Page 4 of Claimed By the Alpha Wolves

“Hey.”

I startle and glance over at the dark-haired omega sitting next to me in our bus seat, wondering why she’s suddenly decided to talk to me after our long and peacefully silent journey. She’s looking at me intensely, having paused in whatever she’s knitting, her needles sitting idle above a mess of yarn. I don’t even have to ask her how she feels about coming to The Selection, because she’s been radiating peace and happiness from the first moment we got on the bus, just like all the other girls.

If only I could do that.But it’s been two days since my alpha caught me, and I’m no closer to accepting my fate. No closer to unraveling the tangled ball of anxiety that’s lodged itself in my stomach.

I realize my hand is clenching the bag in my lap so tightly that my knuckles are white, and I loosen my hold, if only by a little bit. It’s hard to drag in a full breath as I look at her, waiting for whatever she’s about to say, but as her mouth opens, her attention shifts to the front of the bus, and whatever she was going to tell me dies on her lips.

Just ahead of us, huge gates seem to leap out of the dense woods that surround us. They are iron, well-built, and intimidating, screaming of a gothic castle forgotten by time. I wonder how many omegas before me looked at these very gates, feeling the same terror that churns my guts.Probably none. I’m probably the only omega in history who doesn’t want to find her mates.

I’m probably also one of the only omegas with enough life experience to understand that as omegas we’re on the bottom of the food chain, and the alphas are at the top. To them, we’re just a tool to use to get children. There’s no real love between us. No real connection.

The Selection, and all its glamour, is just a lie to tell young women too foolish to know the truth.

Holding my breath, we pass through the gates, and the world seems to close in around me.This is really happening. There’s no escape now.

“I’m Linda, from Pack Gold,” she says, this time softer, nudging at my arm a little with her elbow. “Are you okay?”

I let out a watery laugh, dropping my head into my hands.No, I’m not okay. How can I be okay? All I want is to go back to my quiet cabin in the woods. It might have been cold, even with the wood stove crackling with flames, and food might have been so hard to come by that I went hungry many days, but it was home. It was the only safe place for me in this world.And now, what will become of it while I’m away? Nothing good, I’m sure.

But I can’t say that, so I just open my mouth and ask, “Is anyone okay?”

A moment of silence passes before the omega speaks again. “Yeah,” she says gently, “I’m okay, actually. Most of us are pretty excited for what’s about to happen, but you just… you don’t seemtoo well. I can hear your heartbeat. It’s racing, and you look clammy and pale. Areyouokay?”

What she doesn’t say is that she can basically sense my fear, as a wolf. Which is embarrassing. It certainly says something about just how weak I am if even an omega can sense my fear.

I blush at the idea that my heart is pounding so loudly she can hear it. I swallow and take a breath, trying to calm my breathing, hoping that will slow my heartbeat, but all it does is make me feel suffocated. Not only am I drowning right now, the people around me know it. Which just makes a shitty situation even shittier.

“I—” I start, but my throat is too thick for me to talk.

Looking out the window and seeing nature would usually help me during a moment like this, but all I can see is the neatly tended road, the branches cut back from the woods to make room for it. This isn’t nature. Not really. This is a place that man has carved out for himself.

As I glance at the bus full of omegas happily chatting to one another, all being carted off to The Selection, I realize they wouldn’t care that we’re being taken to this place by force or that the pretty gate and well-tended road is only leading to our enslavement, because they don’t see this ceremony that way at all.

“My mother says coming here is one of the most magical times, a time we’ll remember forever,” the omega says. She can’t possibly know that mentioning her mother, mentioning having a family of any kind, only makes me feel worse. She continues, “It’s my first time, is it yours?”

My mind is stuck on this omega’s mother, the talks they must have. How they chatted before she got on the bus and came in for The Selection. I wish, so desperately, that I had something like that. But my mother died when I was just a little girl, and my grandmother died before she could tell me much of anything.Right now… I have no idea what I’m walking into. Not a damn clue. Just that I might never be free again after this.

If only I had someone left who cares about me.

Miles…

Feeling heat pooling in my cheeks and my eyes getting hot, I try to count in my head, to think of something, anything else, but the memory comes, unbidden, like always. First, I see my brother’s mop of curls. That’s always what comes into focus first—his hair, which I would know anywhere. I can see it bouncing as we run through the fields, can picture the time he shaved his head bald, and grandma had a fit about it. I remember his smell, like the grass, and the way my hand always seemed so small compared to his. But it didn’t matter, none of it did, because we were best friends. We had our grandparents, but they didn’t care much about us, so we mostly just had each other.

It was enough for us though.

Then, as he always does,Kurtcomes into the frame like a nightmare, sending a chill down my spine. I see blood dripping. I hear the sound as it hits the earth. And I realize, I remember,again, that my brother is dead, and that Kurt murdered him all because he wanted to. That was enough of a reason for him. The grief hits me every time nearly as hard as it did the first time, the sorrow and dread planting in my chest and rooting throughout my body.

My brother is dead.

My entire family is dead.

Kurt’s cold smile is what lingers after the rest of the memory is gone. He’s the son to the powerful alpha of Pack Obsidian. That neatly trimmed blonde beard around his face, the swept back, almost slick blonde hair. Everything about him screams of power and wealth, even though the truth is that facade simply hides the monster within him.

I hate him with everything in me, but it doesn’t matter. There's nothing I can do about it because I’m just an omega.

With a start, I realize the omega next to me is still staring, waiting for me to answer her question. I think back, trying to remember what she was saying before the memory came to my mind.

“Uh,” I say, coughing a bit, then straightening in my seat. Was it my first time? Yes, but only because I was unsuccessful in evading the committee. “Yes. It’s my first time.”

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