The Archer: Lost Omegas Book 1

Named

CYRENE

She stood among hundreds in front of a clay and stone house on the outskirts of Siwili. The sun had just started to peak over the horizon, the endless dry grass plains turning a burnt orange with its light. Dawn was supposed to be a beautiful time of day, but it only reminded Cyrene of the constant drought of her land. The drought that had started the wars with the Serpe and led to decades of hate between their tribes. The priestesses had tried every rain dance and ritual they knew, but the sky remained unburdened by clouds, and the Fox God withheld his blessing of rain.

Many suspected the priestesses had lost much of their power. The alphas over the last few decades had been weaker as well, most with the same build and strength as the betas. Some suspected it was the mixing of the dynamics and the lack of bonds among their people. Bonds were exceptionally rare in Raposo, as a bite from an alpha would be fatal to a beta. Rue kept the omega nature suppressed and hidden. A Raposo alpha could not scent the difference between a beta and an omega, and few omegas chose to reveal their dynamic, not even to their paired mate.

Cyrene had always thought Rue was a blessing to all omegas, keeping them away from the subjugation of alphas. That by hiding their nature, they would be safer. Suppressing the natural omega urge for submission would make them stronger. Thinking back over the past few days, she questioned her beliefs. She had been free from the rue's suppression since the pairing ceremony, and she had felt stronger than ever. She had withstood the Quitar, a broken bond, a challenge to the death, and held a Berserker inside her body. Had they been mistaken about suppressing their omega nature?

'But omegas started taking rue for a reason. They were oppressed, subjugated to their alpha, barren from their unhappiness,' her mind argued back.

She looked at Deimos standing next to her, staring sightlessly ahead. Submission did not have to mean subjugation. When she submitted to Deimos and the Berserker last night, and she had not felt weak. Strength had poured into her from the bond. Though she was the one submitting, she knew he needed her desperately, like air in his lungs, and she had reveled in that knowledge. Her submission to his dominance had strengthened them both. The slight buzz of power still pulsed beneath her skin.

When Deimos first met her, he had scented her as omega despite the rue. All Lobo alphas were able to scent the suppressed omegas in the villages. But they had selected specific ones. Deimos had said they needed to have compatible spirits, whatever that meant. The Lobo alphas were stronger and faster than any Raposo alpha. The largest Skulk alpha would never stand a chance agaisnt even one of the smaller Pack alphas in a hand-to-hand challenge. Deimos had said repeatedly that a Lobo alpha only mated with his fated omega, and he would always bond with his mate. They never mated betas. This practice had produced these warrior alphas, was it coincidence or something else?

Deimos turned to face her, sensing her gaze, his eyes looking just above her head, "what troubles you, mate?

"Nothing I'm prepared to discuss at the moment. I am merely thinking. I have much to do with the new King." Cyrene silenced immediately as a small, hunched woman exited the small house. The priestess was old; her tan skin wrinkled and hung loosely on thin, frail limbs, but her voice was strong and loud.

"Cyrene of the Skulk, the Archer! You have been named! The Fox God has chosen you to rule his tribe!" The woman lifted a fox pelt in front of her, motioning Cyrene to come forward.

The words caused her heart to drop into her stomach, the Berserker had been right. The Priestesses had named her Queen of the Raposo, a title she did not want. Ruling was a heavy burden, one she would never be free from until her death or a successor chosen. She knew little of ruling a tribe, she barely managed to lead the archers some days. How was she to rule an entire tribe? There had always been a king chosen- never a woman. Never an omega. She had as much faith as the next soldier, but what was the Fox God expecting from her?