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The Moonlight Tears Of An Omega

The Moonlight Tears Of An Omega

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img 107 Chapters
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img Wisdom Nkwocha
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"This thing can never be my son. You hear me? This good-for-nothing omega can never be my son!" He bellowed. "Oh, so now his name has changed from Colby to good-for-nothing omega? Your own seed that was birthed by my womb? I don't understand you anymore, Fenris." *** It is one thing to receive hatred, but it becomes emotional death when that hatred is being served by a loved one, or worst still, family. And this is the pitiable fate of Colby. Colby the unloved boy. Colby the reject. Colby the general waste bin of Blood Hound pack. Being born as an omega and the first child of his ruthless father was not something Colby wanted for himself. Yet, it marked the beginning of his sufferings. His father who is the pack leader, hoped to have an alpha as his first child, but got devastated when he had Colby. His hatred and aggression towards Colby, got inflamed when Colby's one mistake costed the lives of his mate, his newly born alpha son, and the members of his pack. Will Colby survive the heat of his anger. Or will he get consumed by it?

Chapter 1 In My Father's Bedroom

COLBY'S POV

Today would forever remain a remarkable day of my life. A day to hold onto dearly as a balm to my broken soul.

If anyone ever told me that I would be here, sitting on father's bed, I would never have believed. I, Colby, finally stepped into my father's bedroom for the first time in my life.

The room was stunning. Of course, it was the pack leader's room. What was I expecting? A substandard room? Hell no! But I never for once imagined that it would be this elegant.

The walls were painted with two different colors; a perfect blend of cream and brown which artistically gave life to the room. The fine golden curtains were tied in a big knot and hung above the opened windows which let in sunlight. Father's study table stood beside the wall, close to the tall, majestic wardrobe. It was shining like it was just polished some seconds ago with a fine wax, and laying on it were pile of neatly arranged books.

Everything in this room looked enchanted like it was created by the moon goddess herself. It felt like heaven, and it made me feel more alive than ever. It felt like I was breathing in a different kind of air, one that was somehow fresher and purer than the one I was used to. But staying here actually opened the fresh wounds in my heart. It was just like I was looking at my favorite treat, tantalizingly close but still out of reach. I had always wished that things would change, that father would walk into my room one day and apologize, that he would finally tell me the words that I have been longing to hear.

But they would forever remain the same. Hopeless fantasies and wishes that could never come true. Father would never deign to show me such kindness. But I'm sure he would love and cherish the unborn child in mother's womb.

"Colby can you hear that?" Mother's gentle voice jolted me. I was carried away by my emotions and had forgotten that she was here in the room with me. As a matter of fact, she was the one who let me in.

"Hear what mother? The chirping of birds outside?" I asked, not knowing what she was talking about.

"No. The sound of dropping water. Oh Fenris has done it again." She tapped her forehead gently and closed her eyes.

"Oooh..." That was the only word my mouth managed to utter as she mentioned father's name.

"He did not turn off the faucet in the lavatory properly. He is usually doing this all the time." She complained with a calm voice and I shook my buttocks uncomfortably on the fluffy bedsheet. When she kept on talking about father, I felt as if I was trapped in a tiny room, with the walls closing in around me. The air felt thick and heavy, and I struggled to breathe. It was as if I was suddenly inhaling hydrogen sulfide.

"Can you help me turn it off?"

"Yes mother." I answered in the gentlest manner I could afford, trying so hard not to show my discomfort. Mother had always been so sweet to me and I wouldn't want her to feel that her efforts are not enough.

I stood up with a mild motion and walked barefooted on the tickling rug beneath my feet, heading towards the toilet and innocently shaking my arse as I ordered my footsteps carefully. I felt the intensity of her gaze burning my back as I walked, and I gulped down my saliva.

"Is she looking at me? Why is she looking at me now of all times? What is she thinking of right now?..." I could not stop the multitude of thoughts that swam in my head. Oh gracious moon goddess! I hate this feeling so much.

"Please stop looking at me." I said internally. When people looked at me when I'm walking, i tend to become disorganized.

And just as I expected, my once-careful strides turned to a lopsided gait. It was if all the blood in my legs suddenly took a short vacation. Within seconds, my two legs collided with each other and I saw my tiny self on the floor.

Her voice came next. "Colby are you alright?" She voiced with concern.

"Yes mother." I mumbled sheepishly even when I was sure that my small waist had definitely done a quick ninety degree rotation.

I turned off the faucet and came back to the bed. My hand picked up the big, pink comb that laid beside me on the bed, and I buried it inside her hair. My grip tightened on the comb and I moved it in and out of her hair, feeling a great joy as her silky hair caressed my fingers.

"You will have a sibling very soon." She said, rubbing her protruding stomach with care as I combed her hair.

"Yeah." I responded with a growing enthusiasm.

"So what do we name her?" She asked, and a giggle left my throat.

"It's going to be a boy, and we will name him Alan. Alan is a nice name."

She bursted into a funny laughter which also made me laugh. "You sound so sure. But I think the baby will be a girl and we will name her Aurora."

My mood changed in an instant, and I squeezed my face. "Mother i-i d-on't w-w-ant a si-s-ter." I stuttered with quivering lips.

She swiftly turned her head backwards and my hands left her hair, abandoning the comb in her hair.

"Colby what is the matter? Why did you say so?" She asked, her hazel eyes intently fixed on mine as she searched for any clue that could tell her why I suddenly felt sad.

"I am less a boy. Everybody says that. Especially father. I want the baby to be a boy. An alpha precisely. So father will stop hating me." I chewed my bottom lip and fiddled with the hem of my shirt.

"Listen to me Colby," She cupped my cheeks. "Your father does not hate you. You know his status as the pack leader is very demanding and stressful."

"But he behaves like he does not want me. He doesn't even look at me with the love that other fathers have for their children, nor does he play with me. I've tried my best to to be a good son, but it's never enough for him. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment from him." I replied with conviction. My voice had already started breaking, and tears had assembled in my blue eyes.

Father really hates me. He always did. The maliciousness in those eyes of his said it all.

"Oh come here my child." She said softly and embraced me. I rested my face on her soft breasts, inhaling her citrus and jasmine scent that soothed my nerves. "I love you Colby. And your father does too." She whispered.

As we hugged, I felt her body trembling. Her shoulders quivered beneath my touch and I felt a hot wetness soaking into the fabric of my shirt. I wondered what it was, not until I heard her muffled sob. She was crying.

Her tears quickened something in me and my own heaven's gate opened, letting out tears that flowed freely down her back.

"But..." I wanted to say something but she hushed me.

"Ssssh. No more buts, okay?" She said and I nodded my head in obedience.

We stayed like that, entangled in an affectionate embrace and enjoying the warmth our bodies provided. And just when I prayed that the hugging would last for a while, the door flung open and the person that we were discussing some minutes ago, marched in with blazing eyes that were solely fixed on me.

"What are you doing here?" He growled.

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