From Omega to Lycan Princess

I limped back to my small Omega quarters, each step sending fresh waves of pain through my sliced arms and legs. The cuts weren't deep enough to need a healer, but they were numerous—a map of betrayal etched into my skin.

My hands trembled as I unlocked the door to my tiny room. It wasn't much—just a bed, a desk, and a small bathroom—but it was mine. Or at least, it was the space the pack had allocated to me, the lowly Omega who'd somehow gotten lucky enough to be mates with their future Alpha.

I dropped my ruined dress into the trash, wincing as blood smeared across the fabric. In the bathroom mirror, I barely recognized myself. Tears had streaked my makeup, and tiny shards of glass glittered in some of the cuts.

"Why didn't he come for me?" I whispered to my reflection, touching a particularly deep cut on my forearm.

The first aid kit was under the sink—basic supplies that Omegas were expected to use for minor injuries. No one would waste healer resources on us for something as trivial as falling through glass.

I cleaned each cut carefully, biting my lip against the sting of antiseptic. Blood welled up again immediately from some of the deeper wounds.

"He's my mate," I said, more to convince myself than anything else. "The Moon Goddess chose us for each other."

My fingers found the silver ring on my finger—my only treasure, my only connection to a past I barely remembered. I touched it gently, feeling the intricate engravings against my skin.

"Where did you come from?" I asked the ring, as I had countless times before. It was the only thing I had from before I came to the Silverfang Pack, the only remnant of a life I couldn't quite recall.

Tears streamed down my face as I bandaged my wounds. Not just from physical pain—from the agony of watching my mate choose another woman while I bled on the floor.

A knock at the door startled me two hours later.

"Lexi?" Cristian's voice, deep and commanding, filtered through the wood.

I froze, a bandage halfway around my wrist. "Come in," I called, my voice smaller than I intended.

He opened the door, filling the frame with his tall, imposing figure. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his eyes taking in my bandaged arms with a flicker of something—regret? Concern?

"You should have come to find me," he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "These cuts could have been treated properly."

"I didn't want to bother you," I replied, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. "You seemed... occupied."

His jaw tightened, but he moved closer, gently taking my wrist to examine the bandages. "I'm sorry about tonight," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Things got out of hand."

"Sasha got out of hand," I corrected, pulling my wrist away.

Cristian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's just... she gets nervous around you sometimes. She doesn't understand our bond."

"Our bond?" I echoed incredulously. "You ignored our bond for two years, Cristian."

"Let me make it up to you," he said, suddenly taking both my hands in his. His eyes—those beautiful eyes that had captivated me from the first moment—were earnest now. "The mate ceremony preparations start tomorrow. Come with me."

My heart stuttered. "You want us to attend together? Like... like proper mates?"

"Of course," he smiled, and for a moment, everything felt right again. "We're mates, Lexi. It's time we started acting like it."

Hope bloomed in my chest, painful and fragile. "Tomorrow then," I whispered.

"I'll pick you up at noon," he promised, pressing a kiss to my forehead before leaving.

That night, I barely slept. I washed my hair, chose my best dress—a simple white sundress that Elena had helped me pick out—and polished my shoes until they gleamed.

At eleven-thirty, I was ready, standing before the mirror with my heart pounding. The bandages were hidden beneath long sleeves, but I could still feel the pull of healing skin with every movement.

Noon came and went.

Twelve-thirty.

One o'clock.

I stood at the pack ceremony grounds, checking my watch repeatedly, smoothing my dress, and looking toward the path that would bring Cristian to me.

Other pack members passed by, some slowing to stare.

"That's the Omega," I heard someone whisper. "Cristian's mate."

"She's waiting for him," another replied with a snicker. "Poor thing doesn't know better."

By two o'clock, the sun was high overhead, beating down on my exposed skin. My carefully styled hair had begun to frizz in the humidity.

And still, I waited.

Two hours passed with no sign of Cristian. No message. No explanation.

Just me, alone at the ceremony grounds, with whispers following me like shadows as I finally turned to walk away.