The Wolf King’s Omega
By Midnight Sparkles
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The man stepped closer until the moonlight caught his face.
He was tall, lean, and scarred across the jaw. His eyes glowed silver, brighter than the moon above them. The mark on his neck pulsed in rhythm with hers, alive, burning faintly through his skin.
Lyra gripped her dagger tighter. “Who are you?”
The man gave a faint smile. “I should be the one asking that. You carry the same mark as me.”
Her heart pounded. “That’s impossible. The mark is part of the Moon Bond.”
He nodded slowly. “It is. But not all bonds come from love. Some come from blood. From vengeance.”
Lyra’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”
He looked at her carefully, his tone shifting. “You were part of the Vale Pack, weren’t you? The one the Alpha destroyed.”
Her chest tightened. “Yes.”
His eyes softened. “Then we share the same past. I was part of the Crescent Line, the allied pack your people were meant to join before the slaughter. When Kael’s army came for you, they came for us too. Only a few of us survived.”
Lyra stared at him, speechless. “So you’re saying… you’re bonded to me because…”
“Because the Moon Goddess marked us both,” he interrupted quietly. “Two survivors from fallen packs, two remnants of bloodlines that should have died together. Our marks mean more than you think.”
Lyra shook her head, stepping back. “No, I already have a bond. With Kael.”
The man’s voice hardened. “That bond is a curse, not love. You feel it pulling you, don’t you? The pain, the confusion. That’s not affection, Lyra. That’s control. The mark was never meant to join you. It was meant to break you.”
Lyra’s fingers trembled around her dagger. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” His silver eyes flickered. “Why do you think the bond burns when you resist him? Why do you think you remember the night he killed your family every time you get close to him?”
She didn’t answer. Her breathing turned shallow, her mark flaring hotter against her skin.
He took a slow step forward. “The power inside you was never meant for him. It’s yours. You just don’t know how to use it yet.”
The air around them shifted suddenly, a cold wind whipping through the trees. Lyra gasped, clutching her neck as her mark began to glow, spreading faint light through her veins.
“What’s happening to me?” she whispered.
The man’s expression changed from calm to alarm. “The moon is full tonight. You can’t fight it. The Moonline is waking in you.”
Lyra fell to her knees, her heart pounding wildly. The pain was unbearable. Her bones ached, her body shuddered, and heat coursed through her like fire.
“I can’t—” she gasped, gripping the dirt beneath her.
“Don’t fight it,” the man said urgently. “Let it happen.”
She screamed as the pain tore through her again, her fingers digging into the ground. Her vision blurred, the world twisting, spinning. Her nails lengthened into claws, her heartbeat slowed then raced again, and fur began to shimmer across her skin.
The man stepped back as her body changed before his eyes, her cries mixing with the roar of the wind. Her bones snapped and reformed, her limbs stretched, her eyes glowed bright gold.
Then everything went still.
When Lyra stood, she was no longer human. Her wolf form was massive, her fur white as snow with streaks of silver running along her back. Power radiated from her like heat from fire.
The man stared in awe. “The Moonline Wolf,” he whispered. “The last of your kind.”
Lyra looked down at her paws, then up at the glowing moon. She could feel everything, the forest, the pull of the bond, the pulse of power in her blood. It wasn’t just energy. It was freedom.
But then another pull hit her, stronger, heavier, from the direction of the castle. The mark burned again, harder than before.
Miles away, Kael woke with a jolt. His mark throbbed so violently that it felt like it was tearing through his chest. He stumbled out of bed, grabbing his shirt, his vision spinning.
“Lyra,” he breathed.
Ronan, sleeping in the adjoining room, rushed in when he heard the crash. “What’s wrong?”
Kael was already heading for the door. “She’s outside the walls.”
“What?”
“I can feel her,” Kael said, his voice low. “The bond, something’s happening to her.”
He ran down the hall, ignoring the servants who called after him. The moon outside was unnaturally bright, painting the forest in silver light.
Kael reached the courtyard and shifted before the guards could react, his body exploding into his black wolf form. He sprinted toward the forest, his paws pounding against the ground. The pull grew stronger, guiding him deeper into the trees.
Somewhere ahead, he could feel her. Her scent, her heartbeat, her fear.
He pushed faster through the undergrowth until the trees opened into a clearing, and he stopped dead.
In the center stood a great white wolf, glowing faintly beneath the moonlight. Power rippled through the air like thunder.
Kael froze. He knew those eyes.
It was Lyra.
But before he could take a step forward, another figure moved from the shadows, the man with the silver eyes, his mark burning just like theirs.
Kael’s growl echoed through the night. The air between them tightened, full of threat and fury.
Lyra stood between them, golden eyes blazing, her voice rumbling low and fierce.
“Stop,” she said.
But neither of them moved.
The forest was silent except for the whisper of wind through the trees.
Kael stood in his black wolf form, tall and tense, his golden eyes fixed on the stranger across the clearing. The man didn’t move, his calm gaze shifting between Kael and Lyra.
Lyra’s white wolf form glowed faintly in the moonlight. She stood between them, her breathing uneven, her claws digging into the dirt.
The stranger raised a hand slowly. “You’ve both been living a lie,” he said. His voice carried through the forest. “Do you even know what binds you?”
Lyra’s growl deepened. Kael took a step forward, his tail flicking in warning.
“Who are you?” Kael demanded, his voice low and rough.
The man’s eyes glowed faintly. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is the curse your blood carries, Alpha of the Draven Pack.”
Lyra’s ears twitched. “Curse?”
The man smiled faintly. “You think this bond between you is a gift from the Moon Goddess? It isn’t. It’s retribution.”
Kael shifted back into his human form, his expression cold and wary. “You’re speaking nonsense.”
The man shook his head. “Am I? Tell me, Kael do you even know what your pack was before it became the Draven?”
Kael’s brow furrowed. “We’ve always been Draven.”
The man’s eyes darkened. “No. Your ancestors were the BloodFangs. Ruthless, power-hungry wolves who led a massacre generations ago. They wiped out an entire pack the SilverClaws, the name Lyra’s pack was called then before the Vale.”
Lyra’s eyes widened, her white fur bristling.
The man looked straight at her. “Your family, your lineage, comes from those same SilverClaws. The night your ancestors burned, the curse was born. The Moon Goddess bound the two lines, BloodFang and SilverClaw, so that one would always destroy what it loved most.”
Lyra’s body trembled. “You mean…”
“Yes,” the man said quietly. “This bond isn’t a blessing. It’s punishment. Each generation, the Alpha of your bloodline is fated to be bound to the last surviving heir of hers. Love and death, tied together.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “You’re lying.”
The man’s smile faded. “Then tell me, Kael why does your mark burn every time she’s near? Why does her power rise when yours falters?”
Kael didn’t answer.
Lyra shifted back into human form, her eyes wide with confusion. “You said my family… my pack… were killed because of him.”
The man looked at her sadly. “Not him. His blood. His fathers before him. His line started the war. But Kael finished what they began.”
Kael’s eyes flickered, regret washing across his face. “Enough,” he said quietly.
But the man kept going. “You slaughtered the remnants of her pack, Kael. The SilverClaws that survived your ancestors’ war. You killed them, her family without knowing they were the ones your ancestors cursed.”
Lyra took a step back, the ground feeling unsteady beneath her. “No…”
Kael’s face hardened, but the pain in his eyes was clear. “It was war,” he said, voice low. “Your pack attacked the borders…”
“They were defending what little they had left!” the man snapped. “You called it victory. The Moon Goddess called it balance.”
Kael’s breath caught. He looked at Lyra, her eyes filled with shock and hurt. “Lyra…”
She shook her head slowly. “Your people killed mine.”
“I didn’t know,” he said, stepping forward. “I wasn’t even born.”
The man’s tone softened. “And now you do. The curse continues because neither side ever sought forgiveness. Until one of you ends it, it will keep repeating.”
Lyra’s knees weakened, her heart pounding painfully. “So, we were meant to destroy each other.”
The man nodded. “Or end the curse. But only one survives when the bond breaks.”
Kael turned sharply to him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” the man replied, “that love between you was never meant to last. It’s the weapon of your bloodlines. The Moon Goddess made sure of it.”
Before Kael could speak, the man’s eyes flickered silver. “Your fates are already written, Alpha. You can’t escape what was done long before you were born.”
A gust of cold wind swept through the clearing. When the moonlight shifted, the man was gone, vanishing into the forest as if the darkness itself had swallowed him.
Lyra stood frozen. Kael reached for her, but she stepped back.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
He lowered his hand, his chest tightening. “Lyra, listen to me…”
“We ruined each other,” she said again, her voice breaking.
Kael’s eyes softened with regret. “If I could undo it, I would. I should have never killed your family.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t look away. “And now we’re cursed because of it.”
Kael didn’t deny it. “Yes. But I won’t let it end the way it began.”
Lyra turned away, trembling. “Then you’ll have to fight fate itself.”
Kael looked up at the sky, the moonlight burning through the trees. “Then I will.”
TBC
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