How a Low Omega Becomes a Royal Princess

"Father," I said firmly, though my voice trembled with suppressed emotion. "I want to return to the palace. I can’t stay here anymore."

My father’s response was immediate, his tone as steady and commanding as I remembered. "Come home, Isabelle. Your presence is needed. William… he’s been murdered."

The words hit me like a thunderclap. My breath hitched, and my legs threatened to give way. William, my eldest brother. The cruel shadow of my childhood. Memories surfaced—hidden bruises, tear-filled nights, his disdainful sneer. Yet even now, the bond of blood tethered me to grief. He was my brother, after all.

"Logan…" I managed to whisper, thinking of my second elder brother, the only light in a dark world. "Does he know?"

"He does. We’re waiting for you, Isabelle."

The mind-link severed, leaving me staring blankly out the window. The barren trees swayed gently in the wind, but I felt no comfort in their movement.

That evening, I sat across from Gabriel at the dining table. The man I had once given my heart to. The man I had sacrificed everything for. He sat in silence, his attention fixed on his plate. I searched his face for any trace of the love we once shared, but all I saw was cold ambition.

A soft knock interrupted the quiet tension. An Omega entered, bowing respectfully. "Alpha, you have a visitor."

Gabriel set his fork down with a faint clink. "Let him in."

The door opened, revealing one of Gabriel’s closest friends. The man greeted Gabriel warmly and took the seat beside him, barely sparing me a glance. Their conversation flowed easily, their words shifting into the ancient language of the kingdom—a tongue they assumed I couldn’t understand.

"So, Charlotte is really going to be your Luna, huh?" his friend teased.

Gabriel smirked, a small, self-satisfied curve of his lips. "Yes. It’s for the future of the Ironclaw Pack. Her connections will strengthen us."

"Don’t lie to yourself. You care about her, don’t you? That’s why you’re marrying her instead."

A soft chuckle escaped him, and it was like a dagger plunging into my chest. "Of course. Charlotte means a lot to me."

I gripped my fork tightly, forcing myself to remain still. They didn’t know. They didn’t know that I, far from a simple Omega, understood every word. They didn’t know I was no ordinary woman.

I am a princess. A hidden heir to a royal bloodline that traces back to the Moon Goddess herself. The ice bloodline—my bloodline—bestows powers few can comprehend. The mark of that power, a glowing white vein etched delicately along my wrist, is invisible to those ignorant of its significance. Upon learning my bloodline, it spread like a wildfire in the kingdom. My identity, too dangerous to reveal because of the controversial powers I had, was a secret my family guarded fiercely.

And yet, few of the nobles knew who the princess really was—me.

Weeks ago, I was filled with hope. I had discovered I was pregnant, and my heart swelled at the thought of a child. I wanted to propose to Gabriel, to solidify our bond. I confided in Yna, my closest friend, who had been thrilled—until she handed me her phone with trembling hands.

"You need to see this," she whispered.

Confused, I took the phone and froze at the screenshot displayed. It was Charlotte’s post. The woman who had always been by Gabriel’s side.

[Finally, he proposed to me! I knew this day would come. I can’t believe it happened now.]

My chest tightened. "I… I didn’t see this before."

"That’s because she blocked you," Yna said quietly. "Not just her—Gabriel’s mother and some pack members did too. They didn’t want you to find out."

Trembling, I scrolled through the comments, bile rising in my throat.

[You’re a perfect match!]

[So glad that Omega isn’t going to be our Luna.]

[Charlotte is so much better. Thank the Moon Goddess!]

And then Gabriel’s mother… her words burned like acid.

[I always knew Charlotte was the right choice. That Omega was never good enough for my son.]

The betrayal was suffocating. And the pack celebrated it.

The same week, the eclipse cast an eerie glow across the sky, a reminder of the darkness that had already taken root in my life. That same week, my most vulnerable moment arrived.

It started as a sharp pang in my lower abdomen, then escalated into searing pain that struck like lightning. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the cold floor of my room, clutching my stomach as waves of agony ripped through me.

“Gabriel,” I called through our mind-link, my voice trembling with desperation. “Please… save our baby!”

The silence that followed was deafening. I reached out again, begging, pleading for him to answer. But the bond remained cold and empty. Gabriel never responded.

The pain intensified, twisting through me until I could no longer hold back the screams. Tears poured down my face, mixing with the sweat that clung to my skin. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps as I whispered prayers to the Moon Goddess, pleading for a miracle.

“Please,” I sobbed, my voice breaking. “Please, don’t take my baby from me.”

But no one came. Not Gabriel. Not the Goddess. No one.

Alone, I lay curled on the floor, clutching the life that was slipping away from me. The emptiness that followed was worse than the pain, a hollow void that swallowed me whole.

I woke up feeling the emptiness within me. That was when I realized I lost something really important. My baby.

When the miscarriage struck, I had clung to hope. Gabriel would come. He had to come. But I waited in that sterile hospital room for three days. He never came.

Now, as I listened to him laugh and plan his grand ceremony with Charlotte, the pain I thought I’d buried resurfaced.

"Are you sure she doesn’t understand us?" his friend asked.

Gabriel glanced at me, dismissive. "She can’t. She’s just a lowly Omega."

My nails dug into my palm, grounding me against the storm of emotions swirling within. He didn’t even know I was aware of his engagement. They all thought I was a fool.

I stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. Gabriel didn’t even look up as I turned and left the room.

The cold wind outside bit at my skin, but it was nothing compared to the frost hardening my heart. Years of humiliation and heartbreak ended here.

No more.