When Alpha Created Omega

Orders -2

A Few Weeks Later - Summer

I’ve been in such a rut lately. It’s not until I overhear some of the pack's female members gushing in the eating area about tonight’s celebration that I realize what today actually is.

Cass’s birthday.

And I didn’t make him anything or buy him a gift. Even though we’re traditional wolves, we still keep up with the times. We have a few trucks and black SUVs parked at the base of each corner of the mountain.

Being raised here gives us certain advantages—like leaping off cliffs like fearless billy goats and easily accessing a vehicle whenever needed.

Today, I might just be a billy goat, I chuckle to myself. I’m really hungry, though. I’ll grab a quick bite and then head to the nearest town to find Cass a present. Even if it’s just a gift, it has to be special. If I don’t eat, I might get dizzy and miss the perfect one while I’m out looking.

I enter the eating circle—a huge camp-like space centered around a large pile of fresh deer meat. Outside the circle, picnic tables overflow with fruits for the pickier eaters. The females, who had been so excitedly discussing their gifts for my brother, suddenly fall silent at my presence.

I feel them shrink into themselves, bowing their heads toward their plates. The weight of an Alpha’s presence does that.

Did I ever mention I prefer to be in my wolf form most of the time? Something about it gives me an extra shot of confidence—standing tall at 7’1", letting my massive shadow loom over everyone.

They call it gloating; I call it the natural order of things. When an Alpha enters a room, respect follows.

I won’t deny that I enjoy imposing my presence. Sometimes, I just can’t help it. And I know they hate it even more, knowing I’m just as female as they are—but they will never be as strong as me.

Lazily dragging my claws against the earth, I make my way toward the meat pile. It’s still early, and soon the hum of mingling voices and moving bodies will fill the space. The children will gather at the tables, waiting for their mothers to fill their plates.

My nose catches the scent of a prime chunk of meat perched atop the pile. I bet I can not only snatch it mid-air but also clear the entire stack in one leap.

I take a few steps back, gaining the attention of the brainless girls who fawn over my brother. Their stares make it impossible to resist taunting them.

With my tail swinging low, I burst forward, leaping several feet into the air. My jaws snap around the chunk of meat, and I land effortlessly on the other side of the pile.

I can’t see the girls anymore, but I hear their muttered complaints as they scurry away. The scent of their fear lingers in the air, and I smile inwardly. I know exactly what they saw—my full body extended, claws and fangs bared, unashamed as I pushed out my Alpha scent.

“Wow, you really couldn’t help being an ass, could you?”

The deep baritone of my father—my Alpha—sinks into my bones.

I don’t need to see him to picture the angry scowl on his face, his neatly trimmed red curls, and those piercing blue eyes—eyes that always remind me of hardened gems, filled with constant annoyance toward me.

Tension thickens in the air, but before anything else can be said, pack members begin piling into the circle. Children’s cranky whines mix with the chatter, creating a familiar chaos.

I avoid looking at my father. I don’t want to see those eyes that mirror mine, silently demanding submission. I hate submitting even more than I hate being chastised for showing off.

I am my father’s twin in many ways—not just in looks but in my unrelenting need for dominance. I turn away, knowing he can’t see me through the heap of meat. With the growing crowd, it would be easy to slip away unnoticed.

Just as I start plotting my escape, his voice echoes through the clearing, stopping me cold.

“Everyone, take a seat. I have a few things to announce this morning, and we don’t have all day. I’ll be leaving with a few others by noon.”

My body stiffens. I turn to see him standing at the trail’s entrance, his commanding presence impossible to ignore.

I really hope no neighboring pack has lost an Alpha—or worse, declared war. No one wants a war when so many of our women are pregnant.

I give my father my full attention, taking in his towering stature. He must be at least 7’5", built like a fortress. The resemblance between us is uncanny—same full lips, same sharp features.

Then, he says something that sends a chill through my veins.

“Cass has found his mate and will be taking over temporarily while Iven and I travel to a mating gathering near the capital. We’ll be leaving by noon. From that point on, all matters will go through Cass in my absence.”

Silence.

My heart stumbles. My breath catches.

A mating gathering.

Is he actually this desperate to pawn me off to some wolf who thinks it’s acceptable to live in a box?

I don’t want a mate who’s brainwashed into thinking we belong in houses, locked away from nature. It kills me because my father knows this—knows I only respect traditional wolves. The non-traditionals treat their omegas like slaves. In their world, if you’re born an omega, your only hope is to find a mate before adulthood—or starve.

No one in my pack starves. Pack is family. Family comes before anything.

But non-traditionals? They exploit their lower ranks. They strip away dignity.

I try to mind-link my father through our pack’s connection, flooding it with my disgust—but he’s already blocked me out.

I know when to back down, but I never surrender.

I just have to have faith that none of those bastards will be my mate.

And yet... a sliver of hope lingers.

I need a mate so I can take my rightful place in this world.