The sun had barely risen over the valley when Zeus's massive form appeared in the courtyard, carrying his daughter with careful precision. Scarlett's tiny body nestled against his chest, wrapped in a soft blanket, her dark hair catching the first light of morning. Even though she was small and fragile, Zeus's heart swelled at the thought that she was the only piece of her mother he could still hold.
Life in the Alpha King's fortress was both comforting and isolating. The halls were grand, the grounds sprawling, and yet, for Scarlett, it was a world that reminded her constantly of what she lacked. Other children of the pack ran through the fields, their laughter echoing across the valley. Wolves played among the trees, their instincts strong and wild, while Scarlett sat quietly on the balcony with her father, watching but never joining.
"You see them?" Zeus asked softly, his large hands brushing back her hair. Scarlett nodded, her small fingers gripping the edge of the railing. "Do you want to play with them?"
Scarlett hesitated. "I… I don't think they'd want me there, Father. They're strong, like everyone else. And I… I'm not like them."
Zeus's chest tightened. The truth of her words cut deeper than he expected. "Scarlett," he said, lowering his voice to a tone reserved for moments of heart-to-heart honesty, "being like them isn't what matters. Being yourself is the greatest strength you can have. And one day, everyone will see how remarkable you are. Do you understand?"
She nodded again, though uncertainty lingered in her eyes. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to feel that strength he spoke of—but all she felt was different, smaller, weaker.
As the weeks turned to months, Scarlett's days were filled with lessons from her father. Zeus was patient and kind, teaching her reading, history, and the traditions of the packs. She learned about loyalty, respect, and leadership, though she sometimes wondered if any of it would ever truly apply to her. After all, she was wolf-less, ordinary in the eyes of the pack, and she knew it.
Evenings were quieter. After the formalities of the day were over, Scarlett and her father would sit on the balcony, sharing a simple meal or talking about her mother. Zeus never shied away from her questions, though each one reminded him of the emptiness her mother's absence had left.
"Did she like the moon?" Scarlett asked one evening, her wide eyes reflecting the silver glow of the sky.
Zeus smiled faintly, brushing her cheek with one finger. "She loved it. She used to say the moon's glow was like a promise—it reminded her that no matter how dark the night became, light would always return. That's why I named you Scarlett. Your mother's spirit is in you. Every bit of her love, her hope… it's all here."
Scarlett leaned against his chest, feeling the warmth of his heart. She could almost imagine her mother there beside them, brushing back her hair or whispering gentle reassurances. It was a comfort, yet it left a hollow ache she couldn't ignore.
By the time Scarlett was old enough to walk through the grounds on her own, she had learned quickly that life among the pack was not always kind to those who were different. The other children—wolf pups and ordinary children alike—would run past her, snickering when she tried to keep up, calling her "weak," "useless," or "frail." Each insult struck deeper than the last, a quiet reminder that she did not belong.
She learned to retreat, to find corners of the estate where she could be alone. Her favorite place was the small garden near the edge of the woods, where flowers bent toward the sun and the river gurgled softly over smooth stones. She could sit for hours there, imagining what her mother would be like, dreaming of a life where laughter was not tinged with loneliness.
Zeus noticed the way she sometimes lingered in the garden, staring after the other children with a longing she couldn't voice. One evening, he joined her, sitting quietly on the grass beside her.
"They laugh," she murmured. "I try to play with them, but… they don't want me there."
Zeus's jaw tightened, and for a moment, the weight of his grief pressed down on him. He wanted to shield her from the cruelty of the world, to make it all disappear, but he knew he could not. "Scarlett," he said, voice steady, "people often fear what they don't understand. They see you as different, and that frightens them. But being different isn't wrong. It makes you unique."
Scarlett's lips trembled. "Unique… but lonely."
Zeus sighed and wrapped his arm around her small shoulders. "Yes. Sometimes being the one who doesn't fit can be lonely. But remember this: the most remarkable people are always a little lonely. It is part of what makes them strong."
She looked up at him, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Do you really think I could ever be strong?"
"Stronger than you know," he said firmly. "Stronger than anyone else can imagine."
Days passed in this way. Scarlett grew, learning the ways of humans and wolves alike—but always as an observer, never a participant. She learned archery from a distance, watching the pack's warriors practice, mimicking their movements in secret. She practiced running through the forest, leaping over roots and fallen branches, though she never matched the speed of the wolf-born. Every attempt left her frustrated, and sometimes she would cry quietly, wishing she could just belong.
Despite the isolation, there was one constant light in her life—her father. Zeus never allowed her to feel lesser, never permitted the whispers of the pack to corrode her self-worth entirely. Each night, he would tell her stories of her mother, of his own youth, and of the pack's history. He reminded her that she carried their legacy, even if the world had not yet recognized it.
One morning, as autumn leaves swirled across the courtyard, Scarlett sat on the steps of the main hall, watching the younger wolf pups chase one another. She had tried to join them earlier, offering a small smile and a tentative "Can I play?" The answer had been laughter, sharp and cutting, and she had withdrawn silently, the sting of rejection fresh in her chest.
Zeus appeared beside her without a sound, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You see," he said softly, "even when the world feels harsh, you are never truly alone. You have me. And one day… you will find someone who understands you entirely. Until then, let your own heart be your guide."
Scarlett leaned against him, taking comfort in the warmth of his presence. She did not yet know that the prophecy of the world-changing omega began not with power, but with love, loss, and survival. She did not yet know that her path would twist through darkness and light, that friends and enemies would come and go, shaping her in ways she could never imagine.
For now, she was simply a small, wolf-less girl, learning to navigate a world that had already shown her its cruelty. She was learning resilience, patience, and the strength to endure. And she was learning, above all, the most important lesson of all: that love—her father's unwavering love—could hold her steady even when the rest of the world turned away.
And in the distance, the forest whispered, carrying with it the faint stirrings of a destiny that would one day demand her attention. But not yet. Not today. Today, Scarlett would learn to be herself, ordinary in a world full of extraordinary creatures—and she would begin the journey that would eventually lead her to the friends, trials, and choices that would define her forever.