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The Omega's  Bite Novel Cover

The Omega's Bite

Ayesha has always been called weak: an omega servant in the Forest Pack, born to a broken mother and no father. But she hides dangerous gifts—she shifted at ten, she can smell poison before it kills, and the wolf inside her is no ordinary beast. When her mother is murdered, Ayesha becomes the perfect scapegoat, framed for killing the Alpha heir. The Council orders her death. Fleeing for her life, she stumbles into a blood-soaked war beneath the city and bites the wrong man: Jeremiah Grant, a feared underground king, half Lycan and half monster, cursed to feel nothing—until her bite awakens the beast sleeping inside him. Now the Council wants her dead, Jeremiah wants answers, and Ayesha wants revenge.
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Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ayesha 🐺

Skipping through the woods with a basket full of herbs balanced against my hip, I couldn't stop smiling. The forest was beautiful this time of evening. Golden light slipped through the branches above me while the wind danced softly through the leaves, carrying the earthy scent of moss and pine across the trails I had walked my entire life. Small purple flowers peeked through patches of grass, and somewhere deeper in the woods, water rushed gently over rocks.

This was my favorite part of the day: just me with the trees and the small hope sitting warm inside my chest. I glanced down proudly at the basket swinging lightly from my arm. All kinds of herbs were in there: Lavender, Wild mint, Silverleaf, and Moonroot. If I found the right buyer in the lower market tomorrow, the herbs could keep my mother and me fed for at least two months, maybe longer if the winter stayed mild.

As long as they don't find out about my status in the pack, everything will be okay. Excitement bubbled inside me at the thought. I knew Mama would be so happy. Especially when she made her peach cobbler tonight, the thought alone nearly made me walk faster.

I could already picture her standing near the stove in her faded yellow dress, quietly humming one of her old songs while flour dusted her hands. She always hummed while cooking. It didn't matter if she was sad or was being treated with cruelty; she would hum away like everything was okay. Even when my father, her mate, rejected her years ago and left her carrying me alone, she hummed through the heartbreak.

Whatever it was, she always managed to have a smile on her face and music on her lips; she would ignore the pack members whispering behind our backs and hum while hanging laundry. Through sickness, she still hummed softly under her breath while braiding my hair. Mama said silence gave pain too much room to grow, so she filled the silence instead.

I smiled to myself as I stepped over fallen branches."You better not burn the crust this time," I muttered playfully to the empty woods.

The wind brushed my curls away from my face gently, and for a little while, I let myself pretend life wasn't hard. That I wasn't an omega girl people avoided, mothers didn't pull their children away from me, or that packmales didn't look at my mother with pity and disgust mixed. For a little while, I was just a daughter bringing home herbs to her mother.

With a happy and hopeful smile. 

Then the forest became quiet; my steps slowed slightly. There were no birds, no rustling, no distant humming drifting through the trees from our cabin. The big smile faded slowly because something wasn't right. Usually, I could hear Mama before I even reached the clearing. She hummed loudly while cooking, especially when she baked.

I stopped and listened harder, and there was nothing. A weird feeling curled low in my stomach. The closer I got to the cabin, the worse it became. I didn't smell peaches or cinnamon, nor any smoke from the chimney. No sweet warmth drifted through the evening air; instead, it smelled wrong and cold. My grip tightened around the basket."Mama?" I whisper. 

There was no answer, the trees thinned as I reached the clearing, and I stopped dead when I saw the pack members standing outside our cabin. There's never been that many around our cabin, not since everyone labeled us as omegas. Some whispered among themselves, while others just stared. A few shook their heads before quickly looking away when they noticed me standing there.

Fear slid sharply down my spine, no, no, no, nothing can't happen to mama, not mama, I thought as the basket slipped slightly from my fingers as I took a step forward, forcing my feet to move forward as my heartbeat was painfully loud. "Mama?" I said it again, but there was still nothing. When I finally made it to the front, I saw the cabin door open, and behind the crowd, in the middle of the room, Mama was lying motionless. 

NO! MAMA!" The scream ripped out of me so violently my throat burned. My knees slammed against the wooden floor near the doorway, pain shooting through them, but I barely felt it. All I could see was her

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