ShadowBorn Omega

The scent of lavender and expensive perfume filled the grand Evernight mansion, but to Raine Evernight, it smelled like a prison.

She knelt on the cold marble floor of the grand dining hall, her fingers red and raw from scrubbing. The soapy water in the bucket had turned a murky gray, but she wasn’t allowed to stop until the floor sparkled.

At the head of the long oak table, Vivienne Evernight sipped red wine, flipping through a magazine. She barely acknowledged Raine, though the occasional cruel smirk curled her lips.

Across the room, Celeste and Lila—Vivienne’s perfect daughters—were sprawled across a velvet couch, draped in silk robes, whispering and giggling.

“She missed a spot,” Celeste murmured, amusement glinting in her eyes.

Lila laughed. “I think she likes being on her knees. It suits her.”

Humiliation burned in Raine’s throat, but she didn’t react. She had learned long ago that fighting back only made things worse.

Vivienne let out an exaggerated sigh and finally set the magazine down. "Raine, dear," she cooed, her voice like poisoned honey.

Raine froze. Her fingers clenched around the cloth. That tone meant trouble.

"Yes, Stepmother?" she said quietly.

Vivienne took another slow sip of wine before setting the glass down with a soft clink. “You’ve been slacking,” she mused. “This house is still a mess.”

Raine bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She had spent the last twelve hours scrubbing, washing, cooking—making sure everything was perfect for the gala.

But it would never be enough.

Vivienne stood gracefully, her heels clicking against the marble. When she reached Raine, she bent down, nails biting into her chin.

“You should be grateful, you know,” she murmured, tilting Raine’s face up. “We let you stay here out of the goodness of our hearts.”

Raine stiffened, her nails digging into her palms.

“After all,” Vivienne continued, “who else would take in a pathetic little Omega with no wolf?”

Celeste and Lila snickered.

No wolf.

The words burned worse than any wound.

It wasn’t enough that she was an Omega—the lowest rank in the werewolf hierarchy. She had never shifted.

Most werewolves experienced their first shift at sixteen. Raine was now eighteen, and she had never felt even the faintest trace of a wolf inside her.

She was defective. Broken.

And everyone made sure she never forgot it.

Vivienne released her chin with a flick of her fingers, sending her head jerking to the side.

“Now,” she said smoothly, straightening, “you will serve at the gala tonight.”

Raine swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes, Stepmother."

Vivienne smirked. She reached for the curling iron sitting on the vanity nearby.

Raine’s stomach clenched.

She tried to step back, but Vivienne was faster.

The searing heat of the iron pressed against her wrist. White-hot pain lanced through her skin.

Raine gasped, breath hitching, but she didn’t scream. She had learned not to scream.

Vivienne held it there for a few agonizing seconds before pulling away.

“Just a little reminder,” she murmured. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

Raine’s breath shook. She cradled her wrist against her chest, the skin already blistering red.

Lila pouted. “Mother, that was too kind. She didn’t even cry.”

Vivienne smirked. “Then perhaps I should be harsher next time.”

Raine squeezed her eyes shut. She hated them.

She hated them so much she thought she might choke on it.

But she said nothing.

Vivienne turned back to her wine. “Clean yourself up,” she said lazily. “We can’t have you looking like a filthy little rat at the gala, can we?”

Celeste giggled. “But she is a rat.”

Lila hummed. “A little Omega rat.”

Their laughter rang in Raine’s ears as she forced herself to her feet, wrist throbbing with pain.

Tonight was going to be hell.

A Fatal Collision

By the time the grand ballroom doors opened, Raine’s wrist was wrapped in a bandage, hidden beneath the sleeve of the simple black dress they had given her.

It was not a servant’s uniform—but it wasn’t enough to let her blend in, either.

Vivienne had chosen it carefully.

She wanted people to see her.

Wanted them to whisper, mock her, remind her that she didn’t belong.

Balancing a tray of champagne, Raine moved through the glittering crowd of Alphas, Betas, and wealthy wolves, keeping her head low.

The room reeked of power.

Alphas in expensive suits, their voices deep and commanding. Women dripping in jewels, their eyes sharp with ambition.

Everywhere, there were hungry gazes and silent battles for dominance.

And Raine?

She was nothing here.

She moved quickly, avoiding eye contact. Her goal was simple: survive the night.

But then, as she passed a group of high-ranking wolves, their conversation made her slow just slightly.

“You heard the rumors, didn’t you?” one of the women murmured, sipping her drink.

“The Alpha King is looking for a bride,” another said with a sly smile.

Raine’s stomach twisted.

The Alpha King.

A man so powerful, so untouchable, even other Alphas bowed to him.

She had never seen him. She doubted she ever would.

But the idea of a man like that choosing a mate… it sent a strange chill through her veins.

She shook the thought away. It had nothing to do with her.

She was nobody.

A Collision That Changes Everything

Raine was too lost in her thoughts to see him until it was too late.

Her tray slammed into a broad, muscular chest.

Glasses shattered.

The room fell silent.

Raine’s breath hitched. Heart pounding, she lifted her gaze—

—and met the coldest, most piercing silver eyes she had ever seen.

Her stomach dropped.

The ballroom suddenly felt smaller.

His presence suffocated the air itself.

She didn’t know who h

e was.

But for the first time in her life, something inside her shifted.

Something woke up.

And Kieran Wolfe’s silver eyes burned right through her soul.