Omega to Lycan Princess

I woke to the sterile smell of the healing den, my body a constellation of pain. Three days had passed since the alliance trial, most of which I'd spent drifting between consciousness and darkness. The pack healer, Elara, had finally declared me stable enough to return to my quarters, though she'd insisted I remain on bed rest.

"You should have died out there," she'd muttered, her ancient hands gentle despite her harsh words. "I've never seen an Omega survive such a beating."

I'd smiled through cracked lips. "I couldn't let Ryan down."

Elara's silence had spoken volumes.

Now, leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch, I limped from the healing den toward the Beta quarters I shared with Ryan. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scents of pine and morning dew. My wolf stirred within me, unusually alert despite our weakened state.

*Something's wrong*, she whispered.

I paused near the training grounds, the site of my sacrifice. The dirt had been raked clean of my blood, but something else lingered—a scent that made my wolf whimper in distress.

Ryan. And... someone else. Female. Floral.

I inhaled deeper, wincing as my broken ribs protested. The scents were intertwined, intimate in a way that twisted my gut. Beneath the pine and earth, there was unmistakable evidence of shared time, shared space.

Shared touch.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "He wouldn't."

My wolf growled, unconvinced. She'd always been more perceptive than me, less willing to make excuses for Ryan's behavior.

I forced myself to continue toward our quarters, each step heavier than the last. Ryan wasn't there—hadn't been there once during my recovery, according to Elara. I told myself he was busy with alliance negotiations, that his absence was necessary for his future... for our future.

The lie tasted bitter, even to myself.

---

I didn't sleep that night. The scents from the training ground haunted me, mingling with fragments of memory: Stephanie's delicate features, the strange unease I'd felt at her presence, the burning pain of her inexpert treatment.

By morning, I was feverish with doubt and the lingering effects of my injuries. I dragged myself to the pack house kitchen, desperate for water and something to quiet the growling in my stomach.

Two Beta females stood by the coffee pot, their heads bent together in hushed conversation. They fell silent when I entered, exchanging glances laden with meaning.

"Good morning," I offered, my voice raspy from disuse.

"Morning, Omega," the taller one replied, her tone falsely bright. "Feeling better?"

"Getting there," I lied, reaching past them for a glass.

As I filled it with water, their whispered conversation resumed, just loud enough for my enhanced hearing to catch fragments:

"...in the Silvermoon mountains all weekend..."

"...Ryan and that Chen girl..."

"...mate bond, can you believe it? Poor Mia has no idea..."

The glass slipped from my fingers, shattering on the floor. Water splashed my bare feet, mingling with drops of blood from where a shard had nicked my skin.

"Sorry," I mumbled, kneeling to clean the mess despite the screaming protest from my injuries.

"Leave it," the shorter Beta said, her eyes now filled with unmistakable pity. "You should rest."

I fled, their pitying gazes burning into my back.

Mate bond. Ryan and Stephanie. The Silvermoon mountains.

Each thought was a knife twisting deeper.

---

That night, I waited until the pack house fell silent. My wolf paced restlessly within me, demanding answers, demanding truth. For once, we were in perfect agreement.

I slipped from our quarters—still empty, still missing Ryan—and made my way to the Beta building. The mind-link recorder I'd stolen from Alpha Marcus's office felt heavy in my pocket. Such devices were typically used for pack meetings and official declarations, but tonight it would serve a different purpose.

I positioned myself beneath the open window of Ryan's office, activating the recorder with trembling fingers. Voices drifted down, unmistakable in their intimacy.

"You should have seen her face when I left her in the healing den," Ryan's voice, laced with cruel amusement. "Eight years of devotion, and she still believes I'll make her my Luna."

Stephanie's musical laugh followed. "And the way she fought in that trial! All that pain, all that blood—for you. It's almost sad."

"Necessary sacrifice," Ryan replied dismissively. "Her performance impressed Silvermoon enough to secure the alliance. That's all that matters."

"And now?" Stephanie's voice turned sultry. "Now that you've found your true mate?"

"Now I keep her around until the Alpha ceremony. She's useful—devoted. Once I'm Alpha, I'll reject her properly and claim you as my Luna."

"She'll be devastated."

"She'll survive. Omegas always do—they're like cockroaches."

Their laughter mingled as I stood frozen beneath the window, the recorder capturing every word, every betrayal. My wolf howled in anguish within me, but outwardly, I remained still as stone.

Eight years. Eight years of love and sacrifice and dreams, reduced to a cruel joke between lovers.

As I slipped away into the darkness, something cold and hard crystallized in my chest where my heart had been. Ryan had made his choice.

Now I would make mine.