The Omega Tribrid: Claimed by Three Kings

The first thing Seraphina heard every morning was the sound of the kitchen door being kicked open.

It always happened before sunrise, when the sky outside the pack house was still dark and the cold air of the forest crept through the cracks in the wooden walls. Warriors would come in from their night patrols, loud and careless, dropping their muddy boots on the floor she had cleaned only hours before.

Seraphina was always awake before they arrived.

She slept in a narrow storage room beside the kitchen where sacks of grain and broken tools were kept. The room had no window and barely enough space for the thin blanket she called a bed. When winter came, the cold crawled through the stone floor and wrapped around her bones like ice.

But she had learned not to complain.

Complaining only made things worse.

The moment the door burst open that morning, a deep voice echoed through the kitchen.

“Omega. Get up.”

Seraphina pushed herself off the floor immediately.

Her body ached from the long day before. Her hands were raw from scrubbing the pack house floors and washing clothes soaked with blood from the warriors’ training. Even lifting the heavy water buckets had become painful.

Still, she lowered her head and stepped out of the storage room.

Three warriors stood in the doorway, their large forms blocking the weak grey light outside. Their wolves were strong, their bodies powerful. Compared to them Seraphina looked fragile and small.

One of them tossed a bundle of dirty clothes onto the floor in front of her.

“Wash these before breakfast,” he ordered.

Another warrior glanced around the kitchen and frowned at the clean tables.

“You missed a spot yesterday,” he said coldly. “Do it again.”

Seraphina nodded quietly.

“Yes.”

Her voice was soft, almost swallowed by the silence.

The men were already leaving when the third warrior suddenly paused. His gaze slid toward her and a cruel smile formed on his face.

“You know tonight is the coming of age ceremony,” he said.

Seraphina did not answer.

The ceremony happened once every year when wolves who had reached adulthood gathered before the pack to celebrate their strength and the possibility of finding their destined mate.

For most wolves it was the most important night of their lives.

For Seraphina it was only another reminder of what she was not.

The warrior laughed softly.

“Imagine an omega like you finding a mate,” he mocked. “That would be a tragedy for the poor man.”

The other warriors laughed as they stepped outside.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Silence filled the kitchen again.

Seraphina remained standing in the middle of the room for a moment before bending down to pick up the clothes. The smell of sweat and blood clung to the fabric.

She carried the bundle toward the washing basin.

Her reflection appeared faintly in the water.

Dark hair fell loosely around her shoulders, tangled and uneven because she rarely had time to care