The Forbidden Omega

Chapter Four: The Howls Of Love Lost

I can't get Soren out of my head, in the agonizing week that follows. My emotions shift from general anxiety about the alarming behaviour Jason displayed, to frantic longing for Soren to return, to finally devastated pining after the breathtaking, perfectly sized omega. My wolf initially is a ceaseless bundle of tended nerves, restless energy thinking that every customer could be him. Every flash of gold is the sun flinging off of Soren's hair. Every whiff of lavender my brain starts to anticipate his presence.

He's just the right height for me to kiss, or hold in times of grief. I could tuck him into my arms, rest my chin on his head and hold him, all with minimal effort. Neither too short nor too slim for my strength. 'Just right' proportions for my body.

He was my perfect match, his height as an omega matched my gigantic alpha build. Yet somehow he remained with that midget of an alpha, who couldn't even reach up to kiss him properly. Jason had to drag Soren down to his level to make their lips meet.

And not to mention the fear clouding his perfect scent, turning it to acrid smoke and ammonia. A sour scent that appealed to my kinder nature and inspired my protective instincts. His scent begged for help, as his lips refused to part. I couldn't act on mere scent markers alone, though. I had no legal ability to rescue him. Especially since, for all intensive purposes, he doesn't want to be rescued.

That was another clear sign that he was unhappy, possibly even terrified of Jason. I had nearly lost my control of my wolf as I bid them goodbye.

My wolf has been in a state of total catatonia since I watched Soren's golden curls disappear around the corner at the end of the street. He hasn't even tried to find an interest in the outside world. While normally I would celebrate my inner alpha being calm and pacified, in this instance, I felt only fear.

I was actually fearing my wolf never returning, dying inside me as he longs for an omega we cannot have. The trauma was massive, which would eventually result in a total loss of my shifts, and I could lose my entire sense of self, who I am as a person, with the death of my inner identity. I would lose the ability to call myself a Wolf. It was the single most frightening experience I have ever gone through in my life. A living death, in its essence.

It was, far and large, the worst fate a Wolf could fall prey to. A fate occurring once in every trillion pairings. Possibly two to three wolves in the entire history as yet recorded have fallen to the same trap. It never happens, when you meet your mate, your scent gives him or her the same feeling of bliss. It was unheard of for the other party to not receive the same reaction to your scent.

To not fall hopelessly in love at the first whiff.

By the time Tuesday rolled in, I've come to the conclusion that my omega was never going to return. I've accepted the death of my wolf as inevitable, and am trying to make the best of a bad situation.

It is all I can do. I don't even know Soren's family name, or a phone number I could reach him with. I know nothing of importance in his life, yet I can only pray to the gods for a miracle. They are only ones who could change the way the fates wove my life.

As it stands, I don't expect it. I may be a good believer, say my devotionals regularly, and live by their tenets, but it would take a High Priestess to inspire an intervention in this world. And if the current state of the country is anything to go by, I don't think the Old Gods care all that much about us.

I simply don't understand how Jason could treat my Omega like that. How he could lower Soren's status to a mere possession. I was taught from birth that omegas are precious creatures, valued and respected. Mum never let her litter, me and my six brothers and sisters, think of any alignment as lesser. She drove it into our skulls so that when it came time for us to present, we would still be as close as anything.

Mum reminded us every day to watch out for our omega siblings, so that rogue alphas don't become tempted. She taught us to protect them.

Which makes the aggression all the more appalling to me, the subtle display of dominance truly worrisome. I couldn't imagine the behavior he had behind closed doors. I truly feared that the little bite I saw was only the latest in casual violence against my Soren.

But, I remind myself as I pull a cherry pie from the oven as the rain sheets down outside, small flashes of lightning and booms of thunder accompanying the drumming of the water on the roof. But.

But it's not in my power to interfere. But Soren didn't respond at all to my scent. But I'm just an alpha who has no connection to the perfect omega. But Soren didn't choose me as his mate.

But.

Even though the things I saw were shocking and certainly not acceptable, as an outsider, I couldn't challenge Jason for his hand. I have no claim whatsoever to Soren's heart, and therefore no legal foothold to rescue him. If he even wants to be rescued. I don't know.

Even if it destroys my wolf, I have to let him go.

It's the only possible future for us, as long as Soren remains loyal to Jason. If I could, I would easily rend that pig of an alpha limb from limb, tear his throat like the flesh and wines was nothing more than butter. But if he - Soren - held any regard for him, my hand was stayed. I couldn't harm the bastard as much as I wanted to.

Because, for whatever reason, Soren cared for him. And I cannot harm anything my mate loves.

No matter how sick and foolish, no matter how twisted it was, he loved the short alpha, and I can't touch him.