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This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
Kenan was dying. Should have died. If not from the elements and hypothermia- then from being without a pack for as long as he has. He accepted his fate when he laid on the decaying forest floor and felt far too warm for the winter's day it was. But then they found them, and now Kenan has to prove that he's worth saving, not only to the pack- but to himself.
There's gonna be hurt, there's gonna be comfort, and a whole lot of pack feels. Poor Kenan deserves all the love coming his way- but he has to suffer first...
Excerpt:
“Shit,” the shadow gasped. “Oliver, get Malachi on the phone and tell him to prepare for a critical Omega,” it ordered.Omega, the figure mentally screamed. This was bad bad bad bad. Omega was an old term- an ancient one. No self-respecting modern pack would use the term and follow the strict hierarchy it emerged from. No modern pack, but modern packs weren’t the only packs out there.
They let out a terrified whine once they realized exactly whose territory they staggered their way into. The shadow cursed again and bent over the shaking form. “Shh, little omega,” they cooed. “We’re not going to hurt you.”