reminded that she was an Omega. The weakest of the weak. Most wolves shifted before their sixteenth birthday. Lyra never had. Most wolves could hear their wolf's voice. Lyra heard only silence. Some wolves whispered that she was cursed. Others claimed she was broken. The cruellest called her a mistake. After hearing it enough times... Lyra had almost begun to believe them. By the time darkness arrived, the storm had worsened. The pack houses glowed warmly in the distance. The scent of roasted meat drifted through the air. Lyra's stomach growled painfully. No one had saved her any food. No one ever did. Cold and exhausted, she made her way through the rain toward the small cabin at the edge of the territory. The forgotten cabin. Her mother's cabin. The place everyone pretended didn't exist. The door creaked open. Silence greeted her. For a moment she simply stood there. Alone. As always. Her gaze drifted to the portrait hanging above the fireplace. Silver hair. Gentle eyes. A beautiful smile. Her mother. Selena Ashmoon. The only person who had ever loved her. "I tried today, Mom." Her voice cracked. The empty cabin offered no response. It never did. But she still spoke to the portrait. Because pretending her mother could hear her hurt less than accepting the truth. Slowly, she slid onto the floor. There was no food. No firewood. No warmth. Just loneliness. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "At least they left me the rainwater." The joke wasn't funny. Yet she laughed anyway. And then the tears came. One after another. Hot. Silent. Endless. She wrapped her arms around her knees. "I don't understand." Her voice trembled. "I try to be good." Another tear slid down her cheek. "I try to help everyone." The storm raged outside. No answer came. "Why does everyone hate me?" The question echoed through the empty cabin. Then something happened. A deep rumble shook the walls. Lyra shot to her feet. The fireplace suddenly roared to life. Silver flames burst from the hearth. Not orange. Not red. Silver. The colour of moonlight. The colour of her eyes. The room trembled. A strange warmth spread through her body. No. Not warmth. Power. Ancient. Sleeping. Awakening. The flames rose higher. Twisting. Stretching. Taking shape. Huge wings formed within the fire. Dragon wings. Lyra stumbled backwards. Her heart pounded wildly. The silver flames gathered together. Then a voice emerged. Ancient. Powerful. Timeless. "Little Moon..." Lyra's breath caught. Nobody had called her that since her mother died. The flames brightened. "They made you believe you were weak." The cabin shook. "They made you believe you were nothing." Pain exploded from the crescent-shaped mark hidden beneath her hair. Lyra cried out. The voice continued. "But the blood of queens cannot remain hidden forever." Power crashed through her body. Outside, wolves across the territory suddenly began howling. One after another. Then all at once. As if something ancient had awakened. As if something forgotten had returned. The silver flames exploded. Darkness swallowed the room. Far beyond the mountains, in a kingdom hundreds of miles away, a powerful Alpha King jerked awake from sleep. His crimson eyes snapped open. For the first time in years, his wolf stirred. One word echoed through his mind. Mine. END OF CHAPTER 1 This version is formatted exactly how many Stary authors post chapters, with shorter paragraphs for mobile readers and stronger emotional pacing. End of chapter one