The Wolf King’s Omega
By Midnight Sparkles
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Morning light filled the servant hall. Lyra moved slowly.
The other maids stared when she entered. Some sneered. Some whispered. Mira didn’t speak to her at all, she just gave Lyra a look full of disgust and walked off.
Ronan was speaking with two guards near the doorway. When he saw her, his brows lifted, surprised she was up at all. The guards left, and Ronan walked toward her.
“You should still be resting,” he said quietly.
Lyra shook her head. “If I rest, they’ll say I’m lazy. And I wanted to… say thank you.”
Ronan looked at her for a moment, expression steady. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“I do,” Lyra said softly. “Yesterday, I felt like I was disappearing. You pulled me back.”
Ronan opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes shifted behind her,
Kael.
He stood near the archway, arms crossed, watching.
Lyra froze.
Ronan bowed his head slightly. “Alpha.”
Kael’s voice was low and flat. “Ronan. A private meeting with a servant? Since when?”
Ronan didn’t flinch. “I was checking her condition. She was punished…”
“I remember,” Kael cut in. His gaze locked on Lyra then, burning but empty at the same time. “You seem stronger today.”
Lyra dropped her gaze. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Interesting,” he said. “One night of kindness and suddenly you have spirit?”
Ronan’s jaw tightened. “Alpha…”
Kael didn’t look at him. He only stared at Lyra like she was a puzzle and a threat all at once.
Lyra swallowed. “I only thanked him. Nothing more.”
“Why thank him at all?” Kael’s tone sharpened. “You cling fast for someone who claimed she wants nothing here.”
Lyra’s heartbeat rushed in her ears. “It was only respect.”
Kael’s eyes darkened, as if the word irritated him. “Respect? Or attachment?”
It took Lyra a second to understand. Then her breath caught.
He thinks… I’m trying to win Ronan?
Ronan’s expression shifted, the slightest spark of disbelief toward Kael.
“Alpha,” he said, voice cool but respectful, “she is not…”
“I didn’t ask you to explain,” Kael said. “Return to your duties.”
Ronan held Kael’s stare for one long second then stepped back and nodded once. “Yes, Alpha.”
He left, but not before giving Lyra the smallest, silent reassurance look.
Lyra took a step to follow the other maids, but Kael spoke again, stopping her.
“One moment.”
She turned slowly.
Kael stepped closer, voice lowered so only she could hear.
“Do not mistake survival for entitlement,” he said. “You think a little help means you belong. It does not.”
Lyra met his gaze despite the fear in her chest. “I never asked to belong.”
His jaw clenched. “Good. Keep it that way.”
His wolf stirred behind his eyes, restless, unhappy. He hated the feeling. Hated the confusion. Hated how seeing her talk to another man twisted something tight inside him.
Lyra didn’t know what to say. So she simply nodded.
“Yes, Alpha.”
Kael looked at her one more moment then turned and walked away.
Lyra exhaled shakily.
So did Kael, but only after he was out of sight.
Lyra was sent outside to work in the garden. At first, she thought it was a small relief to be away from crowded halls and sharp eyes. “You are reading from www.mhiztaemy.com.ng” The morning air felt cool and soft against her skin. Birds sang somewhere far off, and for a moment, the world seemed calm.
She knelt by a row of herbs, hands in the soil. Her back still hurt, but she moved slowly. Dirt clung under her fingernails while she pulled weeds and trimmed leaves. It was quiet here. Peaceful, in a way she had not felt since arriving.
Until she felt something strange.
Her fingers brushed the dirt and touched something hard. Not a rock. Something carved. Her heart jumped a little as she pushed soil aside. A small stone tile appeared beneath her hand. There was a mark on it. A moon symbol, thin and sharp.
She frowned. Why was something like this buried here?
Lyra brushed more dirt away, but before she could lift it, a sharp voice cut through the garden.
“Picking treasures already?”
Lyra turned and saw Ephra, the second-highest maid, walking toward her. Ephra always stood straight, chin high, as if she ruled the servants. She smirked with cold pleasure.
“Thought you were here to weed, not steal.”
Lyra shook her head. “I was not stealing anything. I did not even lift it.”
Ephra stepped closer and kicked dirt over the stone again. “Then stop acting curious. Curiosity is dangerous for someone like you.”
Lyra lowered her gaze. “I understand.”
“Good” Ephra said. “Learn to keep your head down. That is the only reason you are still breathing.”
Something inside Lyra twitched at those words.
Lyra tried to breathe slow. She tried to stay still. She did not want trouble. But Ephra leaned in, voice dripping with poison.
“Do not think the Alpha will ever protect you. The only thing you are good for is being stepped on.”
That spark inside Lyra suddenly pulled hard. Her chest tightened. Heat spread under her skin. Before she could stop herself, a low sound escaped her throat. A soft but clear warning growl.
Ephra froze, eyes wide in shock.
Lyra’s own eyes widened too. She slapped her hand over her mouth, heart racing fast with fear. She had not meant to growl. Her wolf had reacted on its own.
“I did not… I did not mean to,” she whispered.
Ephra’s surprise cracked into rage. “You worthless little thing. You think you are allowed to growl at me? You think you are someone?”
Lyra backed up a step, hands trembling. “I am sorry. It just… happened.”
Ephra moved closer. “Even weak wolves should know their place. You are nothing.”
Lyra wanted to argue. Or cry. Or disappear. Instead she lowered her head, swallowing the shaking inside her.
“I am not trying to fight,” she said softly. “Please.”
Ephra looked her up and down. “Pathetic. You cannot even stand straight, yet you want to act like a wolf?”
Lyra stayed silent, afraid her voice might break.
Ephra dusted her hands like she touched something dirty. “When Serena hears about this, she will make sure you regret breathing.”
Lyra’s blood ran cold. “Please do not tell her.”
Ephra smiled. “I already plan to.”
Lyra felt her stomach twist. Ephra walked away, whispering to another maid on her way. They both turned to stare at Lyra like she was a stain on the ground.
Lyra knelt again, her hands shaking as she returned to the dirt. She tried to focus on pulling weeds. But everything felt heavy. Her chest hurt, her eyes burned, and her wolf curled inside her again, small but awake.
She brushed dirt off her palm and stood up.
Back in the castle kitchen, whispers spread fast. Every time Lyra walked past, maids turned their heads, giggling or glaring.
“Did you hear? She growled at Ephra.”
“So embarrassing.”
“Serena will eat her alive.”
Lyra kept her eyes down and tried to work. But dread sat in her stomach like a stone. She knew Serena did not need a reason to hate her.
And now she had one.
***
Far above in the Luna wing, Serena leaned near her maid Cassandra, listening to Ephra’s whisper.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“So the little Omega thinks she has claws.”
Her voice was soft, almost sweet.
“Good. I want to see how long they last when I pull them out.”
Lyra was wiping down a long kitchen table when the room suddenly fell silent. She didn’t have to look up to know why.
Serena had walked in.
Her steps were light, and her smile was soft, but everyone in the kitchen stiffened like a blade had brushed their necks. Serena loved that reaction. Lyra could see it in the way her eyes sparkled.
“Good morning, little dove,” Serena said sweetly.
Lyra froze. Serena never used gentle names unless she planned pain behind them.
“Good morning, Luna,” the maids echoed.
Lyra whispered it last. “Good morning.”
Serena walked slowly toward her, pretending to study her like she was a painting that offended her eyes.
“I heard something interesting,” Serena said. “You growled at your superior.”
Lyra’s breath caught. “I did not mean to. I lost control for a second.”
Serena smiled wider. “Losing control is not acceptable. A future member of this pack must learn discipline.”
Lyra blinked. “Future… member?”
“Oh yes.” Serena stepped closer. “Even fleas remain on a wolf’s tail if they cling hard enough.”
A soft laugh rose from the maids.
Serena clapped her hands lightly. “So. Training.”
Lyra’s heart dropped.
The maids exchanged excited looks. They knew what “training” meant today.
“Follow me,” Serena said,
Lyra followed her out into the back courtyard. The ground was packed dirt, and a few warriors trained on one side, ignoring them. Serena pointed to a basket of heavy water buckets.
“You will carry those from here to the training post and back until sunset.”
Lyra looked at the buckets. They were filled to the top. Her arms already hurt just imagining it.
“Luna… I do not think I can lift those.”
Serena’s smile stayed soft. “Then you will learn. Pain teaches what softness cannot.”
She turned to the guards at the gate. “Watch her. If she stops, add more weight.”
Lyra’s heart pounded. Serena leaned in close, her voice quiet and low enough only Lyra could hear.
“You growled at my maid. So now you will crawl like the weak little thing you are.”
Lyra bit her lip hard.
Serena walked away without looking back. The other maids watched from a window, whispering and giggling.
Lyra lifted the first bucket. Her arms shook. It felt like lifting stone. She took one step. Then another. Pain shot through her shoulders and bruised back.
Her breath trembled. Her vision blurred a little.
She kept moving.
One slow step at a time.
The guards didn’t speak. They only watched. If she stopped, they cleared their throats or tapped their spears so she knew what would happen.
Lyra’s legs shook. Sweat ran down her neck. Her hands burned from the rough handle rubbing skin raw.
Halfway, she almost fell. Her knee buckled but she caught herself. The bucket sloshed, water spilling over her wrist.
A guard spoke for the first time. “Keep going.”
She nodded, forcing her legs to keep moving. Her wolf inside her whimpered.
Lyra whispered to herself as she walked.
“We survive. We survive.”
She could feel eyes on her. Some pity. Some mockery. Some waiting for her to fall.
She wanted to be invisible. But here she was, moving slowly like a wounded deer in a world full of claws.
***
By sundown, her dress was soaked in sweat and dust. Her hands were red and raw. She could barely feel her fingers. Her muscles trembled so badly she thought they might snap.
The guards nodded. “Enough.”
Lyra lowered the bucket and sank to her knees. Her breath came fast, but she didn’t cry. She pressed her shaking palms to the dirt and stared at the ground, dizzy.
She stayed there until the world stopped spinning.
Then, slowly, she stood again.
She was weak and exhausted
But she was still here.
And that alone felt like a quiet victory.
