Nikto had accepted a long time ago that he would have never been able to bond with an Omega. Initially, it had to do with his disposition. His inherent aversion to social interaction. He never got along well with others. Alphas, Betas, Omegas — all equally irksome, they offered more frustrations than a genuine connection. Whether it was a blood relative or a coworker, every conversation or company is sandpaper on his skin, leaving him raw and irritated.

The booming laughs and the overly enthusiastic mannerisms of Alphas never fails to cause a strain to form on his forehead. But this was merely the tip of the iceberg. The constant pissing match with those that presented with this ‘gift’ was an unlimited source of stress. The incessant flexing of muscles and displays of dominance amongst themselves never ceased, and god forbid if there was something worth fighting for; the competitiveness would triple.

Betas were not much different. A lot looked at him with less admiration than they afforded other Alphas, treated him as if he were somehow broken for not conforming to the rules set in place. Others resented his Alpha status, and displayed a grudging deference that was more akin to contempt than respect. The rest were more calculating, they sensed an opportunity to leverage his status for their own gain. Flocked to him and displayed false friendliness, all while subtly angling for perks — as if he was some sort of minor celebrity. Their repulsive behaviour only deepened his cynicism.

Nikto had no patience for any of it.

And Omegas… they were the worst. Their neediness and insatiable demand for approval makes them the greatest pain in the arse to be around. They carried themselves like they owned the world, their every whimper or sigh would be met with the rest falling on their knees desperate to cater to an Omega’s every wish.

He had considered trying — his biology compelled him to. It was a struggle to ignore that fundamental drive. Still, he never stooped to the level of buying overpriced flowers and luxury chocolates, showering them with empty compliments, or metaphorically kissing their feet like so many of his kind did. Sure, they smelt nice, were nice to look at and often made his cock twitch, but the responsibilities that came with one was too much. Nikto never saw the appeal of bending over backwards to ‘woo’ an Omega. Their lack of attention didn't bother him in the slightest.

There were far less Omegas in existence than Alphas anyway. He didn't need to be mated to feel complete. Not to mention, he had seen what being bonded to an Omega did to an Alpha, how letting their biological impulses take over turned them into mindless servants, their every thought consumed by the need to please their weaker counterparts. He had no desire to fall into that trap. It would seem that Omegas stood at the top of the hierarchy and not the other way around like society would have everyone believe.

He had always been independent. Never asked anything from anyone. So he despised this expectation that he is somehow obligated to provide for everyone around him. That Alphas are supposed to be protectors. Reality was anything but that. Sure, some did try their hardest to fit into that role, though most just abuse their power. The neverending struggle to stay at the top of the hierarchy was gruelling. He doesn’t want to be a part of it any longer. The superficial bonds of society pack politics can do without him.

Nikto values solitude anyway.

Which is why he built this cabin miles away from civilization. He doesn’t want for anything or anyone now. As long as there’s firewood by the hearth, a full pantry and his four-legged companion is by his side. The Russian man is content with his existence. His pack is small, however they’re a tight knit family, all three of them he found due to sheer luck along the way. He trusts them with his life. He doesn’t need anyone else. Nikto thought he finally had it all, after the earlier years were less than adequate. Then his face, stolen from him by a cruel twist of fate. No one can stand to view his mangled features without grimacing, with immense pity in their eyes. How could they? He doesn’t even want to look at himself. The mirror in the bathroom still lies shattered from his fist. A casualty of his darkest moments. The moment he brings you home, a little fiery vixen, and pulls the front door shut, he can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. Nikto thinks he finally achieved true happiness. Those that he knew who are mated claims it’s the most magical thing in the world. He needed to see it for himself. They weren’t lying. Their words pale in comparison. And, well, he was starting to get lonely.

(Nikto doesnt know much english)