The Girl Everyone Overlooks
2078 Words
The training grounds had never felt more like a battlefield.
Selene stood at the edge of the Omega training circle, her hands clenched at her sides, her heart still racing from the morning's revelations. Three weeks. Three weeks until the ceremony. Three weeks until everything she didn't understand about Damon Voss became irrelevant.
She hadn't slept. Couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his grey eyes locked onto hers, felt the desperate pull that refused to release her, heard the elder's cold voice echoing through her skull.
The Alpha knows his duty. He'll do what's right for the pack.
Selene pressed her palm against her sternum, trying to quiet the restless ache that had taken up permanent residence in her chest. It didn't work. Nothing worked anymore.
The morning's training session had been called for all Omegas—a humiliating ritual designed to remind them of their place. While the warriors sparred in the main ring, the Omegas were forced to demonstrate their "skills" in a smaller, dirtier circle at the edge of the grounds.
Selene hated these sessions. Hated the way the warriors would stop and watch, their eyes filled with contempt. Hated the way the other Omegas would whisper behind their hands, their voices sharp with judgment. Hated the way she always seemed to end up at the center of their attention.
Today was no different.
"Selene Blackwood."
The trainer's voice cut through the morning air like a whip. Selene flinched, her stomach dropping. She knew that tone. Knew what was coming.
"Step forward."
She forced her feet to move. One step. Two. Three. Until she stood in the center of the training circle, surrounded by Omegas who refused to meet her eyes and warriors who watched with barely concealed amusement.
"Demonstrate your defensive stance," the trainer commanded. "Show us what you've learned."
Selene's throat tightened. She knew the stance. Had practiced it a thousand times in the privacy of her quarters, desperate to prove she was more than the pack's lowest rank. But under the weight of so many watching eyes, her body refused to cooperate.
She shifted her weight. Dropped into the stance. Felt her muscles lock up the moment she did.
"Pathetic," the trainer said flatly. "You call that a defensive stance? A child could knock you over."
Selene's face burned. She wanted to disappear. Wanted to sink through the ground and never be seen again. But she forced herself to hold the stance, to keep her chin up, to pretend the words didn't cut as deep as they did.
"Again," the trainer ordered. "Properly this time."
Selene adjusted. Tried to relax her shoulders. Tried to find the balance that always seemed to elude her when she was being watched.
"Still wrong." The trainer stepped closer, his voice rising. "How many times do we have to teach you the same thing? You're an Omega. The lowest rank in the pack. The least important wolf in existence. Act like it."
Selene's eyes burned. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Wouldn't let them see how much their words hurt.
But the trainer wasn't finished.
"You're useless," he said, his voice carrying across the training grounds. "Absolutely useless. I don't know why the pack even bothers to feed you. You contribute nothing. You are nothing. Do you understand me, Omega?"
Selene's breath caught. She opened her mouth to respond—to say something, anything—but the words wouldn't come.
And then she heard it.
A growl.
Low. Deep. Primal.
Coming from the main training circle.
Selene's head snapped up. Her eyes found Damon Voss in an instant—the future Alpha, standing in the center of the warrior's ring, his chest heaving, his grey eyes burning with an intensity that stole the air from her lungs.
He was looking at her.
No. He was looking at the trainer. And his expression was terrifying.
The growl rumbled from his chest again, deeper this time, more dangerous. Selene watched the warrior beside him take an instinctive step back. Watched his Beta's face go pale. Watched the other warriors freeze mid-spar, their eyes wide with shock.
Damon Voss had never growled at anyone during training. Not once in his entire life.
But he was growling now.
The sound echoed across the training grounds, primal and possessive and completely impossible. Selene felt it vibrate through her chest, felt her wolf stir in response—a flicker of warmth in the hollow space where she'd been so silent.
And then she saw Lilith.
The future Luna stood at the edge of the warrior's circle, her beautiful face perfectly composed, her smile warm and genuine. But her eyes—her eyes were sharp as daggers, fixed on Damon with an intensity that made Selene's blood run cold.
Lilith had noticed.
Of course she'd noticed. Lilith noticed everything. It was how she'd positioned herself as the perfect future Luna, the woman everyone expected Damon to choose.
Selene watched her file the moment away, watched the calculations flicker behind her eyes like a predator sizing up its prey.
And then Lilith smiled.
It was a beautiful smile. Warm. Genuine. Utterly convincing.
But Selene knew, with absolute certainty, that she'd just become a target.
---
The trainer had stopped speaking.
Selene realized it with a start—the man was frozen, his mouth half-open, his face pale as milk. He'd heard the growl too. Everyone had.
And everyone was looking at Damon.
"Alpha?" His Beta's voice cut through the silence, tentative and uncertain. "Is everything alright?"
Damon blinked. The mask slid back into place—the composed, controlled future Alpha, untouchable and untroubled. But Selene saw the tremor in his hands, the way his jaw clenched as he forced himself to look away from her.
"Fine," he said, his voice rough. "Just... tired."
The Beta didn't look convinced. Neither did the warriors. Neither did anyone.
But no one argued with the future Alpha.
Damon turned away from the main circle, his shoulders tight, his hands still shaking. Selene watched him walk toward the edge of the training grounds, watched him disappear into the shadows of the treeline without looking back.
And then she heard it.
"Interesting."
Lilith's voice, soft and amused, coming from somewhere behind her. Selene turned, her heart pounding, and found the future Luna watching her with those sharp, calculating eyes.
"The Alpha seems distracted today," Lilith continued, her smile never faltering. "I wonder why."
Selene didn't respond. Couldn't respond. Her throat was too tight, her chest too full of terrified hope.
Lilith stepped closer, her hand brushing Selene's arm with practiced ease. "Be careful, Selene," she murmured, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Damon is a good man. But he has a lot of pressure on him. The ceremony, the Council, the pack... sometimes he doesn't know what's best for himself."
Selene's stomach dropped. "I don't know what you mean."
Lilith laughed. A soft, musical sound. The kind that was supposed to be charming.
"Of course you don't," she said. "Just... be careful. That's all I'm saying."
And then she walked away, her perfect posture never faltering, her beautiful smile never wavering.
Selene watched her go, her heart pounding, her palms sweating.
And she knew, with absolute certainty, that Lilith Vance had just marked her as a threat.
---
The rest of the training session passed in a blur.
Selene went through the motions—dodging, blocking, pretending to listen to the trainer's instructions—but her mind was elsewhere. With Damon. With the growl that had echoed across the training grounds. With the terrifying realization that the future Alpha had just defended her in front of the entire pack.
Why? she asked herself over and over. Why would he do that? Why would he risk everything for an Omega?
But she already knew the answer.
Mate.
The word echoed through her skull, impossible and terrifying and completely insane. She couldn't be Damon's mate. She was an Omega. The lowest rank in the pack. The least important wolf in existence.
But the growl had been real. The desperation in his eyes had been real. The pull that refused to release her had been real.
And Selene was terrified of what it all meant.
---
The sun had set by the time Selene returned to the Omega quarters.
She was exhausted—bone-deep tired in a way that made her feel like she was moving through water. But she couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop replaying the moment Damon had growled, the way his eyes had burned with an intensity that stole her breath.
He defended you, a voice whispered. He couldn't help it. His wolf couldn't help it.
Selene pressed her palm against her chest, trying to quiet the restless ache. It didn't work.
She was still awake when the moon rose, still staring at the cracked ceiling of her quarters, still wondering what she was supposed to do.
And she was still awake when she heard the footsteps.
Soft. Careful. Deliberate.
Coming from the direction of the main hall.
Selene sat up, her heart pounding. The Omega quarters were in the back of the pack house, far from the main corridors. No one ever came here at night.
But someone was coming now.
She rose from her cot, her bare feet silent against the cold stone floor, and crept toward the doorway. The footsteps were getting closer—closer, closer, closer—
And then they stopped.
Selene held her breath. Pressed her back against the wall. Waited.
She heard a soft rustle. The sound of paper sliding against stone. And then the footsteps retreated, quick and silent.
Selene waited until she was certain whoever had been there was gone. Then she stepped into the hallway, her heart pounding, and looked down.
A piece of parchment lay on the floor.
She bent down, her fingers trembling, and picked it up. The paper was warm—still holding the heat of whoever had carried it—and sealed with a single drop of black wax.
No crest. No identifying mark.
Selene stared at it for a long moment. Then she broke the seal.
The message was short.
Three sentences. Five words.
It has started. Watch your back.
Selene's blood ran cold. She read the words again. And again. And again.
It has started. Watch your back.
Who had sent this? And what had started?
She looked up, her eyes scanning the darkened hallway. But there was no one there. Just the empty corridors of the pack house, silent and cold and waiting.
Selene pressed the note against her chest, her heart pounding, her mind racing.
It has started.
She didn't know what it meant. Didn't know who had sent the message. Didn't know what she was supposed to do with the information.
But she knew, with absolute certainty, that something had just changed.
Something fundamental.
And Selene had the terrible, terrifying suspicion that she was at the center of it all.
---
Across the pack house, in the Alpha's private study, Damon Voss stared at the parchment in his hands.
It had slipped under his door sometime in the night. He hadn't seen who left it. Hadn't heard any footsteps.
But the message was clear.
Four words. Written in ink so black it seemed to absorb the candlelight.
She knows about you.
Damon's blood ran cold. He read the words again. And again. And again.
She knows about you.
Who was "she"? Lilith? One of the Elders? Someone else entirely?
Damon's hands clenched around the parchment, his jaw tight. He'd been careful. So careful. He'd tried to keep his distance from Selene, tried to pretend she didn't exist, tried to bury the impossible pull that kept dragging him toward her.
But someone had noticed.
Someone knew.
And Damon had the terrifying suspicion that whoever had sent this message wasn't finished with him yet.
He looked at the parchment one more time, his eyes burning with unshed tears.
She knows about you.
Damon closed his eyes and made a decision.
He needed to see Selene. Not because he wanted to—because he had to. Because if someone else knew about the pull between them, if someone else was watching, then Selene was in danger.
And Damon would do anything—anything—to protect her.
Even if it meant destroying everything he'd ever been taught to believe.
Even if it meant destroying himself.
- Writer
