I am a twenty years old, adult omega wolf, and the top item on my wishlist this year was to be claimed by my mate. I also hoped my parents—both omega wolves—would stand by my side to bless me.
But just a few days ago, that dream shattered when my father passed away from illness, and I just buried him this morning. We didn’t have much money for a funeral, and my mother was too sick to come with me.
Actually, I found my mate two years ago. He’s a beta wolf—tall, handsome, and always thoughtful enough to plan every detail of our dates. He shot prizes for me at carnivals, kissed me on Ferris wheels, and accompanied me to eat street food that wasn’t exactly clean. He never treated me roughly just because I was an omega; instead, he gave me respect. That’s extremely rare in a werewolf society divided by bloodlines.
Today, I needed his arms around me. He told me he had a bad cold and couldn’t go to the cemetery with me. I said it was okay, but deep down, I just wanted to see him for comfort.
I hurried down the road home, repeating to myself that everything would get better. But when I pushed open the door, the air felt like it had been sucked out of the room. I had thought even if the world fell apart, he would never betray me.
Yet there he was, gripping another she-wolf’s hips, thrusting hard behind her. His gasps mingled with her muffled moans.
I blinked, feeling my blood freeze in my veins. My legs gave out, and I crashed into a chair in front of me.
“Baby?” The cheating bastard finally noticed me.
I watched as he pathetically grabbed his boxers, pulled them on in a rush, and walked toward me. His face was pale, his hair messy, and his lips—those that had whispered eternal promises to me—were swollen from the passion he’d just shared with another woman.
My gaze fell on the half-naked she-wolf on the bed. Her lower body was bare, the silk sheets tangled around her as she frantically tried to cover herself.
For a split second, she stared at me in panic, then grabbed the sheets, ran to the bathroom, and slammed the door shut.
I just looked at Dmitri. I’d expected a mate’s embrace, but he’d given me a huge “surprise.”
“Elena,” Dmitri approached, raising his hand as if to explain. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear on the moon goddess. I can explain. It’s just a tiny mistake—a misunderstanding. I can…”
I suddenly burst out laughing. He obviously thought I was an idiot. Of course, everyone sees omega wolves as idiots.
I held up a hand to stop him. My voice was calm. “Dmitri, your dick was inside another she-wolf. Or are you saying that was your ghost, not the real you?”
“It was me,” Dmitri nodded, then quickly added. “But I just needed a release. It doesn’t mean I want her. You know you’re my mate.”
“Once was,” I cut him off. “Dmitri, you don’t respect me, and you don’t respect the bond of the moon goddess. I won’t blame you, because we’re strangers now.”
“Fuck! This isn’t betrayal!” Dmitri roared, pulling his pants on in a hurry. He glanced at the naked she-wolf. “I don’t even know her. She just came to sell—”
“Sell how wet her pussy is?” Rage burned in my veins. His excuses made me sick. “Enough, Dmitri. You can continue. I’m leaving now.”
I turned to go. I knew my voice was calm, but anyone who’s been betrayed by their mate knows how much it hurts. But letting someone who doesn’t value you see your tears would only be another humiliation.
But Dmitri grabbed me immediately. “No! Elena! You can’t leave like this. I planned to take you to meet my parents tomorrow. You know they’ve been wanting to see you.”
I stared at him, thinking of my wishlist. If I stayed, I’d cross that item off, then have a few pups with Dmitri—pups whose bloodline wouldn’t be omega.
In the werewolf world, changing one’s bloodline is what everyone strives for. Bloodline equals power. But my father told me; as omegas, we must respect our own self-worth, and only then will others respect us.
My father was my pride. He raised me and my mother, using his strong body to shield us from all storms. We were a happy family, only if illness hadn’t taken him away.
I wanted a life without betrayal, where we were honest and trusted each other. That’s what I dreamed of for a family.
I pulled my hand away sharply. “Find someone who can accept your bullshit to marry. Unfortunately, that’s not me.”
“Fuck! Elena, you’re just an omega! Marry me, and you won’t have to worry about your $2,000 rent. Your mother will live in a clean, bright nursing home. You’ll have a shiny penthouse and servants. Don’t you want that life?” Dmitri shouted behind me.
I grabbed the doorknob, pausing for a moment. “It sounds tempting. But unfortunately, I’d rather be chased by my landlord and run around—at least that means I’m still alive. I don’t want to be a numb pet in a golden cage. Dmitri, that’s it. I’m sorry our life goals don’t align.” I glanced back at him. “Goodbye. No, never see you again.”
“No, this isn’t the end. You’ll crawl back to me begging,” Dmitri said coldly.
I slammed the door shut immediately. Once outside, tears poured out of my eyes.
All my love, the mate bond, the beautiful memories we shared—they all stayed on those stained sheets. There was nothing left of them in my heart. I realized with a jolt: I’d lost my father, and now I had to mourn the marital life that would never be.
I needed to calm down. My mother was waiting for me at home, worried if I’d managed to finish the funeral alone.
I walked into the small space my family rented in the pack house. It was a tiny place with a small living room, one bedroom, and a shared kitchen. Before all this, the living room had basically been my bedroom.
It was dark, the lights were off, and the room was eerily quiet. The funeral had only been that morning, but it felt like an eternity ago. Night had fallen.
I hugged myself, a shiver running down my spine. Everything felt different. Colder.
I stepped inside, swallowing the lump in my throat and the bitterness spreading in my mouth.
“Mum?” I called, reaching for the only light in the living room.
No one answered. I turned on the light and walked to her bedroom, my hand reaching for the doorknob. She must have fallen asleep. I’d left her resting there when I went to see Dmitri. Hell, I wished I had never gone.
I pushed the bedroom door open, and even through my tear-blurred vision, I could see the room was empty.
I frowned, closed the door, and headed for the kitchen. It was quiet there too, and I wondered if she’d gone somewhere else.
I could still smell her, but it was faint.
I grabbed the doorknob and pushed it open, scanning the kitchen. I was about to close the door when my eyes fell on the small space behind it.
A gasp escaped my throat as I struggled to process what I was seeing.
My mother was on the floor, curled up behind the door, her eyes closed, her beautiful blonde hair spread out on the ground.
“Mum!” I screamed, my voice breaking with fear as I rushed to her, letting go of the door.
She wasn’t moving, and she didn’t look conscious. The room spun around me as I pulled her into my arms.
“Mum!”
Her skin was clammy with sweat. My hands frantically searched her neck, face, and nostrils for any sign of life. Anything.
She was burning up, her lips parted. Small red splotches—burns—covered her arms.
What the hell had happened?
I shook her hard, my chest heaving with terror. I couldn’t do this again. I couldn’t lose anyone else.
“Mum, please. Can you hear me? Mum! Wake up! Please!”
There was no response. Tears filled my eyes, but I knew I couldn’t just sit there. I needed to take her to the emergency room. I needed doctors.
I managed to lift her up, grabbed a coat, and rushed out. I had to get her to the healing facility.
“Stay with me,” I whispered to her as I hailed the first taxi I could find. “Please, Mum. Stay with me.”
