His Hidden Omega Walked Away

Every instinct beneath my skin screamed at me to leave. To get out of that den immediately, before things escalated further. But before I could even take a step back, Aurelia moved.

Fast.

She snatched the cup of moon-tea straight out of my hands.

Before I could react, she tilted it and poured it over her own head.

The liquid splashed down her hair, soaking through the strands and dripping over her face, her neck, her blouse. It wasn't hot anymore, the tea long gone cold, but that didn't matter. The effect was exactly what she wanted.

Then, without hesitation, she slammed the ceramic cup onto the ground.

Right at my feet.

It shattered instantly.

The sharp crack echoed through the room as fragments of porcelain exploded outward. Several pieces skidded across the floor, a few slicing lightly into my ankles.

A sharp sting followed, but I barely registered it.

Aurelia stood there, drenched, her hair clinging to her face in messy strands, her blouse soaked and sticking to her skin. Beneath the spilled tea I could still catch her scent, jasmine over cold copper, sharp with the citrus edge of a wolf playing a long game. She looked utterly disheveled.

Pitiful.

Humiliated.

Perfect.

This female wasn't just ruthless. She was terrifying.

Before I could move past her, she stepped forward, blocking my path completely.

And then she screamed.

"Selene! What are you doing?! Why would you hurt me like this?!"

Her voice was high, shrill, and filled with raw, trembling emotion.

It carried. Through the front of the den, past the half-open doors where Bloodmoor wolves nursed their morning brews, into the back rooms where guard-wolves and runners kept their heads down and their ears pricked. Within seconds, the whole outer den began to stir. Doors opened. Chairs scraped. Wolves rushed in from every direction, drawn by the commotion, noses lifting to read the air.

But Aurelia wasn't done.

Not even close.

She picked up her coffee, her hand trembling just enough to make it look real, and splashed it across her own chest.

The dark liquid spread quickly across the fabric, staining it unevenly.

Then, just like the night before, she lifted her hand to her neck and began scratching. Hard.

Red marks bloomed instantly across her skin, raw and irritated, as if someone had grabbed her violently.

I stood there, watching.

Something inside me finally snapped. Deep beneath my ribs, my wolf surged up snarling, hackles rising at the lie laid out in plain sight.

Enough.

Before I could think it through, before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and slapped her.

Hard.

The sound rang out, sharp and clear.

Everything went silent. The kind of silence that only falls in a place run by wolves who understand violence. The kind where nobody breathes until they know whose side to take.

And that was the exact moment Salveth walked in.

He saw everything.

Or at least, what it looked like.

Me, standing there, upright, composed.

And Aurelia, soaked, disheveled, trembling, like a fragile creature that had just been attacked.

There wasn't even a second of hesitation.

His hand came down across my face.

The force sent my head jerking to the side, a sharp sting blooming across my cheek. His Alpha aura crashed down with it, thick and cold, pressing every wolf in the room toward the floor.

"Selene!" he snapped, his voice cold with anger, the obsidian and cold ash of his scent sharpening to a blade. "If you don't want to be here anymore, then get the hell out."

He didn't wait for a response.

Still visibly furious, he shoved me aside, his shoulder hitting mine hard enough to make me lose my balance. Then, without another glance in my direction, he bent down, scooped Aurelia up into his arms.

A perfect bridal carry.

Like an Alpha rescuing someone who needed saving.

And carried her straight into his inner den. The heavy door slammed shut behind them, and the silver lighter he'd left on the edge of his desk didn't so much as rattle. It just sat there, still.

I staggered back from the force of his shove, my body colliding with the edge of a nearby desk. Pain shot up my spine instantly, sharp and blinding. My vision blurred for a second as tears welled up in my eyes.

But I didn't cry.

I just stood there. Inside me, my wolf had gone quiet, a low keening folding in on itself until there was nothing left but silence.

The overseer of the front operation, who had been hesitating over my severance papers just minutes ago, now stepped forward without a word. His expression had changed completely.

He picked up the document.

Signed it.

Stamped it.

Approved.

No questions asked. No delay.

Salveth didn't even come out. He didn't look at the form. Didn't ask anything. Someone brought it into his inner den, and while he was busy comforting Aurelia, he scribbled his signature across the page without even glancing at it.

Then tossed it aside like it meant nothing.

Like I meant nothing.

The treasury wolves moved quickly after that.

Too quickly.

Always eager to stay on the good side of whoever held power in the pack's front operation, they rushed to process my final pay in moon-credits, efficiency driven not by duty but by their desire to please the Alpha's favorite.

I still had work to finish. A stack of client materials from the den-trade accounts that needed to be handed over properly. So I sat down, sorted everything, organized the files carefully, and prepared to send them to Salveth.

But the moment I tried to open my access, denied.

I tried again.

Nothing.

My credentials had already been struck from the pack's records. Completely wiped.

There was only one wolf who had the authority to do that.

Salveth.

I paused for a second, staring at the crystal screen.

Then I pulled out my communicator.

I sent him a message.

No response.

I called.

The call didn't even go through.

Blocked.

The mind-link channel.

Severed.

Everything. Every possible way of reaching him, gone.

I stood there for a moment, completely still.

Stunned.

But only for a moment.

Then I exhaled slowly.

I smoothed the edge of my skirt until the crease was sharper than anything I could bring myself to say.

Picked up my bag. Packed the last of my things. Cleared every trace of myself from what I could still touch in the system.

And walked out.

No hesitation.

No looking back.

Past the wolves who wouldn't meet my eyes. Past the corridor where a guard-wolf held the door open for me with the careful neutrality of one who had already chosen whose name to forget. Past the front entrance of the Bloodmoor trading-post, where the awning cast its shadow over the path like a territory line drawn in the dirt.

I didn't go home.

I went straight to the airfield.