The Silent Cry of an Omega

First Sight

Her breath was quickly caught in her throat, whilst her chest heaved with rapid, shallow gasps. Slowly, her life began to unravel before her eyes, memories flashing like fleeting images on a crumbling film reel. The air seemed to thicken, becoming a glacial mist that refused to budge, leaving her lungs gasping for oxygen.

As fear’s icy grip tightened around her heart, her eyelids fluttered closed, and tears began to flow down her cheeks like an uneven rainfall. The salty droplets fell, each one a tiny, gleaming confession of her deepest terror. The plastic bag slowly slipped out of her grip as her toenails fearfully dug into the soil. “Please…! No…!” She whispered, her breath shaking uncontrollably. The atmosphere was suddenly cold, making her freeze on the spot.

Refusing to breathe, and gathering her final strength, Ophelia slowly turned around, her eyes still shut. There was no need to run; she understood that it would not do her any good. Her eyes slowly opened; from the ground, they timidly went up to the huge figure of an unknown male who had stopped a few steps away from her.

The moon excitedly threw its beam down on the figure of the man, quickly illuminating his sharp features. His startling blue eyes were like two shards of ice, piercing right through Ophelia, shamelessly rummaging all her secrets. His face was as white as a sheet; none of its features revealed hope, nor warmth. All the angles were sharp, his lips were thin, lifeless, and pressed together, refusing to spew anything related to emotions.

Ophelia slowly looked up at the stranger’s face, her eyes quickly froze at his eyes. As their gazes met, the world around them slowly began to disappear, leaving them alone in a dome of warmth. Their eyes were locked in understanding. They knew, they understood what was happening at that moment.

“MATE!”

Ophelia’s wolf groaned and everything inside of her jingled with life; all of a sudden. It was as if stumbling upon a long-lost piece of herself, a missing fragment that made her whole. Her heart was beating fast; not from fear but with passion and dedication. She did not realise when her legs had walked towards the unknown man, and stopped only a breath away.

Her eyes flickered with hope as she stared into the eyes of her mate, who dared not to budge. “It is him! He is here for me!” Delighted, Ophelia exclaimed. Her hands were no longer shaking, however, tears did continue to meander through her cheeks. No, not sadness; absolutely not. Her dry lips sharply curled into a gummy smile, and waited for her mate to say something, anything.

“Pathetic, I guess they don’t listen to their leaders. Is she running away?” An unknown gentleman showed up behind Ophelia’s mate, rudely popping their bubble with his deep, unruly voice. Her mate did not respond to the remark, his eyes continued to travel upon her features as if he was searching for something. His gaze remained heavy with deep contemplation. His lips, however, slowly parted, ready to allow words to escape.

“Thank you so much! Now, this one is in big trouble!” The Luna of the Fridolf Pack suddenly showed up, intruding before Ophelia's mate could say something. The woman lazily placed her hand on her naked waist and glared at Ophelia with a grin that made her heart hammer itself against her rib cage.

Slowly, Ophelia took a step back. Her smile had swiftly dwindled, and was now replaced by a whimper. “H-he…he is my mate. He should help me! What is going on!?” Ophelia silently calculated when the guard of the Fridolf Pack showed up and sharply restrained her arms. Without warning, her mate turned around and left Ophelia surrounded by the guards whose glances promised to torment her.

“N-no!”