The radiant dawn spilled through the dense canopy of Moonvale Forest, painting the sky in delicate shades of rose and pale gold.
Morning light shimmered like scattered gems, clinging to blades of grass still jeweled with dew, as if the earth itself were awakening in a breath of pure magic.
The air was fresh and sharp, steeped in the mingled scents of pine resin and damp soil after the night's rain.
It was a symphony of life-birds trilling from lofty branches, while the breeze caressed bare skin with whispers of the wild.
Fourteen-year-old Nova darted between the trees, her bare feet moving with feline grace, barely disturbing the ground as beads of dew splashed cold against her skin.
Her heart thundered, not from fear, but from the delirious joy of running free, as though a river of untamed life surged within her chest.
In her mind, Lyra-the omega wolf spirit bound to her soul-laughed, the sound chiming like silver bells laced with the low growl of a distant storm.
That primal mirth rippled through Nova's body, setting her nerves alight with exultation.
"Faster, Nova! We are the wind! Nothing can catch us!"
Lyra's voice rumbled with fierce delight, an intoxicating command that pushed Nova to stretch further, to run swifter.
"Watch this, Lyra!"
Nova's laughter rang bright through the forest as she vaulted over a fallen trunk, twisting midair before landing in perfect silence.
The earth seemed to embrace her feet, the scent of moss and decay rising like a greeting from the ancient woods.
"We'll show them that an omega is not merely born to soothe—but to lead."
From behind, a young male's voice echoed, sharp with worry: "Don't go too far! The kidnappers have been sighted nearby!"
"I'm fine!"
Nova called back, her smile radiant as sunlight, her eyes glimmering beneath shafts of gold filtering through the leaves.
"Lyra will protect me!"
"Yes! I'll tear them apart if they dare touch you,"
Lyra growled with pride, her warmth flooding Nova like fire, leaving her feeling untouchable, invincible.
The light dappled her face, still tender with childhood's innocence, unmarked by scars the world had yet to carve.
She tilted her gaze to the open sky, her heart swelling with blind faith that the world was boundless for the brave, that her role as omega, a healer, a unifier, the spirit of her pack-would one day be honored.
A gift, not a burden. She did not know... in mere minutes, this paradise would unravel into hell, the gentle dawn swallowed by darkness, and her laughter shattered like glass beneath the hammer of fate.
Then it came.
A guttural snarl ripped through the underbrush, thundering out of a clear sky, scattering birds into panicked flight as the forest itself trembled.
Lyra's warning roar surged within her, raw and primal: "Run-NOW!"
Nova froze, breath catching as the acrid stench hit her-cold iron, foul machine oil, human sweat reeking of lust and hate.
It smothered the forest's perfume, twisting her stomach with dread.
"Lyra... what is it?" she whispered, her voice shaking, eyes scanning the shifting shadows, where the dark itself seemed to move, prowling closer. Her heart pounded like a war drum.
Too late.
A crack split the air. A silver net hurled from the trees, glinting like lightning, wrapping around her body. The threads bit into her flesh, searing, releasing smoke as though her skin burned alive.
Nova screamed, thrashing, her nails raking uselessly at the bindings.
Blood welled from the cuts, metallic stench mingling with the acrid smoke. A needle plunged into her neck, a cold suppressant flooding her veins like ice, strangling her omega power, paralyzing her limbs.
"No... lyra... don't leave me-!"
Her cry broke into sobs, tears streaming as her mind clawed desperately for her wolf. But Lyra's voice fractured, then faded, leaving a profound silence so hollow that it was as if her soul had been torn apart.
The world tilted. The sky blurred.
Darkness devoured her whole.
When Nova awoke, she was chained in a stone chamber rank with mildew, iron, and old blood. The damp air clung like poison to her skin, each breath like swallowing rot.
Shackles gnawed at her wrists and ankles, ropes rubbed her skin raw until blood seeped in bruised blossoms.
Water dripped from the ceiling, each drop echoing like a blade carving time into eternity. A jaundiced lantern swung above, its sickly light twisting shadows on the walls into monstrous forms.
"Lyra?" she whispered, broken-voiced, eyes raking the dark for her wolf's presence. Silence answered. Silence, and the aching void where her soul had once felt whole.
The iron door groaned open, hinges shrieking like tortured metal. Nova flinched, her body trembling. A hulking man entered, his smile a grotesque sneer, teeth yellowed, foul breath wafting like rot.
"A fresh omega," he rasped, voice thick with hunger. "Soft. Clean. She'll fetch a fine price."
"Test her first," another chuckled, his tone slick with venom, brandishing a whip.
They dragged her forward, chaining her arms to the ceiling. The cuffs bit deeper, blood slick against rusted iron. The whip cracked—Snap!
Fire lashed across her back, flesh splitting, blood soaking her torn tunic.
Snap!
The second blow struck her chest, agony radiating like lightning, her scream breaking hoarse against stone.
"Cry louder, omega!" the man bellowed, drunk on cruelty. The whip fell again and again, blood spattering the walls, the stench of iron mingling with sweat and tears.
"Inject her,"
Kaelan ordered, his voice cold. Another needle plunged into her arm, liquid fire coursing through her veins, convulsions wracking her body. Fever burned through her, heart hammering wild, skin aflame as though hell itself consumed her.
She sobbed, broken "Lyra... please... save me.."
But silence answered. Her wolf had receded into the abyss, abandoning her to agony and emptiness.
Days bled into months. Torture came in shifting forms-dank caves with dripping water, cages thick with filth, basements that reeked of decay.
Each place is another face of hell. They beat her with whips, chains, fists heavy as hammers. Her body blossomed with bruises, bled in rivers.
When she fainted, they doused her with icy, fetid water, dragging her back to pain.
"Drink, weak omega" one jeered, forcing foul water down her throat as she gagged.
They laughed when she wept. Nothing but merchandise. Scream, so the alphas pay more!"
When she begged, "Please... let me go... I've done nothing.." They sneered: "You're not human. You're livestock."
And they violated her. Again and again, rough hands crushing her throat, tearing her body, leaving her bloodied and broken.
Each assault was another blade to her soul, her tears and blood mingling, the stench of her own suffering choking her.
"Why did you abandon me?"
She whispered to the silence where her wolf once was. Her voice dissolved into sobs, but only darkness answered.
Her hope withered. She stopped screaming. She stopped crying. She stopped calling for Lyra. All that remained was emptiness.
Until the storm came.
Rain pelted the earth like icy arrows, wind howling like freedom's cry.
Thunder shook the dungeon walls, and lightning seared the night. Drunken guards slumped into a stupor. The storm drowned their jeers.
Then-an explosion. Stone shuddered as if ripped apart by the claws of titans. Smoke and gunfire roared, wolf howls tearing through the dark.
The iron door burst wide. A towering figure surged through the rain, golden eyes blazing like suns.
"Nova!"
His deep voice cut through the chaos, scented with pine and earth, pure and fierce. Strong arms lifted her from her chains, pulling her against his chest, warmth shielding her from the cold storm.
Rain washed the filth and blood from her ravaged skin.
Behind them, the clash of steel and teeth rang as wolves tore into their captors.
"Protect her!" another voice thundered, as two gray wolves leapt to block the path, snapping and ripping through the enemy.
Nova, barely conscious, felt a flicker of will ignite- fragile yet fierce, like a flame rising from ash. She raised her gaze, meeting the fierce, protective eyes of her savior.
"I'm alive... I'll find my wolf again," she whispered, before the darkness claimed her once more, gentle this time, like rain on leaves, like the growl of allies at her side.