The Wolf King’s Omega
By Midnight Sparkles
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Lyra woke before sunrise.
Her body ached.
Her heart ached worse.
She slipped into the servant dress, rough fabric, tight collar, thin shoes.
It felt like giving up.
But she lifted her chin.
Was an Omega not born to obey?
Born small, born weak?
No.
She stepped into the servant hall. Heat from the kitchens hit her first, warm bread, boiling water, angry voices.
A few girls looked at her.
Whispers started right away.
“That’s the Omega he brought in.”
“Why would an Alpha bring a weak girl here?”
“She must have done something shameful.”
Lyra kept walking.
The head maid, Mistress Hale, stood at the front.
Beside her stood Mira, her second, red-brown hair, sharp smirk.
Mistress Hale’s voice echoed:
“Everyone, this is Lyra. She will work with you. Treat her like any other servant.”
Her tone warned them, no one should mistreat the girl.
But Mira’s smile said she would try anyway.
Lyra bowed her head politely.
“Yes, Mistress. I will work hard.”
Mira stepped forward.
“Good. We will see. Omegas are soft… like wet paper.”
A few maids giggled.
Lyra didn’t respond.
***
Lyra scrubbed floors until her knees stung.
Carried buckets until her arms shook.
Was pushed aside more times than she could count.
Some servants pointed.
Some smirked.
In the kitchens, Mira cornered her.
“You look tired already,” Mira said
“I’m fine,” Lyra answered.
Mira’s smile dropped.
She slammed a bowl into Lyra’s hands, hot water sloshed out, burning her wrists.
“Then work faster, little wolf.”
Lyra hissed softly from the heat, but she didn’t drop it.
Mira frowned, she wanted fear.
Wanted tears.
Lyra gave her nothing.
“You think you’re better than us,” Mira whispered.
“No,” Lyra said quietly. “I just… want to survive.”
Mira’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s not enough here. You must stay low. Know your place.”
Lyra held her gaze.
I don’t have one yet, she thought. Not anymore.
***
Later, when Lyra was sweeping near the grand hall doors, they opened.
Serena walked in, golden dress, jeweled hair pins, she looked so beautiful.
Maids froze.
They bowed quickly.
Lyra bowed too, because she had to.
Serena’s eyes slid over the room…
and landed on Lyra.
“Well,” Serena said softly, voice ringing like crystal.
“I see the little Omega found her place.”
Lyra said nothing. She kept her eyes down.
Her hand tightened on the broom.
Serena stepped closer.
“I thought you might cry,” she whispered. “Or beg. Omegas break easily.”
Lyra stared at the floor.
Her heart pounded.
She would not give Serena the satisfaction of seeing pain.
A few maids whispered, watching like it was a show.
Mira smirked beside Serena, instantly eager to please her.
“Serena,” she said sweetly, “we are making sure she learns her place.”
Serena smiled,
“Good. The castle should not waste time on broken things.”
Lyra swallowed.
She felt smaller than stone dust.
But inside, something growled.
She lifted her head, just enough to meet Serena’s eyes.
Her voice was quiet, but steady.
“I am not broken.”
The room froze.
Serena’s smile vanished.
Then she turned away like Lyra was nothing.
“Keep her busy,” she said to Mira.
“And keep her silent.”
She walked off, gowns flowing like fire behind her.
Mira hissed in Lyra’s ear.
“You should have stayed quiet.”
Maybe she should have.
But she didn’t regret it.
Not one word.
No matter how badly she shook inside.
Lyra returned to the laundry room after Serena left.
She kept her head down and washed clothes in cold water that stung her skin.
Voices drifted from the hallway, two older maids whispering near the door.
Lyra didn’t mean to listen.
But when she heard the word Omega, she froze.
“…that girl, the Omega… did you hear?” one whispered.
“Yes,” the other breathed. “The old stories. The bond that cannot be broken.”
Lyra’s heart thumped.
Moonbond.
She had heard the word once as a pup, in a bedtime story.
A fairy tale.
A curse.
“She could bring ruin,” the first maid said quietly.
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“They say an Omega fated to an Alpha can destroy a whole kingdom.”
“And doom the Alpha,” the other added.
“Make him fall. Make him weak.”
Lyra’s fingers slipped in the water.
Her chest tightened.
Was that why Kael looked at her like she was danger?
Why Serena hated her?
Why fate dragged her here?
She didn’t want this.
She didn’t ask for this.
“I heard the last Moonbond ended in blood…” the maid whispered.
“Both lovers died. And their packs burned.”
Lyra pressed her hand to her mouth, fighting a sob.
Lovers.
Death.
Burning packs.
She didn’t even know Kael.
She didn’t want him.
She wanted her family, her home, her life back.
But fate didn’t care.
And Kael didn’t either.
She backed away from the door, shaking, and sat on a wooden crate.
Her heartbeat was loud.
I don’t want to destroy anything, she thought.
I don’t want to hurt anyone.
But what if she couldn’t stop it?
What if she was the curse?
Tears filled her eyes, quiet, hidden tears she refused to let fall earlier.
She wiped them away fast.
By noon, the castle buzzed with noise. Servants rushed with trays, guards trained in the yard, and the smell of roasted meat drifted through the halls. Lyra worked quietly, folding linens in the laundry room, trying to bury the whispers she overheard.
She pressed her lips tight and kept folding.
Outside, the sound of local horns echoed through the stone halls. Servants stopped moving. Heads turned. Horns didn’t sound unless someone important arrived.
Mira pushed the laundry room door open, breathless with gossip.
“The elders are here,” she whispered, eyes wide. “From the mountain temples.”
Mistress Hale frowned. “Why would temple elders come here without warning?”
Mira shrugged but her smile curled. “Maybe they came to check on our precious Alpha. Maybe they sensed something… strange in the castle.”
Her eyes flicked to Lyra.
Lyra lowered her gaze and kept folding.
Footsteps walked past the hall. Deep voices. Heavy boots.
Lyra didn’t want to look, didn’t want to draw attention, but curiosity caught her.
She stepped closer to the doorway.
Three elders walked through the grand hall, cloaks dragging across the marble floor. Their faces were lined. Silver markings traced their skin, sacred symbols.
The castle guards bowed. Even nobles standing nearby lowered their heads.
Then came the fourth elder.
He walked slower, leaning on a carved wolf-head staff. His presence filled the hall. His eyes scanned everything.
When his gaze brushed Lyra, she froze.
He stopped walking.
The other elders turned in confusion, but he lifted a hand, silencing them.
He looked at her like he knew her. Like he had been expecting her.
Lyra’s throat felt tight.
The old wolf’s voice was low.
“So the whispers were true,” he said. “The Moonbond has awakened.”
The laundry room went silent. A few servants gasped.
Lyra stumbled back a step. “N-no,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The elder’s stare deepened. “Child, you carry a mark older than kings. Older than packs. Older than war itself.”
Lyra felt her breath catch. “I didn’t ask for this.”
His expression softened, almost sad. “No one ever does.”
His gaze shifted toward the Alpha’s throne room.
“The Moon chooses. The Blood binds. Fate does not ask permission.”
Lyra grabbed the edge of a table to steady herself. “Please… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
The elder nodded slowly. “And that is why fate chose you instead of another.”
He turned to leave, cloak sweeping the floor, but paused once more.
“When the moon rises full,” he said, “truth will come. And chains will break.”
He walked away with the others, guards scrambling to lead them to Kael.
Mira stared at Lyra like she was looking at a weapon.
Mistress Hale looked like she was staring at fate itself.
Lyra just felt cold.
Everyone was talking about destiny.
But she only wanted her life back.
And deep inside, curled tight like a sleeping wolf, fear whispered
What if there is no going back?
