The Shadow Wolf's Second Life: They Bullied The Wrong Omega

Edgar dragged a hand over his face, letting out a long, exhausted sigh that sounded like he was questioning every life decision that had led him to this exact moment.

”My assistant will lead you there,” he muttered, resting his forehead against his palm.

”Assistant?” I echoed, tilting my head.

”Oliver,” Edgar called out flatly.

The air in the corner of the grand room shifted. Out of the quiet, velvet-draped shadows stepped a lean, impeccably dressed man with sharp gray eyes.

The moment he moved, his scent immediately hit my nose—cold, sharp, and metallic, like fresh rain on iron steel. It was the distinct, unmistakable aura of a predator who lurked in the dark, a silent hunter... an assassin.

This guy wasn’t just a basic casino assistant. He was a Gamma.

In the wolf hierarchy, Gammas were the ultimate shadow enforcers—tacticians, trackers, and elite killers who executed orders without a sound. They made great assassins. But I hadn’t been a Gamma, I was a...

Oliver gave a crisp, perfectly calculated bow toward Edgar before turning his icy gaze onto me. His eyes swept over my oversized hoodie, taking in my relaxed posture with a faint, discerning flicker of interest.

”Right this way, Miss Wells,” Oliver said, his voice smooth, even, and entirely devoid of warmth. So, they know my last name now, huh? Seems they did their homework.

It’s no wonder he didn’t ask when I mentioned my brother. I thought he just didn’t care, but turns out, he already got all the details sorted out.

I smirked beneath the shadow of my cap, falling into step right beside him as we exited the office.

”Nice scent,” I murmured softly under my breath, just loud enough for his sharp Gamma ears to pick up as the elevator doors opened. ”Iron and quiet footsteps. Edgar certainly keeps high-tier shadows around.”

Oliver’s stride didn’t falter, but his gray eyes cut sideways toward me, a sharp edge of intrigue breaking through his professional mask.

As the elevator doors began to slide shut, Edgar’s voice floated out from his office—soft, casual, but carrying a sharp, wicked edge that cut through the narrowing gap.

”If the pressure doesn’t kill you and the dust doesn’t either... then maybe a sharp claw just might do the job.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that, or if he had even intended for me to hear it. But I did. And my heart rate didn’t spike by a single beat. An assassin doesn’t fear the unknown; she just adapts to it.

The elevator descended deep into the sub-basement, the light shifting from warm gold to a dim, industrial blue. Heavy atmospheric weight began to press against the walls of the cab, leaking through the seams.

Oliver stood completely unfazed beside me. Gammas were lethal and rarely formed personal bonds because they were conditioned to be sacrificed for a pack’s glory. As the air grew thicker, Oliver’s icy gray eyes flicked to me, scanning for any sign of weakness.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction.

Heavy pressure was rooted in psychological and mental fortitude—a test of will over matter. My mind had been forged through high-altitude survival tactics, extreme pressure chambers, and decades of mental conditioning.

Not even an Alpha’s spectral wolf could make me bend my knee, let alone a man-made suppression matrix.

DING.

The elevator doors chimed and parted, revealing a vast, dimly lit corridor lined with reinforced steel doors and towering rows of forgotten archives.

”This is where I stop,” Oliver said smoothly, stepping to the side. ”I will wait right here for you. Once you finish the audit, I will escort you back to the office so you do not get lost.”

”Suit yourself,” I murmured.

I pulled out the runed steel key, unlocked the massive double doors of the vault archive, and stepped inside.

The pressure hit me instantly—a suffocating, invisible wall of pure force that would have dropped a normal Beta to their hands and knees, gasping for air. I simply took a deep, measured breath, letting my lungs adapt to the heavy atmosphere. Just as I thought, free workout.

My primary goal was simple: find the physical ledgers, finish the audit as quickly as possible, and get out to collect my ten thousand credits. For half a second, a fleeting burst of excitement flickered in my chest—I was sixteen, soon to be seventeen, and about to make an absurd amount of money for two hours of light reading.

Anyone in my shoes would be hopping in excitement.

I navigated the towering rows of steel shelves, searching for the specific monthly logs Edgar had described.

But all the while, there was something nagging at my senses, something pricking the hair on the back of my neck, and then finally, I felt it.

It took me far longer than it should have. In my past life, my senses would have picked it up before I even crossed the threshold. But this body’s natural instincts were pathetically dull.

I froze, instantly dropping into a low, defensive stance.

I couldn’t see anyone in the shadows, but I could feel them now. More than that—I could smell them. A formidable, heavy wolf aura, even while completely dormant, saturated the cold air. But that was the problem. The entire basement was thoroughly drenched in this distinct, dark scent, as if whoever owned it lived down here—like this vault was their personal den.

Has someone been lying in wait down here to ambush whoever comes down?

The worst-case scenario instantly took shape in my mind.

Fighting in an enclosed space with a weak vessel against an unknown predator was a guaranteed death sentence. Especailly a predator capable of spreading his presence so heavily without even doing anything or releasing any bloodlust.

I can’t stay here while I’m completely ill-prepared. I have to fall back and inform Edgar. Surely, he won’t assume I ran away from the pressure, right?

There was no telling, but I refused to take such risks.

I turned on my heel, backing away silently toward the specific left corridor I had taken deeper into the stacks, but then, my foot caught on something thick and solid sprawled across the aisle, and I lost my ’oh-so-wonderful’ balance.

I tipped backward, bracing myself for the brutal impact of hard concrete floor.

Instead, I slammed straight into a wall of solid muscle.

My head thudded hard against a broad, warm chest, and what came next was...

”Ugh...” a deep, raspy groan echoed right beside my ear and my eyes widened. I looked up. Why was there someone lying on the floor? If he hadn’t grunted just now, I’d have assumed it was a body, but...

He opened his eyes.