FRAGILE

Chapter 1: An Omega, Caged

Levi let out a barely audible whine as the Beta wolf stalked past his small cage in the damp, dimly lit basement. The Beta's eyes flicked toward him, burning with disdain, and his lip curled into a snarl. Levi quickly averted his gaze, bowing his head low, his body shrinking against the cold metal bars that held him captive. The glare from the Beta was a reminder of his place-beneath them all, at the bottom of the pack's hierarchy.

He'd grown used to it by now. The hatred. The disgust. It came from every corner of the pack, from the low-ranking wolves all the way up to the Alpha himself. Still, even after all this time, it hurt.

Levi retreated further into the shadows of his cage, his small, white frame trembling as he pressed his back against the corner. He curled in on himself, the rough concrete floor biting into his skin as he gingerly began to lick the fresh wounds that littered his body-gifts from the Beta's earlier attack. His tongue ran over a particularly deep gash on his forearm, and he winced, his muscles tensing in response to the sharp sting of pain.

It had all been a terrible accident. He hadn't meant to flash his teeth. The gesture, usually a sign of aggression among wolves, had been an instinctual reaction-one he couldn't control in the heat of the moment. The Beta had mocked him, jeered about his dead parents, and something inside Levi had snapped. A low growl had escaped him before he could stop it. And then, the flash of teeth.

That was all it had taken.

In the blink of an eye, the Beta was on him, tearing into him with all the pent-up fury of a superior wolf asserting dominance. Levi hadn't even fought back. He knew better than to resist-fighting back would've only made things worse. So he'd taken the beating, curling into a ball as fists and claws ripped into his skin. Now, all he could do was lick his wounds and hope they healed quickly before the next inevitable confrontation.

The physical pain was something Levi had grown numb to over the years. It was the words that lingered. The cruel, heartless words about his parents, their deaths, and how weak they must have been to leave him alone in this world. That pain never went away, no matter how many beatings he endured.

He could still hear the Beta's mocking voice in his head. Your parents were pathetic. It's no wonder they died like dogs. And Levi, stupid and reckless, had growled at him in response.

Now, he was paying the price.

Shivering, Levi closed his eyes, trying to block out the present, the cold, and the pain. He thought of how he had tried once-just once-to escape. The thought had been so foolish, so naive. He'd managed to slip away one night, running as fast and as far as his legs could carry him. But he hadn't gotten far. The pack had caught him before dawn, and the beating that followed had been so brutal that it nearly killed him. The lesson had been made clear: escape was impossible.

They told him, again and again, that the pack was merciful. No other pack would've let you live this long. It was a refrain he heard often, used to keep him in line, to make him believe that he was lucky to still be alive. And maybe, in some twisted way, it was true.

But it hadn't always been like this. There was a time when Levi had been loved. Protected. A time when his life was filled with warmth instead of pain.

Six Years Ago

Levi sat on the porch beside his father, his small legs swinging as he waited impatiently for the family outing to begin. It was his fourth birthday, and today, they were going to the lake. Levi's father, a strong and respected third-in-command of the pack, had promised him a picnic by the water. The idea of swimming in the cool lake made Levi's heart race with excitement.

His mother stood nearby, packing the last of the food into a wicker basket, her soft smile making Levi feel safe and loved. "Mommy, can I go swim now?" Levi asked, bouncing on his toes, his bright eyes shining with eagerness.

She chuckled and nodded. "Go on, but don't go too far. Lunch will be ready soon."

Without another word, Levi ran to the lake, plunging into the cool water with a delighted squeal. He loved swimming, loved the freedom it gave him. For a few minutes, everything felt perfect. Peaceful.

But while Levi swam, unseen danger approached.

A group of hunters-humans-circled his parents before they had a chance to react. Levi's father fought bravely, his mother alongside him, but the humans were merciless. Within minutes, his parents were down, their bodies crumpled on the forest floor. The hunters left, satisfied, assuming they had taken down two rogue wolves.

When Levi finally climbed out of the lake, dripping wet and grinning, he stumbled upon the lifeless forms of his parents. Confused and terrified, his heart shattered. He couldn't comprehend what had happened. His cries echoed through the forest as he ran back to the pack house, desperate for help.

The Alpha-a powerful wolf with midnight-black fur-took him in, raising him as his own, treating Levi like a son. For two years, Levi lived under the protection of the Alpha, believing he had found a new family, a new beginning.

That illusion was shattered on his sixth birthday.

In their pack, the color of a wolf's pelt was everything. It was more than just appearance-it was a symbol of dominance and strength. The darker the fur, the stronger the wolf. The Alpha's coat was the darkest, a deep, inky black that marked him as the most powerful. The Beta's pelt was a dark charcoal gray, signifying his position just beneath the Alpha. The rest of the pack ranged from shades of dark gray to light, with the lighter wolves occupying lower ranks.

On the day of Levi's first shift, the entire pack gathered, eager to see what color his fur would be. The Alpha had high expectations. After all, Levi had been raised in the Alpha's home, treated like he was one of them. The Alpha expected a strong, dark wolf to emerge from the boy he had taken in.

But when the shift finally ended, a tiny, fragile white wolf stood in Levi's place.

Gasps filled the air as the pack stared in shock. White-the rarest and weakest color a wolf could have. It was a mark of fragility, of submission. A white wolf couldn't lead, couldn't fight, couldn't survive in a pack that valued strength above all else.

The Alpha's face hardened with disgust. In that moment, Levi's fate was sealed.

He was disowned, cast aside like trash. No longer the Alpha's adopted son, no longer anything but an omega. Stripped of his name and his dignity, Levi was reduced to nothing more than the pack's slave. From that day forward, no one called him by his name. To them, he was simply "Omega," a title that condemned him to a life of servitude, humiliation, and pain.

And no matter how much Levi longed to escape that fate, there was no running from it. He was theirs now, and he always would be.