The Poor Omega? I am the Secret Shadow King!

Chapter 1: The Alpha Who Walks as Omega (Aspen's POV) The moon hung low, its cold light spilling over the snow-coated forest. Shadows crept around us, but they weren’t my enemies tonight. They were my hunters. My loyal warriors. I grew up in an orphanage and built my own pack when I awakened my wolf at the age of 14 . Now, I was the Alpha of Shadow Warriors pack, the second powerful pack in rogue wolves. I inhaled deeply, sifting through the frozen air for scents. A sharp edge of rot hit me. “North,” Jake mind-linked me, his rough voice grating against my thoughts. “They’re trying to mask it, but I can smell them.” I nodded. Jake was sharp. He’d been my right-hand since the day I formed the Shadow Warriors pack. His loyalty wasn’t just out of respect, but earned through bloodshed and survival. “Omega Hunters,” I bit out, my amber eyes narrowing. My paws crunched softly against the ground as I edged forward. “Finally found them.” Seven victims in a moon cycle. Seven Omegas left broken or worse. My claws dug into the frost-packed ground. I wouldn’t let them see another sunrise. “Formation Delta,” I ordered through our pack link. The voices of my warriors responded instantly, their presence vanishing into the night like whispers carried off by the wind. No one needed further instructions. The penalty for targeting the weak was already clear. The stench grew thicker the closer we crept. Through the low haze that crawled along the frosted ground, the faint glow of a campfire flickered ahead. Laughter spilled into the air—a sick mockery of joy. There they were. Five of them. Wolves. Disgraces. "Pathetic," I murmured under my breath, my lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth. The leader of the group—a brutish dark wolf with nasty old scars cutting across his knuckles—shoved one of the others. Their laughter echoed in the night as if the corpses of their victims didn’t linger like shadows at the edges of their camp. Enough. Silent agreement rippled through the pack bond. The air changed. I was the first to step forward. My white fur gleamed like a phantom in the silver moonlight as I became a blur. The leader’s grin turned to shock, his movements too sluggish to react before my fangs tore into his throat, ending his pitiful life in seconds. The clearing exploded into chaos. Jake’s enormous black wolf form was next, crashing into two of the rogues before they even shifted fully. Bones snapped. Cries of panic filled the frozen air. Sarah, my quietest and deadliest warrior, launched herself onto the enemy's largest wolf, snapping his spine as if it were dry timber. Efficient. One rogue turned to flee. Fool. Swift as the night’s wind, I moved in front of him, planting myself firmly in his path. He fell back, scrambling on the icy ground as I loomed over him. “Mercy!” he begged, his voice breaking under his fear. “Please, I didn’t—” “You didn’t?” My snarl silenced him, my fangs flashing. "What about those who begged you?" I leaned down slowly, the heat of my breath making him shiver even more. “Run to the afterlife. Maybe you’ll find forgiveness there.” His howl of pain was short-lived, barely carrying far as I silenced it with swift justice. Around me, the forest fell quiet once more. Only the fresh scent of spilled blood and snow remained. "Alpha," Jake’s voice called through the mind-link, calm and collected despite the m******e we had just caused, "the camp is clear, but there’s something... odd. You need to see this." Curiosity burned through me as I followed him to the cave they had hidden behind thick bushes. The inside reeked of death and despair. Stale blood stained the rocky walls. But what drew my attention most was a small chest hidden away in the corner. My wolf's instincts clashed between curiosity and skepticism. Sarah stepped forward, holding up a scroll from the chest. The seal glowed faintly under the dim light. “Blood magic," she said grimly, handing it to me with care. "Dangerous and ancient." The second it touched my fingers, the world shifted. Images. Flashes. Memories that weren’t my own. A grand pack house surrounded by winter winds. A man’s strong arms holding a tiny wolf pup—me—as a woman’s cries echoed in the background. Rage. Betrayal. A prophecy whispered in reverence. I stumbled back, gasping for air as my wolf howled in recognition. For years, I believed myself a stray. An abandoned nothing. But this… This was proof. I wasn’t just anyone. I belonged to the Wintercrest Pack. Daughter of Marcus and Serena Winters. Heir to a bloodline rivaled by none. "Shadow?" Jake’s voice brought me back, his gaze heavy with worry. He had seen my shock yet dared not question it. "It's nothing," I lied, my voice perfectly steady. "Burn the rest of the camp. We’re done here." --- (Alexander's POV) The faint notes of coffee scented the room, swirling lazily in the office as I scanned over my reports. It was mundane work. Necessary, but not engaging. As the Alpha of Eastern Supreme Pack, protecting the Eastern Supreme Pack required precision. "Alpha!" Oliver’s voice barged into my peace, his excitement stomping over every ounce of professionalism I’d expected. I sighed. "What is it, Oliver?" Grinning like a child who’d just found a treasure chest, the Beta made himself at home in the opposing chair. "Big news out of the north! The lost daughter of Wintercrest has been found!" I leaned back, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Wintercrest? Marcus Winters' pack?" "Exactly," he said, his grin widening. "The guy who turned his back on the Supreme Northern title for love. Oh, and get this—his daughter… your fiancée." In our country, besides the rogue wolves, the werewolf world was managed by the Alpha Council, which was consisted by the Alphas of four most powerful packs: Northern, Eastern, Southern, and Western Supreme pack. Many years ago, even before I was born, my grandfather and the Alpha of Northern Supreme pack had arranged a marriage between me and his granddaughter. But that girl was lost when she was very young, so no one has ever mentioned this ridiculous engagement over the years. I didn’t flinch. "Fiancée? That old alliance? You don't seriously think it's valid." "Oh, it's valid," Oliver said, chuckling. "Your grandfather will see to it. Marcus' eldest being alive changes everything, you know. North meets East. Yada yada. But—" I cut him off sharply. "Enough." If the girl was an Omega—no, that wasn’t even worth discussing. “No Omega could ever stand as mate to the Eastern Supreme Alpha,” I said coolly. Oliver chuckled again, but he wisely dropped the subject. (Aspen's POV) The journey to the Wintercrest border was grueling, not physically but emotionally. Walking as an Omega, truly blending in among the wolves that society stamped beneath its heel, exposed truths I hated to see. Alphas barking insults—Betas smug with false superiority. I forced myself into the role of prey. Submission in every muscle. Yet victory sat sweetly on the tip of my tongue each time I crushed the impulse to rip their confidence apart. I didn’t linger at safehouses. Didn’t risk drawing attention. Every step across territories was careful, deliberate. Still—watching how the weak suffered strengthened my resolve to rewrite these laws when the time came. At last, the Wintercrest border loomed ahead. Pines rose like jagged sentinels around us, framing the snowy valley beyond. My body was small once again, shifted into a form of weakness I'd never truly known but had adapted to portray. The pack bond thrummed faintly. I could feel them now. My mother. My father. My brothers. Each distant yet frighteningly close. My wolf surged forward, urging me to drop the act and challenge my stolen past head-on. Instead, I tightened the leash on her resistance. To uncover the truth, I couldn’t be seen as a threat. Not yet. Taking a step forward, I crossed the boundary, my heart a storm of emotions. "It begins," I whispered, letting out a long, thin breath. The act was already in play.