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Alpha and Omega

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In a world where traditional roles are shattered, meet the enigmatic pair—Alpha and Omega. The Omega defies the stereotype of weakness, while the Alpha discovers he's not as omnipotent as he once believed. Forget about white fur, black fur, or any fantastical notions. In this reality, she doesn't cook, he does, and they both possess an unexpected allure that transcends the ordinary. There are no damsels in distress here, and crowns like "Alpha King," "Red Alpha," or other such titles are merely empty words. She's a rogue, and he's an alpha, but fate has a way of twisting expectations. Bonds form and bonds break, but who said they were meant for each other? Mates may come and go, but that doesn't define their worth. He doesn't require a Luna, and she has no use for an alpha. When the Alpha stumbles, it's the Omega who tends to his wounds. And remember, the Alpha and Omega here aren't bound by conventional gender norms. Buckle up for a story where "forever" takes on a whole new meaning. Discover their captivating journey in "Alpha and Omega," where the lines between strength and vulnerability blur, and destiny takes its unpredictable course. Don't miss out on the secrets that await. Follow me on my Facebook page: Cool Lette, for thrilling updates regarding my stories. Enjoy the suspense!

Chapter 1

I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline and happiness as my sword cleanly sliced Bennett's head off. I ignored the throbbing in my head, a familiar headache that came every time a pack member died. It would worsen when the adrenaline died down, but none of that mattered now. What mattered was the joy I had felt putting a pack member in his place.

I clapped my hands, drawing their undivided attention toward me. As usual, I ignored the glares, looks of disgust, and stoic expressions. They didn't affect me and never would, no matter how much effort was involved.

"So, does anyone else want to join him? Your death would be less painful. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Mara."

"Don't call me that," I sneered. Joe, my father's younger brother who had been mateless all his life and one of those men who thought a woman's place was in the kitchen and, well, in his bed. He pushed through the throng of angry pack members. I wouldn't blame them. This was the third body this week. They shouldn't blame me either. They all tested my patience, and if I didn't put them in their place, they would put me in mine.

They made way for Joe as if it were the alpha passing. Most, if not all, of my pack members thought he should be alpha because he was my late father's brother, but I disagreed. Being an alpha was my birthright, and not even Sleepy Joe could take that from me.

Joe never challenged me for the alpha title. Either he was afraid I would behead him in the process, or he thought the pressure would be too much and I would miraculously step down. He could dream all his life, but I didn't ascend the throne just to descend for some pathetic lowlife like Joe to take my place. I never liked Joe, and I didn't hesitate to show my dislike.

He smelled of eggs. Rotten, scrambled, boiled, or even fried. Joe was an egg, and I hoped I could be honored to break that egg and throw the yolk away.

"Manned up enough to challenge me?" I asked, smiling. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and I was feeling very dizzy. A feeling I didn't like after the adrenaline wore off. I usually blacked out, but I wasn't doing that today, not in front of Sleepy Joe.

"You're nuts if you think I'm going to challenge you. You will submit to me whether you like it or not."

I laughed. It was bitter and hoarse. "The only way that is possible is through a f*ck*ng challenge. Scared I will end you for good? My, my, Joe, I didn't know you had grown a p*ssy overnight."

Joe was about to retort but was cut off when Bradley ran into the arena, his breaths coming out in short but heavy pants.

"My lady, there was an attack on the clubhouse."

I hid my emotions well, just like I usually did every time I heard this type of news. I didn't build a clubhouse just for it to be attacked.

"What happened?"

"It's hard to comprehend, my lady. We were all merry, and with a blink, there was a fire."

"Were there any survivors?"

"No one except me."

"Do you know who did it?"

"A rogue. He is being interrogated right now as we speak. He hasn't said anything, and we were hoping you would interrogate him yourself."

"Thanks for the information, Bradley. Don't start building anything for the time being. Increase border patrol. No females or children are allowed to leave the pack borders."

He nodded, and I began to move. The dungeons were beneath the arena. "Bradley?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"One more thing. Take care of that body, will you?"

His smile was tight-lipped, and he nodded as he went to attend to his father's body.

Most rogues that attacked the pack lands came in groups or sought their mates and werewolves who had been banished from their nearest pack for one reason or another. The ones I accepted obeyed my every command.

Lukas straightened up once he saw me. "He's a tough nut to crack, Alpha. He didn't even flinch when I threatened to cut off his tongue. And he won't stop smiling."

When on earth did smiling become a crime? I wouldn't know, since I barely smiled. They never smiled. They either frowned or had blank looks on their faces. I had a feeling this one wasn't going to be easy.

"No problem, Lukas. Go home to your wife. Do whatever mated couples do, and oh, wash your hands before you leave."

He nodded, his eyes silently asking me if I would be okay on my own, alone with this rogue.

I tell him to leave before making my way inside the cell, closing the door behind me.

I shouldn't have closed that door.

His face was beautiful with a few scars that revolved around his eyes and ears. Scars littered his chest. The scar on his nipple caught my attention. There is a small mark on his neck, a birthmark maybe and what looked like leftover scars from a collar. His jeans are worn, torn, and dirty, and boy, they do leave an interesting v-line.

His feet are bare. His arms hang lazily by his sides. His eyes are closed and his hair is in a ponytail. The rogue is a little hairy. I can't smell him. This disturbed me a great lot. 

"I won't run away if that is what you are afraid of."

His voice is smooth. His pink tongue, (I can't believe Lukas wanted to cut it) ran over his bottom lip. His eyes remained closed.

"And why would I worry about you escaping? I wasn't the one who was beaten to a pulp."

"If dear old Lukas couldn't get anything out from me, what makes you think you can?"

"Well, for starters, I am the one who made you speak."

"Lies. I called Lukas a d*ckh**d because of his empty threats."

I rolled my eyes at him, not moving an inch.

"What do you want?"

"I think the question here is what do you want? Females usually don't come to me unless they want something from me."

I rolled my eyes at his comment. Egoistical arsehole.

"I do want something. I want to know why my clubhouse was burned to the ground."

"I was there, admiring the decor, and next thing I know there was a fire."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine. Suit yourself. It's not like I give a rat arse of what you think of me."

I am attempting a normal conversation with this, well abnormal man in hopes of getting him to talk. The stench that stuck with him is a clear message to anyone except for humans that he is a rogue. But to humans, he wears that bad-boy personality very well. I don't know why I am beginning to smell him. He stinks of burnt wood and the scent isn't nice, and that's a lot seeing that I am a wolf.

"It depends on your meaning of that word."

"Are you mocking me?"

"Should I?"

I scowl. "It is not fair if you keep answering my questions with a question."

"Life isn't fair sweetheart. I would appreciate it if you would stop trying to make small talk with me."

"You really should be afraid of me rogue. Most rogues I've come across, don't stay alive for this long."

"Most rogues. Well, it is a shame that I don't fit into that category. Don't you have anything other to do than question me?"

Talking to this guy was not a wise idea. He still hasn't opened his eyes and I secretly wonder why. His eyeballs moved underneath his lids, and he breathed slowly through his mouth. I don't know if it is the wolfsbane that Lukas had forced down his throat or a different matter entirely. 

"Open your eyes."

He didn't respond, but he tilted his head to the side, which meant a no.

"Open your eyes," I repeated each word slowly, infusing my alpha tone into my voice. He does not submit.

He grinned, his voice that lazy drawl that made my insides squirm, his fingers playing with his nipple. I don't know why, but that action alone seemed to turn me on. Unconsciously, I rubbed my legs together. This has never happened before. It is a good thing his eyes are closed, so he wouldn't see how flushed my cheeks have become. I can't believe a rogue is making me feel this way.

"The alpha thingy doesn't work on me. Plus, you won't like what you will see."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He continued to play with his nipple, the scarred one, and I am watching him for a while, closing my legs tighter than before. My breaths continued in short pants as it became a little hot down there. His face is calm, and he is completely unaware of what he is doing to me. Once I am tired of him, I am getting laid.

"You don't know me; you don't know my name. You can't possibly expect me to let you see my eyes. Leave me alone. It is best if you go take care of yourself."

My face reddened. He knew. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"I would open my eyes if you promise you would stop questioning me. Promise?"


Chapter 2


That's how my surroundings had become ever since the rogue had opened his eyes. Their total blankness scared me. I wanted to run, but the intensity of his gaze, and the need to see more than his eyes, rooted me in place.

No color, just like water.

But I had seen. His eyes weren't as colorless as they appeared to be. Now and then a purple dot would appear. He is having an inner turmoil, which is what I tell myself every time that dot appears.

The eyes always tell you how a person feels, but not his eyes. His eyes leave you frustrated because you can't see. His eyes are like staring at a glass of water, desperately trying to find something, anything in that liquid of nothingness.

Another thing I couldn't explain was the internal heat I felt after I had seen his eyes. It was like my body was on fire, the familiar feeling of heat, but this type had me wondering. You don't go into heat until you have found our mate, an


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