Soren
The sun was barely up when I got the call. It was Rudolf, his voice was taut and I knew what he was going to say.
Suddenly, all the tension I released last night came rushing back to me and a frown marred my face. It was obvious what the call was about.
The tension had been brewing for weeks, ever since my ascension as Alpha few months ago. And not just any Alpha, an omega at the helm. It was unheard of, and it was something the others were struggling to accept. Not that I cared because I have pretty much ignored them since the start.
It didn't help that I wasn't a puppet they could control and they hated that even more than they hated my double status.
"There's an emergency meeting," Rudolf said without preamble. "The Alphas are gathering again. They're challenging your authority. It's about the usual, they're unhappy with an omega leading the pack."
"When are they not talking about it? I am getting sick and tired of that topic," I grumbled.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. This was bound to happen eventually. They'd tried to undermine me quietly, but the whispers had grown louder. The fact that I held both mafia control and pack leadership made them uneasy. They could handle power, but they couldn't handle it being in my hands.
"I'll be there," I said, my voice calm but with a steely edge. I hung up before he could say more.
The meeting was held in one of our oldest safehouses, a large, decrepit mansion on the outskirts of town. The kind of place where the bad ones kept getting worse and shadows were valued more then actual humans.
The room was filled with the scent of old wood and dust, mingling with the faint, iron tang of blood that never quite left these walls.
I heard them mumbling and raging about my punctuality but isn't that the number one lesson in power. To make them wait.
I smirked slightly.
As soon as I entered, the chatter died down. Every Alpha turned their eyes on me, the disdain in their eyes permeated the air and I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
They couldn't even try to hide it.
I scanned the room, counting faces. There were at least a dozen of them, all seated around a long table. Close to the door, Rudolf nodded to me, his expression grim like he didn't like what he had been hearing.
"Good of you to finally join us, Alpha Soren," one of the Alphas sneered. It was Victor, a burly, scarred man whose frown seemed permanently etched onto his face. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, trying to make himself look as imposing as possible.
I met his gaze evenly. "I had other matters to attend to," I replied smoothly. "But I'm here now. Let's not waste time."
"Matters more important than addressing your own pack's concerns?" asked Ivan, another Alpha, with a mocking tilt of his head. He was thinner, wiry, with a cunning glint in his eyes. "You've got a lot to explain, Alpha Soren. This isn't just about pack leadership anymore. Your refusal to step down has affected our business, our territories. The mafia doesn't take lightly to unexpected changes in hierarchy. You are aware of that being a new Alpha and all,"
A few others murmured their agreement. The mafia. It was always about the mafia. They cared as much about our pack's strength as they did about their control over the criminal underworld. To them, I was a liability, a wildcard they couldn't predict or control.
"Let's get one thing straight," I said, my voice cutting through the murmurs. I took a seat at the table, leaning forward. "I may be an omega, but I earned this position. The former Alpha acknowledged my strength. I didn't take this lightly, and neither should you. And second of all, why is my pack matters your business? Don't we all have our territories to protect?"
Victor scoffed, his lip curling. "Strength? Or manipulation? We've heard the stories, Soren. How you twisted the his arm, how you swayed votes in your favor with your omega wiles. You're not a real Alpha. You're just a puppet who knows how to pull strings."
I felt the anger simmering beneath my calm exterior but didn't let it show. "It's Alpha Soren, Victor." The insult slipped right out of my tongue easily and he flinched, his frown deepening even further.
"You think I manipulated my way to the top?" I asked, my voice deceptively soft. "Then why did no one challenge me when I took the mantle? You had your chance, Victor. You all did but you said nothing like cowards. And yet, here we are."
Silence fell over the room. They knew I was right. They'd had their opportunity, but they hesitated. Not because they feared me as an omega, but because they feared what I represented, a shift in the natural order, a disruption of their power. I was an abomination to them and not fit to be one of them.
Alphas, leader of the pack and territory leaders by default. They were trying to intimidate me to step down so they could encroach on my territory and take what's mine.
That won't be happening on my watch.
"That's because we were trying to give you a chance," Ivan said, though his voice lacked conviction. "But it's clear you don't understand the responsibilities of an Alpha. You've let outsiders see our disunity. We've heard whispers from your subjects about your weakness. They're watching us, Soren, and they don't like what they see."
"The mafia?" I repeated, leaning back in my chair. "You're worried about what they think of us? The same people who use our pack as their muscle? Who send us to do their dirty work and expect loyalty without question?"
I knew what they were really worried about, the mafia. The same people I worked for, what a laugh.
"We've always had a mutually beneficial relationship with them," Victor snapped. "We keep order in the territory, and they make sure the authorities don't interfere with our affairs. You're jeopardizing that balance."
I let out a cold laugh. "The balance? Is that what you call it? Being lapdogs for the mafia, scrambling to appease them whenever they feel slighted? That's not balance. That's submission. And if you think I'll lead this pack by bowing to them, then you've got the wrong Alpha."
The room erupted in angry shouts, accusations flying from every corner. I watched them, the so-called leaders of our kind, devolving into chaos. It was almost pathetic how quickly their unity crumbled. I held up a hand, signaling for silence.
"You want to challenge me?" I asked, my voice low but carrying a dangerous edge. "Then do it properly. Stand up, face me, and let's settle this the old way. But if you're just here to complain, to try and sway opinions with words instead of actions, then you're wasting my time. I trained as much as you for this position, I studied and I took on challengers that were…what's the word for it again?" I gave them a mocking glance, "more intimidating than you are,"
They shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances. No one moved to stand. I could see the uncertainty in their eyes. They wanted to challenge me, but they were afraid. Not just of me, but of what I represented.
Before anyone could speak, the doors to the room swung open. A tall, imposing figure stepped inside, the light casting a shadow over his face. But I didn't need to see his face to know who it was.
Damien Voss
His scent tickled my nose and I tried to hide my disgust.
The room fell silent. Damien was not just any Alpha, he was one of the strongest, one of the most respected and feared. He had ties to both the pack and the mafia through his father, bridging a gap that no one else could. His arrival here was expected and still, it sent a shiver of unease through the room.
"Alpha Damien," Ivan acknowledged with a nod. "We weren't expecting you."
Damien stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the room before settling on me. His lips curled into a faint, almost amused smile. "I heard there was a meeting," he said. "And from the sounds of it, quite a heated one."
I waited for a sound but no one said a peep, I tried not to let my disbelief show because they were so vocal moments ago. I scoffed at how pathetic they were in front of a younger Alpha.
"You heard correctly," I said, standing to face him. "The Alphas are questioning my authority. Apparently, they think an omega can't handle both the pack and the mafia's interests."
His smile widened, though there was no warmth in it. He glanced at the others, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "Is that so?" He moved to the head of the table, standing beside me as if he had every right to be there. The tension in the room spiked.
Victor cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "We're just concerned about the pack's position, Alpha Damien. With Soren as Alpha, there's been talk from the mafia. They think we've gone soft, letting an omega lead."
"And what do you think?" Damien asked, his voice calm but I knew he was angry. I hated knowing I still knew his quirks. "Do you think Soren's weak? That he's incapable?"
No one answered immediately. The room was suffocatingly silent. Victor shifted in his seat, avoiding Damien's piercing gaze. "It's not about weakness," he muttered. "It's about tradition, about maintaining our strength in the eyes of our allies."
Damien chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Tradition," he repeated. "It's always about tradition with you, Victor. But let me make something clear. The mafia respects power, not tradition. And Soren has proven he has power. He's still standing, isn't he?"
There were murmurs of agreement, reluctant but present. How quickly they changed opinions when the other they really respected, who might I add had done nothing with his power supported me.
I felt sick to the bone