Reborn Omega: Avenge Herself Like an Alpha

Chapter 1 A Tragic Death

Aubrey Mary’s POV

I was going to die, and the killer would be my own sister.

The moment she appeared in the sealed intensive care unit of the Shadowmoon Pack’s Level-Four Virology Research Center, where I was staying, I knew she had come to take my life.

She had no reason to be here. Unless… she was here to make sure I would never leave this room alive.

“Other werewolves infected with the Lupine Virus die screaming in pools of their own blood under the first full moon. But you?” Bailey Mary stood beside my bed, towering over me, a mocking smirk tugging at her lips. “You not only survived; you didn’t even become contagious. A perfect test subject. These past three years—has the life of a lab rat treated you well?”

I stared at her, my throat too dry to form words.

For three years, the virus had eaten away at my body. Now I was a skeletal shell covered in tubes and needles. Pain had distorted my face beyond recognition; I couldn’t even shift into my wolf form anymore.

My claws, once sharp as blades, were now too fragile to slice through paper. My keen sense of smell, once able to pick out the scent of blood from miles away, now burned painfully from the sharp tang of disinfectant in this very room.

And Bailey, she was still beautiful, still powerful. If anything, she had become even more beloved by the pack.

She twirled a syringe in her hand, filled with a pale yellow liquid that glistened in the light.

“Oh, this? It’s the anti-viral serum they finally developed just yesterday. You’ve clung to life this long, all for this, haven’t you? They took pity on your suffering, so the moment it was ready, they prepared a dose just for you. All you have to do is take the shot—you’ll be cured! Aubrey, don’t you want it?”

I did. I wanted it desperately.

I shut my eyes, burying the despair welling up inside me.

Of course, I wanted it. But now that the serum was in my dear sister’s hands, I knew today would likely be my last. After all, I had only contracted the Lupine Virus because of Bailey.

Five years ago, the Alpha King who ruled over all werewolf packs had died unexpectedly, leaving no heir behind. The once-unified werewolf clans fractured immediately. After a bloody struggle, the land had split between North and South.

The southern werewolves, working with evil sorcerers, engineered a virus targeting the unique physiology of northern werewolves.

They called it the Lupine Virus. Once infected, northern werewolves would lose their bond with their wolf, their organs would rapidly fail, and they would die in agony and despair.

the Shadowmoon Pack. Bailey

hadn’t died. My condition progressed slowly, and

They drained my blood, cut my flesh, hoping to extract whatever was fighting the virus—to create a vaccine that could save

if I endured long

it wasn’t just the virus. My entire life, Bailey had used

was an idiot when it came to medicine; her fame as a brilliant medical prodigy was stolen from

reason I had never awakened my wolf was

become Bailey’s stepping stone, the hatred nearly drove me mad. But I couldn’t die, not yet. I hadn’t had

will to live, saying I was

hell with

three years of torment so they would hurry up and make that serum—so I could survive long enough to exact

yesterday—the serum had been completed. But the thing that could save my life was now dangling in

to die. And honestly, I’m not afraid of you anymore; no one would believe anything you say. So here’s the deal—give me the combination to your

why

the first time I’ve ever known… a person

wanted to wring out the last bit of

“You won’t tell me?”

important than your life? You’re not even a wolf

out a cold laugh

unmoved, Bailey grew spiteful and played

Mr. Miguel is getting engaged today—to his childhood sweetheart, Mariana. That wench! She helped me ruin you; she’s

Alpha in the northern

name in so long. Hearing it now

voice; marrying Henry had been her dream. But Mariana had stolen

regretted it too. I regretted it every day

only I hadn’t fallen in love with that man—if I hadn’t clung so desperately

have been drugged,

nightmare surged back again. Regret, hatred—they

to

filled with

foolish hope. She would only