When Alpha Created Omega

One little Step

Iven - POV

We didn’t march back like warriors—no, we drifted like phantoms.

The coven’s loyalty runs deeper than any bond I’ve ever known. They don’t love me, not like packmates love their Alpha, but they respect me. Fear me. Trust me. And for now, that’s enough.

Vio walks beside me, silent as always, her veil fluttering like a ghost’s breath in the wind. I catch her watching me sometimes, like she’s still studying the curves of my fate, looking for cracks she can slip into. But we made the pact. She showed me the future, and I accepted it.

I asked for strength. She gave me purpose.

The estate looms up ahead like a scar across the land, Theo’s perfect legacy stained by the blood I spilled. It's funny how quickly power changes hands when the right heart stops beating—or when the wrong one refuses to.

The witches know not to interfere now. The dead stay down. The barriers hold. All that’s left is to confront what waits inside.

Theo.

I can feel his bond thread snapping tighter, like a wire around my throat. He feels me approaching. That tension—emotional, spiritual—is a warning. One last chance to back off.

But I won’t.

I didn’t become this monster to turn around now.

I pause at the edge of the estate’s wards, mud caked on my boots, blood dried across my arms like war paint. The air is thick with magic and mourning. The ghosts of this place hum softly in my ear, whispering names I no longer have time to grieve.

Vio stops beside me, eyes hidden, but her voice clear.

“You ready, Alpha?”

I nod once. “He’s either going to kneel... or bleed.”