The wolfless omega

Imogen pov The night Alderwood crumbled, I felt what silver truly does to a she-wolf's body. I stood at the safehouse door with a bucket in each hand when an arrow hit the storage house across the yard. That was the first attack of the night, and there was no scream or means of alert after the shot; for a couple of minutes I froze there. "Imogen," my mother finally called. Her voice strained from the main hall. "Get the pups down! Now!" Smoke was already rolling over the roof. Panicking, I ran straight for the well. At nineteen, I was just the alpha's third daughter and so naive that I presumed the well was still safe. When I tasted the water, it was bitter, but I had drunk half the dipper. Wolfsbane was already in my blood. I carried the bucket to the safehouse anyway. In the room, there were seven pups all packed against a huge stone at the end of the room. Their eyes were wide and their pupils dilated as they stared at me. I handed the water to the oldest, who was just nine, and told her not to drink it; she nodded. I staggered from the wolfsbane, still wondering why I brought the water back to the safehouse despite knowing it was harmful when I felt a sharp pain pierce my upper back. An arrow punched through the door straight to me. I fell to my knees. Before I could fully comprehend the pain. Kiki rose inside of me and ripped control away from me despite the wolfsbane suppressing her. She bolted out with the silver arrow pierced through her spine. Every step was harder than the last, and Kiki had to seek help as she dashed into the forest. Immediately, another arrow hit us; a loud howl tore from her throat, but we still had to run. Behind us, the hall was burning. I could hear the groaning from pack members. I turned back to the safehouse; I couldn't leave the pups in there despite the pain I was going through. A burning log was about to fall across the door of the safehouse when I threw myself at it. I shoved it clear and got the door open, allowing the pups to flee out of the safehouse and escape through the tunnel in time. I thought I had enough strength, but my wolf started fading. She tried to heal me, but not even a growl came from her. "Wait," I whispered. "Kiki. Please wait." She couldn't respond anymore, and she stopped fighting as I shifted back, lying in the smoke. By morning, the fight was over. I still lay in the ash alone as the sun cleared the heap. Wolfless. I've heard that word countless times after that incident. Especially from females in the market square. If my mum was here, she would have squeezed my hand and told me everything was fine, but my mum was somewhere in the wreckage of Alderwood Pack, just as the Moon Goddess had destined. I touched my wrist and smelled it once more, to see if I could perceive a scent, but there was nothing. It was clear I was living on false hope; it was so hard to believe that I had lost my wolf forever. I remembered crawling on the burned remains of the stables with my sleeves pulled over my forearms to reach the coast, to find a boat--any boat to anywhere--but there was no boat. I had to walk that morning, leaving everything behind. It took me two days to reach Grayford with the pair of boots I had taken from the farmhouse. It was best for a lonely girl to cross the Grayford Pack at night before the members woke up and started asking questions. I'd heard a lot about them, so they weren't the type to help me, but the type I had to escape from. I sat under a huge olive tree, waiting for the night to deepen before I could complete my journey. Food wasn't difficult; I ate whatever fruit I could find in the forest. As I was on the verge of dozing off, a lantern lit up. "Stop." Six men in black jackets and washed badges surrounded me. Blackridge Patrol. Everyone knew that badge. Blackridge was the biggest pack in the north, and a stray caught on their border was not a good thing, but I had nowhere else to go or nothing left to turn back to. I jumped into the river anyway, but they went after me with a rope that went round my wrist. Fighting it was useless so I gave in and let them bring me back to dry land. A gray-templed man I assumed was their captain took me by the chin between his two fingers and tilted my face toward the lantern. "Age." "Nineteen." "Pack?" I stayed quiet; I could not tell if they had issues with our pack, so I didn't want to mention Alderwood cause I might just end up being a fish on their hook. "Pack!" the gray-templed man shouted. "None," I whispered. The youngest one among them laughed behind him. The gray-templed man leaned toward me and breathed me in slowly; I stayed perfectly still as his gaze washed me from head to toe. I shifted my eyes from him to his other men just to avoid eye contact with him. He pulled back and took a step backward. "She's nothing. She's wolfless," he said in a low tone. "You dragged us out for a wolfless being?" the youngest one said. "The packhouse always needs hands in the kitchen," the captain responded. "Take the rope off and bring her along." That wasn't the end; the youngest one came down from his horse. "Let me welcome her properly," he said, half-shifted. Fangs bared, and his jaw cracked wildly. He dipped his fangs into my neck and paused for a few seconds. It hurt so bad but I couldn't scream; I was just standing there still, feeling his breath on my cheek. It seemed like a practice done to stray or strangers. I didn't say a word; I let him do what he was supposed to do until I started feeling my pulse in my throat. The other men stopped smirking. They darted their eyes from us to the captain as if waiting for him to say something. I was so weak that words couldn't escape my lips. "Enough," the captain ordered. He stared at me for a few seconds before hopping onto the back of his horse; the other men followed. I was the only one standing. "Walk," the captain ordered. I could not complain, so I followed them until the stars were out. Two men ahead of me and the rest behind me. I swung the rope softly; maybe the youngest would remember he was told to take the rope off me, but none of them paid me any heed. As we moved, my wrist began to grow sore and the boots became heavier. I tried to reach my wolf, but I couldn't; I haven't accepted the fact that Kiki was gone forever. "Saw a notice on the board in Hatcher Cross," one of them said behind me to no one in particular, "somebody paying gold for a stray... so funny. Look for a girl with a black birthmark on her wrist, dead or alive." "There's a notice every month," another responded. "It's always nothing." "Gold, though." "Gold," he nodded. At that moment, sweat broke out on my body, I curled my finger into my palm keeping my eyes glued to my boot, wondering how they couldn't tell it was me. They were still looking for me; whoever attacked my pack was looking for me. After a few minutes, we reached the Blackridge pack. The entrance was filled with broad-shouldered warriors with very bright torches. The captain came down from his horse, put a hand on my shoulder, and nudged me forward. "New life, stray. Try to be useful."