The Cold Prince s Frozen Omega

Anastasia's POV

The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the crowded marketplace, silencing the chatter and drawing every eye. No one stepped forward. No one ever did. I was an Omega born to be a punching bag for the rest.

"Do you have any idea how much that dress costs, you filthy lowlife?!" the woman shrieked, her voice slicing through the air like a whip.

"I'm sorry, Miss. It was an accident. Please forgive me." I bowed my head, swallowing every slap she threw at me.

The longer I remained unmated, the worse things got. Misery clung to me like a second skin. I blinked away tears, my hazel eyes dull and red from crying. Hugging the small bag of supplies I'd bought for the upcoming Mating Ceremony, I turned to leave.

They say unmated Omegas without the protection of a ranked mate are cursed to suffer. Some don't even survive the heartbreak. And maybe it's true. But I still couldn't understand why were we treated like something less than werewolves, when we were the same species?

"Poor Ana," I heard one of the merchants whisper, not even trying to hide her pity. "Who would've thought her life would fall apart like this?"

"I'm from another pack. What happened to her?" someone else asked.

"It's been hush-hush," the first woman lowered her voice, conspiratorial, "but they say she was the daughter of the former Alpha and Luna."

"No one knows what really happened. They went out for a hunt... and never came back," another chimed in, her voice dropping even lower.

"And she didn't take over as Alpha?" the outsider asked, confused.

"She couldn't shift when she turned sixteen," the Bloodmoon Pack merchants answered in unison, like a tragic chorus.

"What a shame. Her parents must be rolling in their graves. No wonder she's just an Omega."

One woman scoffed, clearly wanting me to hear. "I'm an Omega too, but even I outrank her. She's nothing but a servant now. From being the pride of the pack... to its disgrace."

I clenched the fabric in my arms and focused on finishing my errands before returning to the edge of the territory where my tiny cottage waited. It wasn't much. Barely livable, really. The new Alpha had ordered it built after I failed to transform. But I was grateful. At least it shielded me from the cold.

Rubbing my stinging cheek, I walked the rocky trail home, my thoughts stuck on what I'd overheard. They weren't wrong. I had once been the heiress of this pack... until my parents vanished, and their Beta, Mr. Blackwood, took the throne.

Anyone who opposed him was quickly "removed."

Being an Omega was still better than being a rogue, I guess. Rogues had no home, no ties, and were hunted like criminals even when they'd done nothing wrong.

I sat on the porch, pulled out my mother's old sewing kit, and began working on the fabric I'd bought. It was simple, but I wanted to feel beautiful at least for tonight.

'Layla, have you sensed anything lately?' I asked my wolf quietly. I couldn't shift, but she was still there, buried deep inside me. Without her, I don't know how I'd survive.