Alpha Family’s Regret After Omega Daughter Died Chapter 2

The family sat around the fireplace and listened to Daniel tell the story of the blood wolf he'd faced in the heir's trials.

Vivian glanced down at her tablet. "Why is the line showing her vitals still flat? Daniel, could something be wrong with the sensor?"

Daniel scoffed. "No chance. That equipment has an error rate of less than a tenth of a percent. The flatter the line is, the more likely it is that her body is pouring everything it has into the wolf."

"I can't even smell Chloe anymore." My mother frowned and looked up the stairs.

"Cold dulls scent," Daniel reassured her. "When I went through this at twelve, I slept in my room all night. By morning, my wolf had awakened."

"But you and Vivian come from the strongest Alpha line there is. Chloe..."

Vivian considered that. "She just hasn't been pushed to the threshold yet. Mom, we're doing all of this so nobody gets to push her around later."

My mother went quiet.

She had been at a pack gathering once and overheard what people said when they thought she couldn't hear. "The Mercer family has produced nothing but Alphas for generations. How do you get an Omega daughter out of that? There must be something wrong with the Luna's genes..."

"Exactly. None of the Lunas before her ever produced an Omega."

The year I turned thirteen, she sent me to the best werewolf school in the territory.

And because my wolf hadn't awakened early, Daniel and Vivian's classmates cornered me outside the training field and laughed at me.

I came home crying and told her I didn't want to go back.

My mother held me all night. I thought it meant she understood.

Instead, the next morning she told Daniel and Vivian to awaken my Alpha blood, no matter what it took.

She looked me straight in the eye. "Chloe, once you're strong, nothing will ever be able to hurt you again!"

I was crying so hard I could barely see her. "But Mom, I have plenty of Omega classmates. They're all doing fine."

My mother was furious. She slapped me. "How can you compare yourself to them? You're a Mercer!"

I didn't understand. Why couldn't a Mercer child be an Omega?

She crossed the room and gathered Daniel and Vivian into her arms. "Your sister is lucky the two of you are willing to spend so much time helping her."

I watched all of it from up in the air, and I was calm.

I should thank them, then. They finally set me free.

This life had been too hard for too long.

Before the Nightwood training, Daniel told me a rescue team would be right behind me the whole way.

But my nose wasn't sharp enough. When I got lost, he wanted to see whether instinct alone would lead me out, so he held the team back for six full hours.

The cries of the night bats and vampires in that forest haunted my dreams. After that, I rarely slept well.

The first time Vivian used Alpha pressure on me, she said it would only last ten seconds.

The pain drove me to my knees, and I begged her to stop. Her eyes stayed fixed on the line shooting up on her screen. One more minute, she said, and my wolf would be forced out.

They truly believed they were helping me.

No one ever asked whether I wanted any of it.

"It's getting late." My mother stood up. "Call me the second the trial ends. I want to see her myself."

Passing my room, she faltered for a second.

My father came up behind her. "If it's bothering you, go in now."

Her hand was already on the doorknob. Then she remembered what it had been like when Daniel and Vivian were twelve and their wolves awakened.

Neither of them had answered anyone that night either.

The next morning, the Frostridge Pack woke to two of the strongest wolves it had ever seen.

In the end, my mother took her hand off the door. "Give her a little more time. Chloe has always wanted us to be proud of her. Maybe this trial will be the one that works."

My father put an arm around her shoulders. "Whether she comes out of there an Alpha or an Omega, she's still our youngest. Once this is over, we'll make it up to her properly."

I followed them down the hall and shouted, "I don't want you to make it up to me! I want you to open the door! Come look at what you've done!"

The only answer I got was my own voice echoing off the empty walls.

Late that night, my father pulled an old photo album from a drawer in his study.

In the picture, I was five, riding on his shoulders with a scruffy gray stuffed wolf under one arm, grinning like the world was mine.

"She used to follow me everywhere." My father ran a thumb across the photo. "Marie, have we been pushing her too hard? She's only fifteen."

My mother looked away. It was a long time before she said quietly, "One more night. If her wolf still hasn't awakened by morning, we'll stop pushing her."

My father nodded and set the album down beside him. He didn't slide it back into the drawer the way he always did.