Page 1 of The Feisty Omega

Prologue

Irian sat at his desk, chin resting in his palm as he stared out the window.

The world outside glowed unearthly pale under the steady gaze of the full moon. The tips of the trees glistened silvery grey as the faint breeze disturbed the topmost leaves, lower down shadows stirred, rustling mysteriously beneath the canopy.

The night was anything but silent. A thousand creatures rustled and scurried and scratched their way across the forest floor. High above the treetops, the occasional winged creature was silhouetted by the moon’s brazen glow. All of nature’s denizens were afoot tonight.

Irian sighed. What was the point of being a shifter if there was no pack? If you never ran with the full moon?

He could run by himself, he supposed. But the whole point of the full moon run was to find connection – connection with your wolf, connection with your pack.

But therewasno pack. He might as well do as he sometimes did – shift in his bedroom, and spend a few hours curled up as his wolf on the bed. Perhaps he’d do that later. Maybe. It seemed pointless.

The lonely cry of a mopoke rang through the forest.

With another sigh, Irian turned away from the subtle siren call of the moon, picked up his pen and returned his attention to his books.

XVth Shifter Council AMENDMENTS

SHIFTER UNIONS

Council Decree: 4.3

Effective Date: 2004

Intent of Amendment:bring mating rules into alignment with omega rights for self-autonomy

4.3.1. Notification of intent to claim (prior notice to guardians)

4.3.2Claims can be submitted to guardians after omega reaches age 19

4.3.3In the absence of other claims, a final decision can be made if the omega agrees, and a binding agreement made

4.3.4If multiple claims exist, claim process remains open until omega is 22, at which point omega chooses

4.3.5From age 22, omegas and alphas may form permanent unions, consummated by mating and mating bite.

Chapter 01

TAL

The wooden step creaked under my foot, splitting the silence of the midnight house. It was after midnight really, closer to 1am. Santa, if they truly existed, would have been and gone. Of course, I was old enough to know the truth about that, though possibly there was a part of me still lingering in childhood, that thought maybe such things could be true.

Another board groaned with my next step.

I froze, three creaky steps before getting far enough downstairs to see around the wall into the living room. A living room which I knew would be warm and glowing, complete with a Christmas tree covered in hundreds of tiny, cheerful lights, the presents underneath with their colorful paper wrapping and elaborate bows. I hadn’t seen it yet – disdaining to waste my time on such childish stuff during the day – but I could smell it from here… the fresh scent of pine, and the distinctive smell of new paper. I heard the soft hum of the electric candle as it changed colors in the empty room. Christmas was waiting for me down there.

There’d be stockings hanging from the mantelpiece, the names of their owners embroidered on them in red thread. I wasn’t interested in those. They were for the young pups and were sure to be stuffed full of little toys and treats that would have them running around in the morning, screaming in a sugar-haze for hours.

No, I was here for the magic of the tree, for the mystical ambience that embodied all the fairytales of my childhood, and all the dreams and unrealistic, idealist hopes of my innocent pre-teen years. Though they were well buried underneath adolescent cynicism, I’d never lost those dreams, never lost the kernel of a belief that at Christmas anything was possible.

There was a hiss, like a sigh, and I startled when I realized it came from me. When had I gotten so maudlin? I was too old for this silliness… which was precisely why I was creeping down the stairs alone after midnight, long after everyone else had gone to bed. Even the young ones had given up waiting to catch out Santa Wolf and were now tucked up in their beds, oblivious to everything, including their nineteen-year-old cousin slinking about the house to snatch a look at the Christmas tree in all its magic. I’d outgrown all the Christmas hoo-ha, well I should have, if the other shifters my age were to be believed. They scoffed at the tinsel, the carols, the excitement. I hadn’t joined in, hadn’t said a word, but I’d pulled faces at the appropriate times, so no-one would doubt I was just as cynical as they.

But perhaps they too were secretly like me. One foot already in the practical world of adulthood, one foot trailing behind in childhood. Maybe they too were sneaking through their sleeping households to catch a glimpse of the twinkling lights to feel once more the intangible magic of this special night.

I released the breath I’d been holding with a soft sigh. The board squeaked again as I shifted my weight. But no-one stirred. There was no-one awake. Just me.

I kept going. Just one look to satisfy myself, and then I’d go to bed.

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