Ezra
I opened my eyes to a soft ceiling light staring back at me. It took me a moment to realize I wasn't on the ground anymore. My head didn't hurt. My chest wasn't burning like it was yesterday—though I felt a familiar sensation there. I blinked slowly and pushed myself up.
My room.
The same bed. The same blanket. The same decor.
For a moment I wondered if everything that happened was a nightmare, but my torn shirt on the chair and the mind numbing fear that held me yesterday, said otherwise.
"So you're awake."
I jumped at the voice and turned instantly.
Lysandra was sitting in a chair by the window, arms crossed, looking at me like she'd been waiting for hours. A weird chill ran down my spine because somehow, in all this time, I hadn't even noticed she was there.
"How long—" I swallowed. "How long have you been sitting there?"
"Long enough," she replied.
Her tone wasn't angry, but it wasn't warm either. It was something in between tired, disappointed, and something else I couldn't name.
I ran a hand through my hair. "What… what happened to me?"
She stood up slowly, her expression unreadable. "You don't remember?"
"Not really. I mean… I remember the alphas. I remember running. And the alley." My heartbeat slowed a bit at the memory. "But after that, it's blank."
"Blank," she repeated carefully.
"Yeah."
She stared at me in a way that made me uncomfortable. It was like she was studying me, or trying to read something written on my face.
She exhaled. "I knew you would slip out," she said, walking closer. "In fact, I knew the exact moment you stepped out of this house."
My eyes widened. "You what?"
"You think you're quiet, but you're not nearly as invisible as you hope."
She leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossing again. "I didn't stop you. I wanted you to see what it's like for an unprotected omega.
One who is not only a virgin but one who can't control his pheromones and looks like…" She paused. "…someone sculpted by the gods."
I blinked hard, heat rising to my cheeks in the most irritating way.
"Okay. You could've just told me that instead of letting me nearly die."
"You wouldn't have listened," she said. "And besides… the alphas weren't supposed to get that far."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I was about to step in," she explained, "before everything changed." She tilted her head. "Before you changed."
I stared at her, trying to follow.
"I don't quite understand what you're talking about."
Her eyebrows lifted. "You really don't remember?"
"No."
She pushed herself off the table and walked closer to the bed, now standing right in front of me.
"Ezra, omegas don't fight. Omegas don't throw grown alphas across an alley like toys. Omegas don't… rip bone out of place with one twist."
My stomach dropped. "I did what?"
"You took on all three of them." Her eyes stayed steady on mine. "And they did not survive."
My mouth fell open. No words came out.
"I didn't…" I shook my head hard. "I don't remember that. I swear I don't."
"I believe you," she said simply. "But that doesn't change anything. Something is wrong with you."
"Wrong?" I repeated.
"You're an anomaly." Lysandra paced a few steps. "Based on our structure, our roles, our bloodlines, our entire system, someone like you shouldn't exist. Omegas don't have strength.
They don't have raw power. They don't have… whatever you did last night."
"I didn't do anything," I muttered, rubbing my forehead.
"You did," she insisted, voice firm. "And you didn't just do something, you did the impossible. You went feral. You went into a state that only high-level alphas can achieve. You moved like someone who had trained for years.
You weren't even reacting to push them away, you were leading the fight."
My throat felt tight.
Everything she said sounded like a lie. How the hell was I able to beat up those niggas that loved so bulky and evil? There was no chance.
"Lysandra," I said quietly. "I really… don't remember any of that. I just remember them backing me into the alley and then everything went fuzzy."
She stopped pacing and looked at me again. "Then maybe something inside you took over."
I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure if I was okay or if she had lost her mind.
A long silence filled the room before she broke it.
"This doesn't change the fact that in two days, we're taking you to the royal alphas."
I stared at her. "You still want to take me there? After this? After what I supposedly did according to you?"
"Yes," she said. "If anything, this makes it even more urgent."
"Why? Because I might be dangerous?" I snapped.
"Because you're unpredictable," she said plainly. "And unpredictable omegas attract attention. Dangerous attention."
She took a breath. "Even if you tried to run, the spirit of Aethelgard wouldn't let you leave."
I stiffened. "The what?"
"Aethelgard binds its people here," she said. "Omega, alpha, mage, beta, it doesn't matter. If you try to escape this world's pull, you'll end up in the Forgotten Land."
"And that is…?"
"A place you don't want to ever see." Her eyes darkened.
"The creatures there don't care about rules. They don't care about your role. They don't care about your scent. If you think alphas in the city are bad, Ezra, you'd meet worse things there."
I looked away from her. .
"So, I'm trapped."
"Yes," she said quietly. "I mean, sorta but this isn't a bad place Ezra."
She stepped closer again, her tone suddenly becoming more serious. "You have to figure out what you are, Ezra. But while you do that, you must be careful.
You can't go around showing people what you can do. Omegas aren't meant to be strong. They're not meant to overpower alphas. Do you understand what that means?"
I shook my head a little. "Not really."
"It means alphas will take it as a challenge," she said.
"They will feel threatened. And when alphas feel threatened, they do everything they can to assert control. If they want to injure you, humble you, break you, outrightly rape you, no one will stop them. No one in Aethelgard will protect a strong omega."
I felt sick.
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"Recover," she said plainly. "Then I'll explain the rest."
I sighed and leaned back against the pillow. "Fine."
She started to turn away, but stopped suddenly. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me again.
"Ezra," she said slowly.
"What?"
She walked up to the edge of the bed, staring at my arms, my neck, my chest. Her expression shifted into confusion.
"What happened to your injuries?" she whispered. "They're gone."
I looked down at myself.
"I had injuries?"