Chapter 2 - Naia
It’s easy to point out a mistake in hindsight, but the hard part is deciding if it truly was a mistake or the way it should’ve happened all along.
Just a few months ago, my dad had been an immovable force, and the voice that shaped every decision, every command, and every breath I took. Even in the face of constant challenges from others, he stood his ground and did what he felt was needed.
It was what took him in the end, but even now, I can’t decide if it was a righteous death or the worst decision he ever made.
That’s what haunts me even more than the blood and the aftermath. More than the way pack dynamics shifted overnight, and everything changed for us as a whole, especially for my family.
Regardless of him giving the order to infiltrate Coldreach and take Sera back, something in my gut felt heavier than usual. I wanted him to wait and think it out first, but he refused. He said we needed to handle Luke and the other Alphas before they collapsed our pack entirely, so I followed orders.
And after he died, I kept moving, because that was what I was trained to do.
Even if it felt like my chest had been torn open the moment he hit the ground, and the second we retreated. Even when I wanted to tear them all apart for it, I couldn’t.
I had to obey, which meant pulling back when the opportunity for success was lost.
And now, I don’t know where I am. I don’t know the name or how far I am from the island, but I know it isn’t home.
The air is too thick with smog, and it’s too loud, but in an unnatural way. There’s no ocean to cut through, and no familiar trees to ground me. It’s just concrete, fluorescent lights, and a warehouse that makes my skin crawl.
I’m in some kind of holding room when I hear footsteps coming down the hallway, and I brace myself, curling my fingers into my palms. More than anything, I want to reach for my inner wolf, but I can’t. Whatever they’ve done to me, they’ve managed to suppress it somehow.
It’s like that part of me is in a cage beneath my skin, dulling the strongest part of me and muting the very rage I could use to get myself out of here. Everything about it feels wrong, and I hate it.
But I’m still alive, and still able to act, regardless of what that looks like.
Before I can stop it, my mind drifts back to picking through the wreckage of the last few weeks, trying to make sense of how I even ended up here.
It all started with Hayes, as most things do.
Part of me bristled at the way he stood where our father once did…strong, unyielding, and impossible to ignore. The pack bends for him differently, though. Rather than respect, they move with fear for what might happen if they don’t listen.
After his first defeat, Dad was an easier target than he once had been, but Hayes is a different story. He’s young, ambitious, and has nothing to lose but his title now. With no mate or family of his own yet, he’s only just beginning, and he’s hungry to lead his way after waiting in the wings for years.
I told myself it was all necessary, and that Hayes was just doing what had to be done to secure Wraith Peak’s future. That strength was what we needed after the chaos following Dad’s death.
I believed it, and something in me still does, because the alternative means questioning everything I’ve ever known. Questioning things wasn’t in the cards for an Omega.
That’s what I was born as, and what I’ve always been, but I was never just that. My father wouldn’t allow it, and neither did Hayes.
My brother pushed me harder than anyone else dared and trained me beyond what anyone expected. He taught me to fight, to endure, and to be useful in any way I could be.
“You may be an Omega, but that doesn’t mean you can be weak. It means you need to be smarter, and to gain the upper hand wherever you can,” he’d said once, offering me the piece of advice I carried with me ever since.
So I learned, I followed orders, and I adapted. With his words to guide me, I became something more. At least, I thought I did, and I thought he had my best interest at heart.
After our father died, something shifted, and that seed of doubt I had for Hayes’ leadership only grew in me when it started.
It was subtle at first, but I started to notice fewer responsibilities being sent my way, less involvement in strategies and plans, and conversations stopping when I entered the room.
I told myself it was temporary and that Hayes was settling into his role. I assumed he just needed time to remember my place and what I was capable of.
But I realized my place had changed, and he had no intention of recognizing my strengths. If anything, it just got worse.
Despite my training and ability to follow, it was like I had been reassigned and put back where I “belonged”.
To him and the rest of the pack, I was just an Omega and a tool to be used rather than heard when it suited him.
