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Omega's Rebirth

What was worse than death itself? Well it was dying knowing that no one would miss you, knowing that your death was a favour to everyone you ever knew. This was exactly how I felt the day I died. I was the love child of the Eclipse Alpha King, in a time where the mate bond was considered sacred, a child born out of wedlock was nothing short of sacrilegious... 'It was his fault, he loved someone other than his mate...' 'It was his fault, he had carnal knowledge of a human woman.' 'It was all his fault, my only crime was being born out of his lust.' But why was that Alpha King father of mine perfectly safe, while I was hated, scorned and blamed for everything instead? Why did I have to be my father's bargaining chip, used to achieve his goals? Why could I not get a rejection like everyone else but was instead murdered by my own mate? Why was I killed before I even had a chance to live? I had a thousand questions and yet there was no one to answer and this was exactly how I died... So why then did my eyes flutter open to that day, a month before my death? Was it because of my little secret? A secret I will tell no one else but you... From the title of my tale, you must think I am an omega wolf... No, you got it wrong... I am not an Omega wolf, I am an Alpha wolf and my name is Omega. ~Second Book in the Werewolf Rebirth Series. *Not a prequel or sequel to 'The Alpha King's Nemesis', both books are not related save for the world setting and Werewolf Rebirth concept. *Cover art sourced from the internet, all credits to the original artist.*

JHeart · แฟนตาซี
Not enough ratings
731 Chs

Hardest Thing (Ch.464)

It did not take too long for Neveah to arrive at the open cell from which the scream sounded and sure enough, Menarx stood there, his emotionless gaze fixed on the battered man who was hung up on some contraption, dangling some inches off the ground.

Neveah squinted and it took a moment before she could identify the face behind all the blood. As she had guessed, it was indeed the Fae noble who had presented the Ixora flower to her at the ceremony.

The fairy was already unrecognizable, battered and broken in different places, blood pooled on the ground beneath where he was hung and still dripped at a rapid rate.

It was a mystery to Neveah how the fairy had not already died from blood loss.

The state the fairy was in was barely hanging onto his life by a thread, and clearly the fairy himself would be grateful for death but he was not allowed the privilege.