I Am Not An Omega, I Am The Queen Of The Deep Sea Chapter 01
I was the most ferocious siren in the deep sea, but I spent seventeen years on land pretending to be an Omega wolf.
I had three pups for an Alpha wolf—all geniuses, and all ingrates.
The Alpha thought I was boring and kept me like a pretty little doll on a shelf.
My three kids thought I was useless, said I was just a leech clinging to their father to get by.
Then one day, the water inside my body started to drain away, and scales broke through my skin.
Right in front of them, I jumped into the raging sea.
When that massive, silver-blue tail rose up and sent waves crashing everywhere, they completely freaked out.
***
I was a siren who’d snuck into a wolf pack.
To repay a debt, I saved that man, Vaelor, when he almost died in the ocean.
To turn my tail into legs, I paid a huge price. I became sickly, weak, practically a failure.
Vaelor was the most vicious Alpha among wolves, ruthless, moody, and unpredictable. No rogue dared come near the Stormhowl Pack territory while he ruled.
Everyone said that without his protection, I would’ve been torn apart by rogues long ago.
Truth was, I let him save me on purpose that day. Because back then, I still loved him.
Until I heard someone ask one day: “What would you do if you ended up with pups who hated you?”
Someone else answered, “Look on the bright side. A mother and her kids have a natural bond—blood’s thicker than water. Once they get a little older, they’ll come around.”
I just stared into space after hearing that answer.
See the bright side?
I was about to crack.
My first pup, Alaric, seventeen years old. Future Alpha heir.
The smartest. And the coldest.
The child I was once most proud of.
When Alaric was three, he got his first high fever as a wolf pup—a hundred and six degrees. Vaelor was out on patrol. Every doctor in the pack came, but no one could break that fever. Someone said we should take him to the central hospital, but a blizzard had closed the roads.
We couldn’t leave.
I held Alaric in the nursery rocking chair for three days and three nights.
Finally, the fever broke.
Alaric opened his eyes, looked at me, and said, “Mom.”
I cried. I’d never been so grateful that my child was still alive.
But he forgot that story long ago.
After a council meeting ended.
A few wolf nobles left.
Alaric stood beside Vaelor and said, “Dad, you should have chosen a stronger Luna back then.”
I froze.
Alaric kept going. “Other Alphas have Lunas who can actually fight alongside them. You’ve got an Omega who can’t even run a mile. That’s not exactly great for the pack’s future.”
Back then, Vaelor just nodded, like he agreed with Alaric.
My second pup, Torren. Now fourteen.
When he was two, he needed me to hold him every night before he could fall asleep. Vaelor thought he was too clingy. “How are you supposed to be a wolf warrior like that?” Torren didn’t care—he slept with me anyway.
When he was four, he fell in the snow and scraped his knee. He ran home crying. I put a Band-Aid on it, and he hugged my leg.
When he was six, he suddenly asked me one day, “Mom, why don’t you go fight with Dad?”
I said, “Mom can’t win.”
He thought about it really hard. Then he said, “That’s okay. When I grow up, I’ll fight for you.”
Then he hit puberty. He started worshipping his Alpha father.
One day at the training ground.
A few noble kids were making fun of me.
“For real, don’t you guys think Stormhowl’s Luna is super weak?” a redheaded boy said. “Last gathering, all the other pack Lunas stood with their Alphas. She just sat in the back like a shadow.”
“My mom says she’s the weakest Luna in history,” another girl chimed in. “I don’t even know why Alpha Vaelor picked her back then.”
“Maybe because she’s pretty,” the redhead laughed. “What else is an Omega good for?”
Torren could have stopped them.
Instead, he laughed.
He even joined in.
The redhead nudged his arm and asked, “I heard your mom can’t even shift?”
Torren sneered. “If she could, I wouldn’t be held back by her bloodline, still unable to shift at all. She completely ruined my Alpha heritage.”
I was right there.
I heard every word.
My youngest pup, Morrigan. Now eight. Morrigan was the most like me—silver-white hair, gray-blue eyes, even the same curve in her smile when she laughed.
Every night before she fell asleep, she wanted me to sing to her.
I sang siren songs.
When she was almost asleep, she’d say with her eyes closed, “One more time, Mom.”
So I’d sing it again.
Then one day.
The wolf pups all went to the Winter Hunt Festival.
Other pups’ mothers could fight, pack run, hunt. Only her mother looked sick and weak.
She got made fun of. When she came home, she completely broke down crying, screaming at me, “Why can’t you be like other moms?!”
“Elena’s mom can hunt! She killed a deer! Everyone clapped for her! Liam’s mom can pack run! Even little Lily’s mom helped set up the tents!”
“But what about you?! You can’t do anything! When people ask me what my mom does, I don’t even know what to say! All I can say is you’re sick! Everyone laughs at me!”
I was silent.
I wanted to say that Mom used to be amazing—more amazing than anyone you’ve ever seen. That Mom ended up like this because she fell in love with this family.
But I couldn’t say it.
Morrigan kept crying.
“Everyone says you’re weak.”
“Everyone says Dad deserves a better mate.”
“Sometimes I wish someone else was my mom.”
…
Thinking about all that, I stopped peeling the apple.
A new crack split open on my skin. I couldn’t help but gasp at the pain.
Right then, my three kids were standing in the living room. Their reactions were all different.
Alaric’s voice was cold. “Mom, that’s a plastic knife, not a silver dagger. If you interrupt Dad’s meeting again over a paper cut from cutting fruit, I’m taking away your pack hall privileges.”
Torren looked annoyed. “Seriously? So dramatic. How many times are we gonna do this?”
My daughter Morrigan just fidgeted with her storybook, not knowing what to do. Then she suddenly yelled, “Mom is so dumb!”
Genetics really are something.
They all inherited the siren’s “cold blood.”
I looked down at the nearly-healed cut on my finger.
I wasn’t being dramatic.
I was in pain.
Under my skin, where my scales used to be, it burned like fire.
My time was up.
The Sea God was calling me back.
If I didn’t get back in the ocean soon, my skin was going to split apart.
