The Omega's Fight

The bar was busy, just like every time a team came home. There was an extra buzz in the air tonight because the team was successful in their mission. Laugher could be heard, hugs, slaps on the backs given, and kissing could be seen. There had been a greater number of disturbances lately of Vampire attacks and our pack had been called to respond to the action. The mission given by the counsel covered the area of the Northwestern region of the American territory. Every able-bodied pack member had to participate, for being called to defend was a great honor. Almost all pack members were required to begin physical training at age five and then shifter training, usually between ages 12-15. The only pack members excluded were those younger than five, pregnant shifters, Elders, and Omegas. Although all Omegas were encouraged to participate, only about half had the determination and drive. The other half simply did not have the strength or capabilities to be an effective fighter. There was one last exception for those not required for training and that was because you were a prisoner or serving a  sentence as a form of punishment. I kind of fell into the latter category a little. Or rather, I had my own special conditions because my situation was unique. If what I was told is true, my mother died during birth with me. My father was so overcome with grief from the loss of his mate that he took off and left me behind. I was seven at the time and two years into training. To date, no one has seen or heard from him since his abrupt departure. Because I was parentless and hated by the Alpha, I was not placed with another family, because secretly no one wanted the cursed child, but into one of the Omega’s quarters and given Omega duties to do. I was still allowed to participate in training and go to school. That was until one day our group was at the waterfall, a regular hangout spot. Everything had been great, until we had been attacked by a group of vampires. None of us had shifted yet because we were all under the age of 12. I was only 10 at the time and was good friends with the Alpha’s only son. I was strong and one of the best fighters for my age group. That did not make me qualified to take on full-grown vampires. I remember thinking we were all going to die, but in my mind at the time I was going to go down swinging. I remember the attack on that day with extreme clarity because that was the day that changed my life forever. It didn’t matter that I almost died protecting the Alpha’s son. Or that I spent several months in our medical building recovering from severe injuries or that I had shifted incredibly early. No, all that mattered was that he died, and I did not. I have paid the price for surviving for the past seven years and the years have not been easy. My only out would be to find my mate, but I pray that if I am blessed with a mate, that my mate is not from my pack. My pack treats me as a servant and that is lower than an Omega. I’ve been a punching bag for anyone with or without anger issues. The Alpha was the leading charge in mental and physical abuse. His job was to protect all wolves under his care, except me. That rule didn’t apply to me. I wanted to so many times to shift and run away. I have also tried to end my life a time or two. Except the Alpha had brought in a witch that performed a containment spell placed on me while I was recovering from that day in the medical area. The conditions of the spell prevented me from shifting, harming myself, leaving the pack’s territory, and I could not tell anyone about the spell. Even before I was fully recovered physically, I was forced to be the pack’s slave. I was made to live out my days as a reminder of how cursed I was and pay for my actions towards the Alpha’s son. My life has not been an easy one. I have been the pack’s punching bag and servant for the last seven years. I rarely cried anymore, I had to become mentally tough, basically trying to become a robot. Because if I expressed any emotion to the verbal or physical abuse, the punishments would get more intense. Yet I have survived and have the physical and emotional scars to prove it, so I must be strong. I must have a will to live at least a little bit. I think the only thing that has really been keeping me going is that when I turn 18, which is just a month away, I could possibly find my mate. My mate, he could be the person to save me from this hell hole, because the mate bond will have the power to override this witch’s curse, as I like to call it.