My Alpha Called Me Omega Until the Lycan Claimed Me

The Omega quarters smelled like mildew and despair.

I dragged my single bag through the narrow hallway, past rooms where other low-ranked wolves lived in cramped spaces with peeling paint and drafty windows. My new room was at the end—barely large enough for a twin bed and a rickety dresser. Water stains bloomed across the ceiling like bruises.

Three years in the Alpha's suite, and this was where I belonged all along.

I set my bag down and immediately heard the whispers start. Through the thin walls, voices carried.

"Can you believe she actually thought she was special?"

"Sleeping in the Alpha's bed like some kind of Luna."

"Bet she's heartbroken now that the real mate's back."

Laughter. Cruel and sharp.

I pressed my palm against the cold wall and closed my eyes. Let them talk. I'd survived worse.

Two days passed in a blur of kitchen shifts and avoiding eye contact. The pack house buzzed with excitement over Bella's return—the miracle mate, back from the dead. I scrubbed pots until my hands cracked and bled, kept my head down, tried to become invisible.

Then she came to visit.

I was folding my spare uniform when the door opened without a knock. Bella stood in the doorway, backlit by the hallway light, looking like something out of a fairy tale in a cream-colored dress that probably cost more than I'd earn in a year.

"Norah." Her voice was honey-sweet. "I wanted to see where you'd ended up."

I straightened slowly. "Luna."

"Oh, not yet." She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. The room shrank around her presence. "But soon. Very soon."

She circled the tiny space, trailing one perfect finger along the dresser, leaving a line in the dust. When she turned back to me, her smile had teeth.

"You smell like him," she said softly. "Too much like him. It's... concerning."

My throat went dry. "The contract—"

"Is over." She moved closer, and I caught her scent—jasmine and roses, the same perfume I'd worn for three years. But on her, it was natural. Real. "I'm back now. Xander doesn't need a cheap substitute anymore."

Each word was a calculated strike.

"I understand," I whispered.

"Do you?" She tilted her head, studying me like I was something unpleasant she'd found on her shoe. "Because I've noticed the way his wolf still searches for something during training. The way he gets... distracted. And I can't help but wonder if you've been doing more than just wearing perfume."

"I haven't—"

"Stay invisible, Norah." Her voice dropped to a whisper that somehow felt louder than a shout. "Stay in your little room. Do your kitchen work. And if I catch even a hint of you trying to get his attention..." She leaned in close enough that I could see the cold calculation in her eyes. "Well. Accidents happen to Omegas all the time. Especially ones without protection."

She left as silently as she'd come, and I sank onto the bed, my legs suddenly unable to hold me.

The next morning, Dr. Ramos found me in the kitchen.

His face was gray. Drawn.

"Norah, I—" He glanced around at the other kitchen workers, then lowered his voice. "I need to speak with you. About Cal."

The world tilted.

We stepped into the hallway, and he couldn't meet my eyes. "The Alpha has ordered us to discontinue the elite treatments. He says the pack's resources are too strained to support... charity cases."

Charity cases.

Cal. My brother. Dying.

"No." The word came out broken. "No, there has to be—I'll work more shifts. I'll do anything. Please."

"I'm sorry." Dr. Ramos's voice was thick with regret. "The order came from the Alpha himself. There's nothing I can do."

I ran.

Through the pack house, up the stairs to the Alpha's office. I didn't care about protocol. Didn't care about staying invisible. Cal was dying.

I burst through the door without knocking.

Xander sat behind his massive desk, and Bella was draped across his lap like a cat, her arms around his neck. They both turned to stare at me.

"Alpha, please." I fell to my knees, my pride shattering on the hardwood floor. "Please don't stop Cal's treatment. I'll do anything. Double shifts. Triple. I'll—"

"Norah." Xander's voice was ice. "You're interrupting."

"My brother is dying."

"Your brother is not my responsibility." He stroked Bella's hair absently, his attention already drifting back to her. "The contract is fulfilled. You're no longer under my protection, which means your family matters are your own."

"But the treatments—"

"Are expensive and reserved for pack members who contribute value." His gray eyes were empty of anything resembling compassion. "Your brother is weak. Wolfless. The pack can't afford to waste resources on lost causes."

Lost causes.

Bella smiled at me over Xander's shoulder. Triumphant.

"Please," I whispered. "I'm begging you."

"Then beg someone else." Xander turned his chair, dismissing me with his back. "Close the door on your way out."

I stood on shaking legs. Stumbled toward the door. The hallway stretched endlessly before me, the walls pressing in, the air too thin.

Cal. Cal was going to die.

Because of me. Because I wasn't worth protecting anymore.

The floor rushed up to meet me, and the last thing I heard was someone shouting my name from very far away.