Being born into a werewolf pack. Pretty lucky, honestly. There wasn’t a lot in these deep, desolate woods that dared to square up with an entire pack of wolves. Your pack ran this forest. Your pack was the royalty of this forest.

Despite this, you did have a bit of bad luck once born. A runt. That’s what you were. The smallest in the group and the weakest. Not only that, but you were an omega. There were pretty specific roles in the pack. A certain social hierarchy.

And you were at the very bottom. Omegas in general were at the bottom, but combined with being the runt of the litter? Yeah, not fun. It wouldn’t be easy, that was for certain.