Omega's Rebellion: Shadows Of Power

Nov

place, where I could move around without having to worry about the rules of the pack. I was supposed to be quiet, invisible, and obedient as an Omega. That was what everyone thought

choice could lead to success or failure. In secret, I had taught myself how to hunt by studying the tracks, the animals' behavior, and the forest's rhythm. I had learned how to move quietly, hit quickly, and leav

en I moved, taking one careful step forward, and the forest seemed to hold its breath with me. My mind moved quickly, like instinct, and accurately,

k, stabilized and kept going, ignoring the pain. I couldn't afford to be weak. Being weak was a punishment. Be

e off for going beyond what Omegas were "allowed" to do. I got to the clearing just in time, crouched down, and with a quick, practiced motion, I brought my prey down. I felt a rush of vic

told me to hide in the shadows. I looked over the trees, ferns, and brush. There was nothing but the soft gurgle of the stream and the gentle sway of the leaves. I shook my h

g slowly and carefully while watching me. My heart raced, and I couldn't breathe as a chill ran down my spine

o was always there but never spoke up for herself. I got up slowly and carefully, keeping a close eye on the forest. I felt the hilt of the small knife strapped

, but the air around him was full of power and danger. I felt the first real tremor of fear since I started this hunt. It wasn't fear of death or pain; it was fear of what this presence mea

part that had trained, planned, and fought to prove myself, wouldn't back down. I stood up a little straighter, daring him to come close

not really, even though the shaking in my chest made it seem that way. It was something sharper and more dangerous. Wanting to know. Curiosity. A hard thing to do. I didn

ng the trees, quiet, and impossible to read. I wanted to run away, to disappear, to keep myself and my pack safe, but my feet wouldn't let me.

though my heart was racing and

eciding if I was a threat, a curiosity, or something else entirely. Finally, his lips parted, low and cont

n his voice. Just looking at it made my stomach clench and my

thing I couldn't put my finger on. It all felt weak under the weight of his gaze: my v

in so quietly that it was hard to see. And just as I was starting to get brave and get rea

I saw something move that I couldn't identify. He was gone when I looked back at where I had seen him. He dis

figure out if I was angry, excited, or scared. He had looked at me, judged me, and then left w

ing I thought I knew about strength, hierarchy, survival, and myself. And I had a feeling that my fight to be mo

ing, and planning. I could hear the forest whispering around me, and I knew that my life, my freedom, and