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The Heir No Alpha Could Claim [SkyNani]

Fanfiction

As the only Omega heir of the Four Fang Alliance, Nani Hirunkit is untouchable-protected by power, intelligence, and the unwavering loyalty of his Alpha friends. He doesn't need a mate. He doesn't want one. But his mere existence draws the eyes of e...

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Chapter 10: Danger Approach

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The Night Blackridge Moved
The Safehouse Breach (Urban District, Near Human Settlement)
The first sign was the howl of an Omega.
Then—gunfire.
A hidden F4 safehouse, disguised as a normal apartment complex, exploded from the inside. Reinforced doors burst open, metal locks twisted and mangled like they had been torn apart by something inhuman.
The scent of burnt silver filled the air. A trap.
F4 enforcers barely had time to react before dark-cloaked figures poured in.
Blackridge.
They didn’t hesitate.
Omegas screamed. Some ran toward secret exits—only to be pulled back. Others fought, instincts kicking in. It didn’t matter.
A Blackridge Alpha grabbed a struggling Omega, his fangs grazing the side of their throat. Possession.
By the time the backup team arrived, the building was empty.
Except for the scent of fear and blood.
---
A High-End Omega Shelter (Business District, Near F4’s Influence Zone)
A high-end shelter, protected under F4’s name, was considered untouchable.
Tonight, it was a target.
Security cameras cut out at exactly 11:32 PM.
The first sign of an attack was when the lights flickered.
Then—the scent of something wrong.
The guards barely had time to shift before silver-laced darts embedded into their necks.
Paralysis poison.
Three minutes. That’s all it took for Blackridge to infiltrate.
The Omegas inside weren’t fighters. They weren’t part of the war. They were just trying to survive.
And yet—
The ones that didn’t submit were dragged away.
The ones that did were left in terror.
Not a single Alpha had been killed.
They didn’t need to kill.
Tonight wasn’t about a body count.
Tonight was about taking.
---
A Trading Hub (Warehouse District, Near the Pack Borders)
This wasn’t just a raid.
It was a message.
A large-scale trading hub controlled by F4’s business branch suddenly erupted into fire.
Silver-laced flames burned through cargo, weapons, and supplies.
When F4 warriors arrived, they weren’t met with a battlefield.
They were met with a mass execution.
Blackridge Alphas stood amidst collapsing structures, watching.
They didn’t run. They didn’t hide.
They had already won.
Omegas were missing.
And in their place—a single Blackridge sigil, burned into the ground.
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