Claimed by the Alpha Wolves (The Omega Selection #1)

Chapter 1

ONE

Faye

The moonlight filters through the trees, just barely lighting my path as I race along, breathing hard. I'm focused, knowing I can’t go home, no matter what. I need to put as much distance between myself and my cabin as possible.

Behind me is only danger. The path ahead is my only chance at escape.

A chill rolls down my spine, and I stiffen, alert as silence spreads around me in every direction. The forest seems to be holding its breath, waiting. But waiting for what?

I don’t think I want to find out.

The feeling makes me pick up my pace, although I’m still hyper-aware of where I step. I’ve never been the most graceful person. Actually, my brother, Miles, always used to say I could hurt myself on air, while grinning down at me and ruffling my hair.

And he was right.

For half a second I smile at the memory, and then my smile freezes. Miles. Pain sears through my chest, but I push the thought of him away and focus on putting one foot in front of the other. I just pray a root doesn’t trip me as I hurry through the woods, my backpack bouncing heavily on my shoulder. I can’t afford to get hurt.

Not tonight.

Any other night, I would be wandering around without a care in the world, breathing deeply, taking in the sweet scent of pine and the usual soft animal noises filtering through the trees. I’d be letting the moonlight wash over my face, reveling in the floral notes of night blooming jasmine and petrichor. Because the forest has always been kind of magical.

I think about the mushrooms, berries, and food I’ve been able to gather in these woods. Of my brother and I searching for mushrooms, bringing enough back for Grandma to make a stew. I was younger then and new to the freedom of not always having an adult at my side. I remember being afraid of every little noise, only for it to turn out to be completely harmless. A bunny or cicada would have my heart racing, but my brother would point out to me that fear of the woods is usually unwarranted.

“It’s usually a safe place for us wolves. We’re the hunters. Everything else is the prey,” he’d say.

But not tonight. Tonight, I’m the prey. I can feel it. I guess as much as I’ve shut out my pack bonds, they still figured out a way to find me.

The silence around me continues to stretch in all directions. Even without seeing them or smelling them, I know they’re out there. The forest knows they’re out there.

Somehow, they figured out I was going to make a run for it. I curse under my breath, wishing I’d had the forethought to leave sooner, before they came looking for me. Before they started to think about how I would handle being taken, knowing that there’s no way I’d go willingly.

As I run, I try to determine how many of them are after me, but it’s impossible. They’re not yet close enough for that. I just sense them all around me, like they’re trying to box me in.

I know I can’t outrun them. They’re stronger, faster, and there’s more of them. My mind races, trying to find a way out. There has to be a way. I can’t let them take me. I can't let them destroy my life.

I leap over a fallen log and land heavily, tweaking my ankle, which is so fucking stupid that I want to scream. Slapping a hand over my mouth to keep from making a noise, I grit my teeth. I might be a weak omega, but I’m stronger than they think.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I keep going, but I’m slower now, trying not to limp. Suddenly, their scents drift to me, hot and sharp like sweat, through the flowers and vines, the scent permeating from all around me. They’re close enough for me to smell them. This isn’t good. I need to be faster.

I speed up and push through the dense foliage. And then I’m coming to a rapid stop, staring at two gray wolves as they bare their teeth at me. No, no this can’t be happening! I still had time! I still had a chance! It’s like they came out of nowhere, materializing from between the trees. Their eyes glow in the low light, and my eyes lock onto their teeth, long and lethal.

What the hell do I do now?

They take a step forward, forcing me back. Then when I keep taking steps backward, gaining a little distance, they let out a low warning growl which makes me stop. My heart pounds, filling my ears, as my mind works slowly to consider my options. If I start running again, they'll just catch me. And I sure as hell can’t fight them. So, what? I know I’m out of options, but I don’t seem to have it in me to give up when I know the consequences if they catch me.

I put my hands up, continuing to step back. Maybe they’re like dinosaurs, and if I move slowly enough, they won’t realize I’m escaping. Okay, now I’ve officially lost my mind.

There’s the sound of a twig snapping behind me, and I whirl around. My stomach sinks. There are several more wolves in a semi-circle behind me.

There is no way I’m getting out now. As the realization begins to sink into me, one of the wolves shifts into a tall, familiar man with dark hair, dark eyes, and an air of importance. My alpha’s face is stern, as it always is when he looks at me. Like no matter what I do, I’m just a problem to him.

It’s strange–I remember his face so clearly. I remember it when I told him that the son of the leader of Pack Obsidian had murdered my brother. It was just as cold and harsh that day as it is now. Probably because even if he believed me, he wouldn’t go against such a powerful pack, especially not for an omega.

My eyes only meet Charles’ for a split second before dropping to the ground. It’s instinct, a survival code buried deep inside my body that I can’t control. He is an alpha. I’m an omega. We both have our places in the pack: his at the top, and mine at the bottom.

“Faye,” he says in a disappointed voice, and I swallow.

“That’s me,” I joke, even though nothing about this is funny.

“You shouldn’t have run,” he says, and the sound of his voice makes a shiver run down my spine.

The cool air whips around my legs, the soft growling of the other wolves like a chorus around me. We all know what’s coming. The wolves are going to enjoy this little show of ours, while I’m sure I’ll replay every moment of this night for the rest of my life.

“Well.” I laugh, despite the adrenaline coursing through my body. I’m still speaking to the ground. “To be fair, I ran because someone was chasing me.”

Charles moves forward and I jerk back on instinct, but he gets a hand on my arm before I can step out of his reach. A jolt goes through my body at the contact, and there’s a deep instinct within me to whimper and cower. Power like his can be felt by everyone, but most of all omegas.

“Let’s go, Faye,” he says, his hand tightening around my bicep until I look at him. It’s painful, but I wouldn’t dare pull my arm away. It’s like his gaze alone has paralyzed me into compliance. The two parts of me are at war: part of me wants to keep running, to ignore his directives, and the other part knows it’s not within my nature. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Please,” I say, my voice coming out light and breathy. “Just—you don’t have to tell anyone I’m even here! They would never know. I don’t come to the village. I’m not around other wolves, I’m just out here alone in the woods. No one would know and no one would care.”

He just shakes his head, looking bewildered. “Why are you this opposed to having alphas?”

I don’t know how to explain myself, but having alphas as my mates has unlocked a soul-deep fear from within me. Not only have I seen the cruelty an alpha is capable of first-hand when my brother was murdered by one, but I’ve also seen how little alphas care about us omegas. Like we’re walking uteruses whose only purpose is to reproduce. And if that wasn’t bad enough, it took the deaths of everyone I love to make me realize that being connected to other wolves is nothing but scary and painful. I just want to spend the remainder of my days alone.

Can’t anyone understand that? Can’t they just accept it?

“I’ll stay at my cabin. I won’t cause any trouble,” I tell him, trying to sound convincing.

“It’s not safe.”

My voice grows more frantic. “I’m perfectly safe. With the distance between me and any alphas or betas no one will be drawn to me. I swear.”

His voice dips a bit lower and softer. “Even if you could manage to convince someone that it’s safe, it’s certainly not regulation.”

“Sometimes the rules don’t have to be followed,” I say, resisting the urge to yank away from his touch. He still has his hand around my bicep, a light threat to how easily he could overpower me.

Charles shakes his head. “Not when I’m involved.” He sighs. “Already I made a mistake allowing you to stay out here too long and wallow, away from the connection to our pack, all because of that… disagreement with Pack Obsidian. Not that your parents and grandparent’s deaths helped with your behavior, of course.”

Disagreement ? The word echoes through my mind, stinging like an angry jellyfish each time it repeats. An alpha’s son murdered my brother in cold blood just because he came across him on our lands and felt like killing him in front of his friends. He was laughing while he did it, while ending his life in cold blood just because as a strong alpha, he could. That’s it. He killed the only person I loved… because he could. And no one did fuck-all about it because “only an omega” saw his murder. That’s not a disagreement.

He continues, his tone factual. “But it’s been four years since Miles’ death–”

“Three,” I correct him, my stomach twisting.

“And several since your grandparents died–”

I try not to remember the one and only vacation my grandparents took, which ended in a semi-truck rolling over their tiny car. “Five years,” I clarify, trying not to flinch.

“And you were, what, eight when your parents were killed?”

“Six,” I say, like my age really makes a difference.

His words seem to have caught up with him. His gaze finds mine and gentles, if only by a little. “That’s a lot of loss. I understand that.”

My parents’ deaths were the easiest to swallow. I barely have any memories of them before an angry alpha, leader of a powerful pack, started a fight that ended in them being killed. I was sixteen when my grandparents died, and remembered that clearly, but we were never close. I was their burden, and they were the only people willing to raise me and Miles. But Miles was different. His death was violent, right before my eyes, inflicted by a psychopath who changed my view on the world.

His death… I will never recover from it.

“Do you… understand how I feel?” I ask, my voice small, turning his words on him.

For once, an alpha looks away from me. “It doesn’t change biology. Soon you’ll go into heat and you’ll need a male, whether you like that fact or not.”

“I can handle going into heat on my own,” I say, trying to sound strong, but knowing I don’t.

“You can’t,” he tells me kindly.

I shake my head.

He sighs, which he seems to do a lot around me. “Are you going to make this difficult?”

Difficult? Difficult? Sure, because why the hell would I make my kidnapping difficult on him?

“Haven’t I already?” I joke, trying to cover my terror.

My legs are shaking almost uncontrollably. He gives me a droll look, his fingers flexing.

Finally he sighs. “You certainly could have made it easier simply by coming to town when you knew your time had come, but no bother, you’ll come now.”

“No,” I say after a long moment of silence stretches out between us. Then I flinch. No one disobeys alphas, least of all someone like me.

There are five other shifters surrounding me, and I know they’re scowling within their wolves. They probably think this is a waste of their time, dealing with an omega. Coming all the way out here for one omega that nobody cares about. I just wish my alpha’s sense of duty hadn’t outweighed his desire not to trek out here and waste all of their time.

He sighs again, releasing my arm, and I immediately try to bolt away from him. I know it’s useless from the first step. They caught me because I'm slow. I can’t outpace alphas. But I have to try. I don’t know why.

I get a few feet away at max before his arms wrap around my waist, and he’s hoisting me up over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Crying out, I struggle, panic unfolding within me.

“No,” I say, squirming, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

For a brief moment, I think I might actually do it—his grip loosens and I slip an inch closer to the ground. Maybe I’ve caught him by surprise. I kick my feet, trying to gain purchase, thinking that if I just don’t give up, I might get away from them… but he’s just adjusting his grip, and once he has a good purchase, it’s like I’m in a straight jacket. I can hardly move.

Damn it. Damn it!

“You’re twenty-one, Faye,” he says, and I’m glad that he’s at least breathing a little heavily. “The Selection requires that all omegas of age attend. Those are the rules. You’re not special—you don’t get to ignore them just because you don’t want to.”

Struggling like mad only seems to tire me out and make his grip tighter, cementing the fact that this chase is over. The predators have won. The prey has been caught.

Fighting tears, I say, “You don’t have to tell me I’m not special.” I sigh, slumping against his back as he carries me. “I’m very, very aware of that fact.”

“If it means anything, I am sorry,” he says, his voice quiet so only I can hear it. I trace my hand along the fabric on his back absently, bouncing with his steps.

“It doesn’t,” I say, and then, “If I said I’m not twenty-one yet, would you let me go?”

Without hesitation, he responds, “I wouldn’t believe you.”

I let out another long sigh, trying to feign being calm, but inside, my head is spinning. I am running out of options. Hell, I’ve run out of options. If my alpha has his way, and he always does, I’m going to The Selection, whether I like it or not.

After a moment of quiet walking, he speaks again, his voice low. “You’ve made it clear you don’t want to find a mate.”

I almost laugh. Don’t want to find a mate? It’s more than that. So much more than that. But, yes, I don’t want to find a mate. I never want to find a mate. I want to stay in my quiet cabin until I draw in my last breath, letting every meaningless day blur into the day before it.

“Respectfully, I don’t think you understand it at all.” Again, I find I have to swallow down my tears.

After a moment, he says, “If it helps, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about ending up with one.”

I’m surprised. “Oh, and why’s that?”

He’s quiet for a second, like he’s trying to figure out the nicest way to put it. Apparently deciding he can’t sugar-coat it, he just comes out and says it. “You’re just… so weak. I doubt the bond will actually take with anyone. It may be a few years of selections before someone accepts you as a potential match, and that will only be if they’re very desperate for an omega.”

“Wow,” I breathe, “ thank you .”

And I mean it. For other omegas, the prospect of not finding a mate is terrifying. For me, the opposite is true. Being too weak to form a bond is the best I can hope for. As long as I don’t go into heat any time soon. Sarcasm is an easy coping mechanism, but deep down, I’m sending up a prayer that he’s right.

Let me be too weak for the bond to form. That’s my only hope.