The Omega Witch

Alpha King Alexander

As time went on and Omegas kept themselves in hiding, only coming out to their most trusted pack mate, if she was in a pack to begin with. Many had been orphaned or sold by Sylvia over the course of at least a century. That is, until her story became legend, and Alphas began hunting for her to pull out her own definitive scent, the one that was meant to attract her own mate. The idea was to get the witch to stop and force the pair together. It was clear she didn’t want him—taking other’s was a thrill. It was fun to ruin their lives and destroy what their beloved goddess laid out for them.

Her rein needed to end.

In the meantime, Alphas turned on other Alphas. Their packs no longer trusted one another either. Instead, turf wars began and if it wasn’t enough to have them nearly wiped out in the first place, Omegas were stolen at every age.

It’s what started the war.

The Alpha King Alexander, none of which called him by name, was a strong but corrupted leader, one who sought out strays and made them a part of his pack until they presented. New Alphas were exiled, Betas were used like tools to fill out the ranks and all the while he hoarded whatever Omegas came from them. None were given up for his pack. He’d lay them on command alone pushing their heats into a constant stream. His ruts ravaged their bodies, bruising them deeply while he held onto that primal need to mark them, claim them, mate them for life.

Omegas in his possession were used until they could no longer provide children, even only a single birth considered her infertile, but he’d push her body through several more to be sure she could no longer provide pups for their disposal.

By then she was given to other ranking Alphas below him, ones that knew and repeated his rule and would not take a child if their given Omega could provide one. That litter would be killed via injection the moment she began to show, and the Alpha she’d been given to would be jailed for overlooking his duty to his King.

Ranking Alphas were never allowed to mark her either. The marks she wore were that of her owner, not of her next in line, leaving them truly alone inside. Some would defer their given Omega because of the lacking spiritual bond. The woman given was oftentimes a mute, a complete shell of herself, a drone. They were a thing to f**k and nothing more. While some men, the scavengers— the betas would do anything to sink their lengths into anything other than a cold toy, Alphas usually maintained a level of dignity, unlike their King.

King Alexander’s rule carried on for decades far after he’d turned old and frail. His long, thick form had since been depleted, his muscles were worn and soft by then. Gone was his mane, and balding had begun showing his old age through spots and lumps under his thin layers of skin. The tips of his ears, while still keen, now drooped just as the bags under his eyes had done. His whiskers grew in thickly on his face, where most would welcome the added security to his neck this provided in his old age, King Alexander did not. He found it only got in the way while he scented the incoming Omegas. The new flesh would need to know how to please him and hiding his mating gland from them proved to be a wasteful deed.

The man was truly haunted. One that even his pack rarely seeked out. If work could be done without involving him or his thoughts, their pack would just handle it, whatever it was. Alpha King Alexander still lurked in the minds of others, turning them from the good men they were to the non-trusting rivals of each of their brothers. It was as if he needed them to feel as he felt, lose as he lost.

It angered him that his mate would leave him to torture the young for so long. Her cowardly actions—never trying to find him, drove him to this reality, and in his anger he never showed any remorse for his actions. He’d only continued his path, their forced heats, his rutting, claiming that had it ever happened in another life this way again, he’d take all he could from every last Omega ever to cross his path.

Unbeknownst to the King, it was believed to be that the witch was his mate. That they were each other’s halves and because of the torture she’d inadvertently given to all of those men and women all that time ago, she still gave that same pain to her Alpha. Cruel and stupid as she was, she taught him how to take without a care for her or the women and families he’d ruined to wound her back.

The Omega’s sacrifices had them conquered until one day a vision came to one of the King’s many sons, Maximus, the largest of his mother’s multiple births. His size rivaled his father’s as he grew into adulthood. Maximus kept an ear to the wind and his eyes open at all times. Being the biggest was already a challenge to his own pack mates, one he was not looking to execute unless it was a requirement. The man’s size landed him a position as an enforcer, one who guarded the pack from a distance and made sure to collect dues outside of the grounds. His large frame made laying low nearly impossible, and of the places he had to, it made even his pack look to leave him be at nearly all costs.

His mother was one of the many overused Omegas. Her name never mattered to the King, instead Kassandra and the other’s names were silenced to him but remained with her pups as a link back to her, should they ever need her in their adult years— if either she’d ever outlasted her abuse or they’d ever made it that far. Kassandra knew what Alpha King Alexander had been doing, being that she was one of the many pups that was raised under his rule far before she presented. She was of the first of the pack that planned to help smuggle her children down the chain of command to a brother’s pack who kept their kin, no matter their sought out designation. Each member had a purpose, something to give, much to learn, and her outcast brothers could help each other get through life as it was until then.

Maximus, however, did not make it to them. So many of the others were found and killed while Kassandra was forced to watch. A war brewed inside of him, angered at his mother’s misstep, that the pack could do such horrific things, as well as wondering why he was spared. The man whined for every loss for his family, for his mother, then the anger set in. His father’s cruelty knew no bounds. Never once did he want to know what went on behind those closed doors but after she’d been forced to grieve the loss of the majority of her babies, he’d forced her down, hollering his warning to the sea of his pack, all in attendance that he’d take and kill them all if they ever defied him.

Not another word had been muttered by the Alpha King. Instead he’d released himself from his clothes, there in public, his body posturing to his mother’s, his hips shoved forward in her direction while he stroked his long, wrinkly erection in her face. Maximus growled at the sight, willing his mother to have the strength not to obey, only to watch her be forced against her will by other den members to submit to her Alpha..

It took him all his strength not to maul every last being, let alone find the sanity he needed to remain calm until his time would come. His mother took the abuse while the sick and deranged watched on, her body scraped against the rough stone beneath her with every ragged thrust before the Alpha King Alexander shouted through his release. His knot swelled only for a short time by then, whereas he would have been locked together with her for long enough to kill her with his own hands, had he gotten the chance.

The moment he’d deflated his mother moved to stand, commanded again by their fierce leader not to. Getting away from him within minutes would reinforce the need for a new alpha to rise and after his show of power, he’d kill her on the spot for bringing that fact to the light.

So she stayed, like the submissive omega she was trained to be until their pack dispersed.

The vision reminded him of every horrendous event he hadn’t been able to escape from but this one was different. It was a clear indication of what had happened there. How King Alexander treated every last one of the women he’d owned, the identical marks they bared. His eye moved with Alexander’s over each Omega he’d claimed. He could hear how they begged the goddess herself to engulf them in flames, to rip their soul from their bodies, their wolves from their hearts, ending their heats, their fertility and finally their lives with every touch of his breath on their skin.

His vision quickly changed hands to the pack, their fear, their need for their own mates, the odd satisfaction of being gifted a submissive little w***e and so on. His wolf seeked out the Brother's pack, a line, a link given to him from his mother. One he could chain link this message to one of their eldest allies, Alpha Dane. At least then he could be seen as one of them when the time came, baring the warning of what was to come. There would be more death and distraction, a promise of his mother and aunts all paying the price for no longer willing any of their pups to the King. Every last one of them would die at his hand for learning to do this, for ignoring their Alpha.

Alpha Maximus enraged as well as Alpha Dane who silently examined the message. He commanded his brotherhood’s pack to inform the rest that they would be engaging in a battle so fierce the world might end because of it, their lives would be at stake but the Alpha King needed to be put down! Maximus nor Dane refused to care who got to him first but required that they killed the bastard on site.

He could feel it, the movement throughout the world, what he’d called for, how it appeared in his vision, exactly so. One common goal rang out among them all, drop everything and run, support each other, one for all and all for one… it was what they were about, not what they could get. Maximus could feel the way they moved toward him, every last half a soul, brother and sister, shifted to run through the woods, the streets, everywhere to get to another Alpha, to support him. It was a powerful movement. One he surely would never forget.

Their collective shadow grew as they gathered along the horizon, shoulder to shoulder they sank down preparing themselves for the hunt. On his nonverbal command, they lunged forward. This was no articulated attack. Dane remained inside Maximus’ head, accessing what he needed, sending smaller packs throughout the land, capturing and killing any who opposed loyalty to their goddess. Their King did not follow her law and therefore needed to be put down for that and many other reasons. This attack wasn’t without consequence, however. Alexander’s forces, the ones truly loyal to him, suited up, morphing with both their human and wolf forms to intimidate, causing a war within them so great that they did not realize who they were fighting. Instead they fought for one, and only one thing, supremacy. No two knew what to make of the situation, it had just been, kill or be killed.

While Dane led his pack through the twisted scene, Maximus made his way towards the calling light of his mother. Her soft sounds in his mind pushed him on. His large human form, lean and muscular, had been swapped for his cunning charcoal colored wolf, Aaron, who was able to lift her faint scent from the streets where she’d been humiliated and used to locate not only her but Alexander as well.

The coward had himself locked away with his women, most in forced heats, in a power play to keep him safely hidden among them. Dane had been commanded to take to the scene, him and his mentally strongest officers, ones who could remove them from the filth that was this man, and find them safety without using their own bodies for such a position.

Before he knew it, he had a pack of twenty women alongside him, all of which shifted back from their powerful wolf forms in an instant as if the moon goddess herself had been there with them. They very seriously all looked up and back at the true alpha in the space, nodded once, and got to work.

The Omegas in the room were hard to watch, so many unaware of where they were, cried out to be filled, to be touched, to be freed. Their bodies were flush and waiting, some curling against each other trying to find anything to be filled with as he stalked through the room. His tail swished through the air brushing off several of the ones who begged to touch him. He hadn’t had time for that madness. Giving into his primal needs would only get him as far as this wretched king, and so he moved through them carefully until he found Alexander buried deep inside his mother.

Again.

Except she had lain limp and Maximus was sure he’d f****d her to death. It was a show… brutality at its worst, regardless of the young he killed to spite her. Aaron enraged to full strength, his rich alpha scent soothes the space. It washes over those still in it as if a summer’s rain has finally fallen, cleansing them of sin, entirely. There’s a collective moan throughout the room, but he’s deaf to it. Instead, he can only growl menacingly at his target. Alexander, before launching himself at the creature still semi locked inside her corpse.

It’s a cruel sight to see, the way she still bleeds when she’s ripped from his knot, but at least she isn’t alive to feel exactly what the devil has done. Alexander makes his way to retreat from her, shifting into his own wolf, still hard and awkwardly limping around to support the come, still sputtering out of him.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Asmodeus cackled at Aaron. His choice of words was not lost on him.

Aaron only lifted his lip to bare his sharp teeth, a warning not to speak again. He responds swiftly to the silver wolf before him the moment he snickers, sinking a full bite into the soft, wrinkly flesh of his shoulder. It’s disgusting and not the place of which he meant to land, but a wound is a wound, and he deserved many.

Dane’s pack moved nearly every Omega from the room, wrapping them in unseen fabrics clear of the combined scents in the room, a message that came into his mind upon checking over his own shoulder while they rounded each other.

“You will not get far,” Asmodeus continued, “Maximus.”

The fact that this trash even knew his name was damning.

“That’s right. I know you, son…” he sneered. “Is attacking your life bringer any way to repay me for the sacrifices I’ve made for you?”

“Silence!” is all Aaron can command while here in his presence. The longer the being is alive, the longer he can call for backup. He can feel the danger Dane’s packmates are in and they’re closing in fast.

Next he’s disoriented with the smell of his decaying mother, her vision, the light within her fading and the anger taking over him.

“Save them,” she whispers. “Yours will find you.”

Those four words are all he hears the moment his teeth sink in around the King’s old throat. He’d crushed his windpipe then quickly snapped his neck under his locked jaw. The deed had been done, but at what cost? He couldn’t save his mother. Her vision had since disappeared and those four words, yours will find you, silenced his comfort in finalizing Alexander’s reign, making him the next true King.

It’s not a role he truly wants, however. Instead he howls long and loud at the rising moon before giving the right to act to Dane.

“This land, it’s people, they’re free,” Aaron mentioned, while he morphed back into his human form.

“And you?” Dane asked carefully, doing the same. He stood tall, but not quite matched his brother in arms.

“Hmph,” was all he could add at the moment, following up a while later with those four words from his mother, again.

Dane could only let his lips curl slightly, repeating him as he went, then added, “Here’s to hoping you’re right.” A small nod accompanied them promising that the Alpha was always welcome among them, before Dane turned to regroup with his pack.

Maximus stayed behind laying each one of the fallen to rest where they’d passed, then returned for his mother to give her a proper burial, too. Except she hadn’t been there when he returned, not as he’d seen her last as the pile of flesh and bone on the ground of Alexander’s chambers. No, his mother had risen. Her spirit flowed as one true being with the goddess herself looming over her. Silence stretched over them while he watched her umber colored hair tumble softly around her face, her eyes sparkling brightly at him as a means to thank her son for the sacrifices he’d made for all werewolf kind. The abuse she endured had been healed, completely gone were her hideous scrapes and scars, especially the claim marks to that old fool. Replaced by it was a gown of white, typical for those who pass as they return to their goddess as rays of moonlight.

Selene herself began to speak, ushering the words of his mother back to him. It’s a promise that his mate is out there and that if he’s patient, he’ll find her.

“No one knows what happened to the Alpha who stood up to the Alpha King, and no one dares dig it up,” an upperclassman ends his tale to our class who all sort of sit around both intrigued and horrified by the story.

The trouble is, it’s true. There isn’t a speck of a lie anywhere in it and still I can’t help but need to ask more. There are so many questions I have circling around the witch and so up goes my arm and down drop their shoulders. It seems I was not supposed to ask them anything, just accept the story as it was but I can’t.

“Yes, Vivian?” the shortest of the three sighs as he asks me what I have to add.

“Whatever happened to the witch? It’s not clear that she was always a bad seed, or was she? Like do we have any records of what she was like before her parents gave her the serum? Was she always into the sciences? I thought the dark arts and reading at that time were things that only men could do—or Alphas, I should say. It’s not that I haven’t heard the story a thousand times, it’s just, it seems like a literal hiccup in time to just say she was a witch for what she was able to do. Also,” I heard myself say without hesitation, which made a lot of my classmates uncomfortable, “there’s notes to her only moving forward with the women of her time… but what if she moved sideways in time? I’m sure you’ve all read Dante’s theory…”

“That enough, Vivian,” the boy all but growled.

“No, it’s not. You haven’t answered any of my questions. Do you not have any answers?”

My fellow student body parted as he moved towards me. Despite feeling confident in my question’s reasoning, I no longer felt courageous enough to look the boy in the eye. To this point in all of my twenty two years of life, I cannot remember needing to do that to anyone but my den mother.

What was happening to me?

Was it him?

Goddess, please do not let it be him. I’m not even remotely attracted. He’s bony and small, a runt, surely this is not my Alpha.

The closer he comes to me the more unease I feel. There is a smell to him that is unpleasant like wilting flowers, vodka and old cheese, stars help the poor omega that swoons to that. My thoughts must be apparent to him. I never did have the ability to hide my emotions much like anything else, I was as free flowing and turbulent as the seas.

The boy sizes me up. I’m tall and built for my size and no one suspects me for the omega I am. Blockers have kept me safe enough for the time being, that and an experimental hormone I’ve been working on, the one I refer to as FA. Simply put, it covers the scenting process of an alpha and is genetically altered so that no two alphas smell the same once applied.

“It’s said,” he takes me by surprise that he both hadn’t growled at me or gone to slap me, which was common given my actual status. “That the ones that meddle in the sciences are just as desperate as the dark arts. Be careful what you go digging for Alpha,” he sniffs the air around me and turns up his nose. “You might not like what you turn into.”

His words are hollow but still ring in my ear long after the group has dispersed leaving me to find my way back to my dorm by myself.

Alpha, I giggle to myself a moment. He didn’t find out… however amusing that is, it doesn’t linger long.

What’s bothersome about it is wondering just what was really going through his mind when he stalked up to me. His eyes were fierce, an odd mint green, I’d only seen only once before, looking lighter still, like gemstones when paired with his bronze skin. He hadn’t been filled with longing to take but more for the hunt, to put me in my place. And yet, the boy never commanded me by my designation, I smirked at that, thanking the same science he referred to as dark magic in his wake.