Alpha Theo: Legacy Of The Banished Omega

A New Pup Has Being Born

The words struck Damian like a lightning bolt. Joy, shock, and worry surged all at once, tangling in his chest. It was unexpected, and much more earlier than planned. But then, he was on his feet before the apprentice had even finished speaking. “Lucian, handle—”

But Lucian and Matt were already shaking their heads. “We’re coming with you,” Lucian said firmly.

Without another word, they followed the apprentice and warriors at a near run, the corridors blurring past them until they reached Damian’s residence. Inside, the healer was already hard at work, her hands moving with practiced speed.

The sharp cries of Ella’s pain cut through the air, and each one made Damian’s wolf bristle with restless agitation. Every instinct in him screamed to go to her side, but the healer’s strict order to wait outside chained him in place.

Then—suddenly—the piercing wail of a newborn filled the air. Damian froze. For a heartbeat, time itself seemed to hold still. Then a broad, unrestrained smile broke across his face.

The healer stepped out, her expression warm. “A healthy male pup, Alpha.”

A deep laugh of relief and pride rumbled from Damian’s chest. He pulled Lucian and Matt into a tight embrace, the three men sharing in his joy. Without delay, he strode into the birthing room.

Ella was asleep, her face pale but peaceful, exhaustion softening her features. Damian brushed a lock of silver hair from her face before turning his attention to the tiny bundle in the healer’s arms. His son.

The pup had Damian’s sharp features but the unmistakable silver hair of his mother, shimmering softly under the lantern light.

Damian’s voice was low and reverent. “You’ll be strong… stronger than me.”

Word of the Alpha’s heir spread through the pack like wildfire, carrying waves of excitement and pride. Before long, Damian instructed Lucian to send a letter to Theo, sharing the news and explaining that his planned visit to the Dam-Nighade Pack would be postponed.

----

While Theo received Damian’s letter with joy, his heart swelled with relief and pride. The news was nothing short of a blessing. He read the words over and over, almost afraid they might fade from the page: A son has been born to me. An heir to the throne.

Without delay, Theo summoned the elders and high-ranking officials to the council chamber. The carved wooden doors opened to admit men and women in, everyone who had pledged their die-hard loyalty for the survival of the pack. The chamber was soon alive with warm voices and bright eyes as Theo relayed the news.

A rumble of cheers filled the air. Warriors clasped each other’s shoulders in congratulations, and a few elders closed their eyes in silent prayers of thanks to the Moon Goddess.

Yet not all hearts in the room mirrored Theo’s happiness.

High-ranking official Peter, seated near the far end of the table, wore a courteous smile that did not touch his eyes. His mind was already moving like a wolf circling prey. A new alpha has been born… Damian’s own blood. That means a future leader who will one day lay claim to this territory. And when that day comes, Theo’s reign will be nothing but a temporary footnote.

The thought pleased him in a way he dared not show. He kept his voice even, his congratulations polite, but his mind whispered of opportunities to come.

Far from the council chamber, another letter was making its way to darker hands. Samantha’s mother had wasted no time in writing to her daughter. The inked words were sharp and unforgiving—scolding.

Samantha unfolded it eagerly, expecting words of praise from her mother. Instead, her eyes narrowed as she read the sharp, slanted handwriting.

> Samantha,

I have just received word of the birth of Damian’s heir. Do you realize what this means? Every moment you waste is a nail in the coffin of our plan. You have delayed long enough. The child will grow, and with him, Damian’s power will be unshakable. If you truly wish to see your place secured, you must act—now.

Do not disappoint me again.

The letter ended without love, without warmth—only the weight of command.

Samantha’s lips curled into a bitter smile. Her mother’s words burned, but they also lit a dangerous spark within her. She rose from the edge of her bed, pacing slowly, her mind spinning with the possibilities.

Getting into the alpha's estate was still a long way, even though she is still holding the position of second-in-command to Paula. As long as she remained in the slave quarters, Samantha’s influence would be limited. But if only there was an opening for her credited—or better yet, removed entirely from the quarters—Samantha could slip into her place.

She thought of Paula’s trust in her, of how much damage a well-placed lie could do. Or perhaps… something far less subtle.

Her fingers trailed across the letter again. Fine, Mother. You want me to move faster? Then faster it shall be.

By the time night fell, Samantha was already plotting the first of many steps to hasten her plans into motion. And in the shadows of her ambition, the news of Damian’s heir was no longer a celebration—it was a countdown.

---

With the arrival of Gamma Jihoo to the grand Gamma’s estate, preparations to welcome him properly began in earnest. One of the first matters was staffing—more hands would be needed to keep the estate running smoothly. This meant an increase in the number of maids, especially for both the Alpha’s and Gamma’s estates.

And that was when Samantha’s long-awaited chance presented itself.

Paula, the head maid in charge of servant assignments, had been tasked with recruiting more properly groomed and obedient maids. Her orders were clear: only the best mannered, most presentable girls from the servants’ quarters would be chosen. When word of this opportunity swept through the slave quarters, it was like a spark had been thrown into dry straw. Excitement rippled through the maids—eyes bright, voices buzzing—because everyone knew that being chosen to serve in the Alpha’s or Gamma’s household meant better food, better clothing, and, most importantly, an escape from the filth and cramped misery of the slave quarters.

But Samantha… played her part differently.

While the other girls chattered and boasted about how Paula would surely pick them, Samantha wore a mask of polite disinterest. She acted as though she was far too focused on her daily chores to bother dreaming about such things. Her hands stayed busy in her position, her voice soft, her gaze demure—yet her mind was sharp and calculating.

When Paula began privately considering her choices, Samantha made her move. Each day, she found a way to slip Paula a small token: a few coins she had hidden away, a finely polished bead or trinket that had once belonged to another maid, even a small pouch of dried herbs for “relaxation.” They were gifts carefully chosen—not too lavish to raise suspicion, but enough to feed Paula’s greed.

The other maids noticed Samantha’s increased kindness to Paula but saw nothing threatening in it. To them, she was just trying to be on good terms with their superior, as the second in command. But in Samantha’s mind, every offering was a brick laid on the road toward her escape.

And it worked.