Mother and Sons

Astrid's POV

Mother and Sons

I haven't been myself since Rolo was branded a traitor and cast out of the pack. I can't stop thinking about what he must be going through right now, what he is feeling, how he is feeling, where he is staying if he had even found shelter. I know no one will take him in or offer him help, not even humans would dare. He's alone, completely abandoned.

His present situation made him a monster, feared and hated by all, not even the whores will let him into their place. As of now, his only friends will be the rogues, the very same rogues he had fought against his whole life.

As I sat there, my gaze drifted to the hidden passage where Rolo and I had once escaped together. A familiar longing welled up inside me, an urge to run away from this place again. Somehow, I now envied Rolo, he is free, free from that pack, even though I would not want to leave this pack marked as a traitor, I still see the light in his freedom, at least, he won't have to see any of these Alphas whose ego were stronger than they are in person.

The thought of my escape quickly turned into action as I rose and rushed to the door. I didn't need to pack anything; that would only slow me down. All that mattered was getting away from this cursed place. Even if it meant being branded a traitor, I would accept it. I just needed to leave, I stood up and ran to the door.

But as I reached for the door to the secret passage, I realized it was locked from the other side. I knocked on it, pushed against it, and even shifted back to my original wolf form to try and force it open with my wolf strength, but it was of no use. The door wouldn't budge. Ragnar, my uncle, or should I say my husband, must have known about the passage. He was the only one who could have locked it from the other side, he is just the most wicked thing I know.

This couldn't be happening; it was my only escape route, I can't rain here forever, not as an Omega with no say. And as if being an omega, bound by the constraints of my nature, wasn't enough of a curse, my father, still treats me like a child, had will always send some self-acclaimed "wise women" to educate me on "proper behavior." Even after I had borne three grown sons, he insisted on viewing me as a little child.

I had been locked in this room ever since the so-called judgment, did I just say Judgement? That was the definition of injustice. That was just the closest anyone who is not an Alpha could get to justice in the world of Werewolves. Here I am, kept away from the outside world like a common dog in a cage, left to wither in isolation. Only my children, my brothers, and Freydis could visit me. No one else. And even their visitation, they can't just come, unless permitted by my father or uncle. And now, even my escape route had been blocked. How cruel this world is!

Sometimes, I just envied the Mondaine, the humans, in their world, they have this saying that "all men are equal", everyone is born equal, and you can struggle to achieve relevance in the society, unlike here when some are born Alphas and other like me born an Omega, who like never gain any relevance in the society.

Frustrated, I collapsed to the floor, reverting to my human form, licking my wounds like the ordinary dog that I have been reduced to. But then, I heard footsteps outside the door. Hearing this, I remained still, ears perked, trying to catch any clue about who it could be.

My heart raced. Was it Ragnar, coming to torment me again with his sharp words and cold eyes? I felt a familiar fear creeping in, and in a fit of panic, I turned back to the secret door, pounding on it, hoping it would give way under my desperation before the other door would open to reveal whoever it might be. Suddenly, the door behind me swung open, and I turned to see whp they were. They were my three sons; Bjorn, Leif, and Styrbjorn, they were just there, standing in the doorway looking at how frantic and frustrated I was.

"Mother," Bjorn said softly as he rushed to my side, pulling me into a firm embrace. "Stop, you'll hurt yourself." His voice was calm but urgent, and I let myself sink into his arms, feeling a wave of relief. It was them... my boys.

Bjorn's strong arms held me tightly as he tried to soothe me. "Mom, what's happening?" he asked, his concern clear in his eyes, but I didn't respond. I didn't want to burden him with my pain.

Leif, always the more thoughtful one, stepped forward, holding something in his hands. "The prince gave us this for you," he said, his voice hesitant. "He told us not to say it was from him, but we thought you'd want to know." He held out a silver diadem adorned with tiny dragon-shaped jewels.

At that moment, the storm inside me calmed. I took the diadem, running my fingers over the cool, smooth metal, admiring its beauty despite myself. My heart pounded, but then I set it aside on the nightstand with a sigh. Did Ragnar really think a trinket would make me forget everything? They kept me here like a prisoner, and he thought a piece of jewelry would make me happy.

"Mother," Styrbjorn murmured, leaning against my legs. I stroked his hair, feeling a mixture of love and frustration. Bjorn stood back, observing me with concern, unable to fully grasp what I felt. As an alpha, he couldn't comprehend the weight of an omega's sorrow