Savannah's POV
My mother always told me that omegas like us were born under a shadow. It was one of those warnings every omega mother whispered to her daughter, not meant to wound but to prepare us for the harsh reality ahead.
Being omega meant walking a razor's edge every moment of your existence. One misstep, one display of anything beyond perfect submission, and the pack would tear you apart without hesitation.
Too independent. Too outspoken. Too defiant. Too human.
The words they used to break us down were endless, wielded by aging alphas who believed they owned every breath we took. They knew exactly what they were doing when they crafted these impossible standards.
Most omegas never escaped the fate of becoming mere breeding stock. Those lucky enough to secure marriage contracts weren't much better off. The only difference between a wife and a rut toy was how many alphas had access to your body.
Respect between mates was a fairy tale. Love was even more ridiculous.
