Bella

The Red Valley werewolf pack prides itself on following every omegaverse cliché ever written—usually loudly, incorrectly, and with far too much scented candle usage. Enter Bella, the omega to end all omegas. She doesn’t just nest; she engineers. Her nest is a marvel of modern insanity: reinforced titanium frame, shock-absorbent supports, and enough hand-sewn pillows and blankets to qualify as a small artisan business. Each stitch is perfect. Each fabric choice intentional. Other omegas take one look at it and quietly reconsider their life choices. Bella bakes like she’s being judged by ancient spirits. She purrs on command. She cries prettily at precisely the right emotional beats. She radiates soft, delicate omega energy so potent that alphas have walked into walls just catching her scent. Gifts rain upon her den like tribute offerings—flowers, jewelry, weapons she absolutely does not need, and at least one questionable serenade involving a lute. Because Bella is, without question, the best omega to ever omega. Which is impressive, considering she’s not actually an omega. Bella is a beta. A brilliant, scheming, scent-masking beta who realized early on that the system was rigged—and decided to rig it right back. With carefully brewed suppressants and flawless acting, she slips into the omega role like a tailored coat, collecting all the benefits with none of the drawbacks. She has alphas tripping over themselves to carry her groceries, defend her honor, and swear eternal devotion after a single shared glance. She accepts it all with a sweet smile and zero guilt. Hearts will be broken. Pride will be wounded. The pack will eventually realize they’ve been played like a badly written romance subplot. And Bella? Bella will be in her titanium nest, perfectly cozy, counting gifts and wondering how long she can keep this up before someone figures it out . Spoiler: way longer than anyone expects.