The Archer: Lost Omegas Book 1

Control

CYRENE

Cyrene's heart was again trapped in the bleak place that exists between victory and defeat. Watching Galena walk away with King Laran had been one of the most difficult things she had ever done. The sacrifice of one woman allowed near one hundred their freedom.

Temporary freedom. They are yet stalked by three hundred warriors.

Frowning at the thought, she turned to the three hundred Lobo warriors at the rear of the Raposo caravan. Taller than any of her soldiers and each heavily muscled with weapons strapped to any available body surface, they were an imposing sight. Each filled with hope they would be able to find their fated mate in Raposo lands. A few short weeks ago this would have caused her laugh at the absurdity- the fearsome Warriors of the Wolf God going on some quest to find a single omega, that was somehow destined to be with them? Ridiculous.

But Cyrene had lived it. Felt the irresistible draw, a connection, the moment Deimos first touched her. There was no denying that something preternatural had taken hold of her spirit and mind. Even the Fox God blessed their paring.

Galena would never believe that fate guided their paths. The woman was not a religious sort, believing only that which she could touch and feel. Even after seeing the Berserker overtake Deimos' mind and body, Galena refused to believe in things such as destiny and fate. Cyrene knew better. The Gods were real, their wills' infallible.

Leaving Galena with King Laran was difficult, but she had to place her faith in hope. Hope that Galena would find her happiness, and help the other omegas do the same.

The ways of the Raposo were changing. The Fox God was weakening, his people starving. The prayers and sacrifices of the Raposo were not enough. Cyrene could not stop the winds of fate sweeping over her lands. The Lobo would forever be tied to the Raposo now; her mate was proof of this connection. Yet with all this change, her people were still starving, the drought unwavering despite the sacrifices of priestess. Trade with the Lobo would take time, hopefully her people still had enough.

The soldier in her rebuked at her own helplessness. Settling down to wait, well, every archer knew patience. Waiting to make that perfect shot, at juat the right moment. But helplessness? It soured her stomach. The survival of the Raposo was now dependent on an alliance with a people unlike her own. There would never be independence from the Northern tribe. A fact that King Laran would now use to his full advantage. The 300 warriors following them home was evidence of this, and Cyrene knew there would be more. Now that the Lobo knew there was an abundance of omegas in the South Lands, the stream would be unending.

She understood why King Brone made the decisions he did, she still loathed the man and his choices, but she understood what had driven him to such desperation. But he was a fool to think that the Lobo would not demand more and more omegas over time. At least now, they had choice. Safety to refuse. And her people would survive another winter.

Survival required sacrifice. King Brone had been willing to sacrifice much to secure it. Selling Raposo omegas to the Lobo to secure use of the Pack would have made the women no better than slaves. There would be no returning from that path of dishonor and pain. Cyrene knew little of the other Gods, but the Fox God valued honor above all, death would be preferred over disgrace.

But was what had she accomplished much different? She had just left seventy-six women, including her closest friend, to their fates with the Lobo. Not one of those women were provided a choice.

And now there were whispers among the Skulk, the Lobo warriors were strong because they were unhindered as alphas and able to claim an omega mate. Their blood lines had not been diluted with mixed Beta offspring. The Skulk soldiers were questioning their ways. Was this truly the way to secure a strong tribe? Many thought not.