Born without a howl: The Omega's Legacy

Celeste

The energy in Alpha Jack’s office shifted the moment she appeared.

Celeste stood before me—not a wolf, not part of the pack hierarchy, but something else entirely.

A witch.

Not the kind from human fairy tales—not cauldrons and broomsticks—but ancient magic woven into the fabric of the pack itself, existing outside the ranks, outside the traditions that governed the rest of us.

And now, she was here.

Not from the hallway, not from the door Alpha Jack had closed behind him—Celeste had simply appeared, bypassing space as if movement was a choice rather than a necessity.

I stiffened, every instinct screaming at me that this was not normal—that the very air had bent to accommodate her presence.

Her gaze found mine, dark and sharp, holding kindness, yes—but layered beneath it was something unmistakably serious. Something that carried the weight of knowing too much, of understanding things others couldn’t.

“Katarina Torres.”

The way she said my name—measured, deliberate, almost knowing—sent a ripple down my spine.

“I’ve been waiting to meet you,” she said, her voice calm but carrying an undeniable gravity. “And first, let me start by saying—congratulations. Your victory in the warrior trials today was nothing short of remarkable.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the directness of her praise.

No hesitation, no surface-level politeness—just an honest acknowledgment of my success, something I wasn’t used to hearing from wolves outside my own circle.

“Thanks,” I replied, unsure what else to say.

She nodded, then turned slightly toward Alpha Jack, casting him a glance filled with thinly veiled amusement.

“I can see Jack wasn’t exactly upfront about why you’re here.”

My gaze flickered to Alpha Jack, catching the barest hint of irritation in his stance, like he had hoped to ease into this conversation more gently—maybe even more carefully.

Celeste, however? She didn’t do careful. She did truth.

And I respected that.

I shifted, crossing my arms. “Yeah, I noticed,” I said, allowing the faintest smirk to tug at my lips.

Celeste let out a quiet hum, then stepped closer, her gaze locking onto mine—not forceful, not overwhelming, but carrying the quiet insistence of someone who already knew what I was about to hear would change everything.

“We suspect you may not be wolfless after all,” she said plainly.

The words hit me like cold air, sharp, jarring, impossible to process immediately.

“I—” I started, then stopped, blinking as if trying to force the statement into something rational. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Celeste tilted her head slightly, studying me with keen precision, like she was already filing away the details of my reaction. “The healing—the strength—the things that shouldn’t be possible for someone truly without a wolf.”

I felt my pulse quicken, but I forced myself to remain still.

This wasn’t just speculation. This was something bigger.

Celeste sighed, folding her arms, her expression softening—not out of pity, but out of careful consideration, like she understood that whatever came next would change everything I believed about myself.

“I want answers,” she said. “And I think you do too.”

I swallowed. Because she was right.

I did.

Celeste raised a hand, unfazed, effortless, and the air in front of her rippled, bending to her will.

Then, without warning—it tore open.

A portal, smooth at the edges but infinitely deep, swirling with a darkness that somehow wasn’t empty, but full, like a passageway between places that shouldn’t connect.

I stiffened, instinctively taking half a step back. Hesitation sank into my bones.

Celeste merely turned to me with a kind smile, her sharp nod barely more than a flicker of motion, but somehow carrying the weight of certainty, trust—an invitation.

“Come,” she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like stepping through a void was as casual as walking down a hallway.

I swallowed.

And then—I followed her in.

The moment I stepped forward, the world dropped away beneath me.

Gone. No floor, no weight, no sense of direction or stability—just movement without gravity, without effort, without control.

I was floating—but falling, drifting but being pulled, my body suspended in something endless yet immediate, moving too fast and too slow all at once.

I tried to breathe, but there was no air, nothing to fill my lungs except the sensation of being dragged through space without anything to hold onto.

Then—gravity snapped back.

Like a rubber band yanked tight without warning, my feet slammed onto solid ground, my stomach twisting, nausea rising as reality stitched itself back together around me.

I stumbled, blinking hard, trying to recalibrate the world around me.

I was somewhere else.

Entirely, completely different.

Celeste, meanwhile?

She was already walking around, moving through the space as if nothing unusual had just happened—like traveling through portals was just another task on her to-do list, hardly worth acknowledging.

I swallowed again, forcing myself upright, eyes darting over my new surroundings.

Answers.

That’s why I was here.

Celeste stood there, watching me closely, giving me just enough space to steady myself, to let the nausea fade, to come to terms with what had just happened.

She didn’t offer words of reassurance. Didn’t ask if I was okay in the way most people would.

She waited, patient and knowing, as if she already understood that I would be fine—because I had no choice but to be.

Once my breathing settled, once I swallowed down the last remnants of disorientation, she finally spoke, her tone as casual as if we had been discussing the weather.

“Help me with a spell, would you?”

I blinked.

“A… spell?”

She hummed, already moving, already gathering items like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“A spell for seeking answers,” she clarified lightly, flicking her gaze back toward me with a knowing glint, as if she had just asked me to do something I was already capable of.

As if I was a mage myself.

I stiffened, my throat suddenly dry, my pulse kicking up again.

I wasn’t.

I was wolfless.

Yet somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Celeste knew something I didn’t—that she wasn’t just asking me to help, but to participate.

To use something I wasn’t even sure I had.

And goddess help me—I was too curious not to find out why.