Chapter 116 The Old Bloodlines (2)
Zoey regarded him for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I like that answer.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
“But I have another question.”
“I suspected you might.”
She grinned. “So, half-bloods are at the bottom of the hierarchy, and are called Omegas? But from everything I’ve read in NovelPhoenixs and watched in supernatural dramas, I always thought an Omega was a lone wolf,” Zoey frowned, her brow furrowing as she processed the terminology. “Someone who didn’t belong to a pack, and who chooses to live outside a pack structure.”
“In a technical sense, yes, many lone wolves are omegas,” Derrick clarified, gesturing slightly with one hand. “However, an Omega can be a wolf who lives outside the pack structure, either by choice or because they’ve been rejected or driven out. But in traditional werewolf society, the term is also used as a social designation for those who occupy the lowest position in the hierarchy. Most modern omegas aren’t lone wolves by choice; they are marginalized within pack territories because of their diluted lineage. Many of them actually prefer the formal designation of Omega because it sounds structured, rather than carrying the stigma of being labeled a half-blood by packs that still obsess over archaic blood purity.”
“Right, because high school social cliques apparently extend into immortal werewolf societies,” Zoey remarked dryly. “So, an Omega doesn’t necessarily mean someone who lives alone. It can also mean someone who has been pushed to the bottom of the social ladder.”
“Correct.”
“That’s horrible.” Zoey frowned. “And I suppose the people at the top have no intention of changing that arrangement.”
“Some do. Others believe the hierarchy is necessary to maintain order. The truth is that our society has existed for thousands of years, and traditions that old are difficult to dismantle, especially when the people who benefit from them are the ones responsible for preserving them.”
Zoey was quiet for a moment, considering that. Then suddenly, another question occurred to her. “Wait….tell me something—can a half-blood ever rise through the ranks and become an Alpha?”
Derrick stopped walking entirely. He turned to look down at her, a low, genuine chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You really have been saving up these questions, haven’t you?”
“Would you rather I asked them all at once and gave you a headache?”
“At least that way, I might have had the opportunity to prepare myself.”
“Well, you didn’t, so you’re just going to have to suffer.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “But why do you seem remarkably invested in our sociological structure today, Miss Brooks?”
“Well of course I have to be,” Zoey shot back, crossing her arms defensively, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “My best friend is currently locked in a master suite upstairs, sharing space with a three-thousand-year-old Lycan king who apparently ranks somewhere around supernatural royalty. I am basically collateral damage in a high-stakes fantasy drama, Derrick. I need to know the rules of engagement before I accidentally offend a regional warlord and get turned into throw rug.”
Derrick nodded slowly, the amusement in his dark eyes softening into profound respect. “A fair point. To answer your question: no, it is virtually impossible for a half-blood to hold the title of Alpha. There is no precedent for it across three millennia of recorded pack history. Being an Alpha requires more than simply being a strong werewolf. An Alpha must possess the strength, authority, and the kind of wolf that can command the submission of others. Bloodline plays a significant role in determining whether a wolf can develop that level of dominance.”
“So, it’s not just about being the strongest person in the room?”
“No. Physical strength matters, but the nature of the wolf matters just as much. When an Alpha challenges another wolf, the difference between their bloodlines and the strength of their beasts can determine the outcome. A wolf with a superior lineage may be able to suppress another wolf without even attacking.”
Zoey thought of what It’s said yesterday. About Jason on the university floor, unable to move while Alexander held him by the throat. Her fingers curled slightly around the strap of her bag.
“Like what Alexander did to Jason.”
Derrick’s expression became more serious.
“Yes. What happened between them was an extreme example, but it illustrates the difference. Alexander is not simply a powerful Alpha. He’s an original Lycan. The bloodlines of ordinary werewolves descend from the original transformation, and the difference between them and the beings who came before them is considerable.”
“Yeah, I noticed all that yesterday night, with you all bowing to him,” Zoey muttered. “Trust me, I noticed.”
He began walking again, and Zoey fell back into step beside him, and Derrick continued. “Three thousand years ago, when the very first human survivors successfully received Lycan blood and transformed into the original werewolves, every single one of them became an Alpha,” Derrick explained, his voice dropping into a quiet, narrative rhythm.
“They possessed wolves that were stronger, faster, and far more dangerous than those of the generations that followed, because their transformation was fueled by direct, unadulterated progenitor blood. Those first transformed men and women became the foundation of the original werewolf bloodlines.”
“And their children inherited that strength?”
“Yes, particularly when two of the first transformed individuals had children together. Their offspring inherited a powerful combination of the original bloodlines…they became offsprings with terrifyingly powerful apex traits. But when the transformed individuals had children with humans who had not undergone the transformation, the resulting bloodlines were generally less potent.”
Zoey tilted her head. “Wait. I thought you said the first humans became werewolves because of the Lycan blood. What about the humans who survived the plagues but never received it?”
“They remained human. The transformation only occurred in those who received the blood through the original magical process. The point is that the descendants of the first transformed individuals inherited varying degrees of that original power, depending on their ancestry.”
He glanced sideways at her, gauging her comprehension. “But as those turned individuals began intermarrying with ordinary human survivors who had weathered the ancient plagues, the potency began to diffuse. And across three thousand years? Imagine how catastrophically diluted werewolf blood has become due to generational intermarriage. Even wolves who desperately wanted to preserve their bloodlines would frequently find themselves imprinting on ordinary humans instead. And once a werewolf imprints on a human, they are bound for life, pulling their descendants further away from the pure strain.”
“Right. Sorry. I think my brain is beginning to overheat.”
“Take your time.”
“No, I want to understand this.” Zoey gestured between them. “Because if the first werewolves were so powerful, and their children inherited that strength, then why are the old bloodlines still so important? Wouldn’t every generation eventually become more powerful through intermarriage?”
“Not necessarily. The opposite can happen. Like I said, over thousands of years, bloodlines have mixed and diluted. Werewolves have married humans, half-bloods, and members of other packs. Even when two werewolves marry, their descendants do not automatically inherit the same strength as their most powerful ancestors. The original potency of those first transformations has become increasingly uncommon.”
“So the further you get from the original bloodlines, the less likely you are to inherit that kind of power.”
“Generally speaking, yes.” Derrick paused before adding, “And there is another complication. Werewolves don’t always choose their mates according to family expectations. Some imprint on humans. Others fall in love with people from less influential bloodlines. Once a werewolf forms that kind of bond, it is not something that can simply be dismissed because the family disapproves.”
Zoey’s expression softened slightly at the mention of mates. She knew enough about Iris and Alexander now to understand that the word carried a weight she had never imagined before.
“Imprinting,” she repeated. “That’s what happens when a werewolf finds someone they’re bonded to?”
“In simple terms, yes. The bond can be extraordinarily powerful, and for many werewolves, it is permanent. It can override the preferences of their families, their social standing, and sometimes even their own expectations of what their lives should look like.”
Zoey looked ahead, watching the sunlight fall across the path. “Then I suppose Iris and Alexander have already thrown a rather large wrench into the expectations of your society.”
Derrick gave her a sidelong glance. “That would be one way to describe it.”
“Because she’s human?”
Derrick hesitated for a bit before he answered her. “Her situation is more complicated than that, but yes, her connection to Alexander is unusual.”
“Unusual?” Zoey repeated, giving him a pointed look. “Derrick, your original Lycan is three thousand years old, and my best friend is a university student who was cheated on by a werewolf. Now she’s his mate. I think we’ve moved well beyond unusual.”
He laughed again, and Zoey decided she was beginning to enjoy the sound more than she should.
“Perhaps we have.”
“But you still haven’t answered one important question.”
“Which is?”