Zoey

The Red Valley werewolf pack was a masterclass in omegaverse clichés. Seriously, if there was a Hall of Fame for overdone tropes, they’d all have their own wing—alphas brooding under full moons, omegas swooning at the faintest whiff of a scent, betas stuck awkwardly in the middle of everything, and dramatic, unnecessary love triangles. Enter Zoey. A beta, yes, but not your garden-variety obedient middle child. No, Zoey had a secret. A terrible, awful, world-shaking secret. Or at least, it would be terrible and awful if anyone in the pack ever discovered it. You see, Zoey was the author of “Chews Yur M4te,” officially the worst paranormal romance ever to exist in printed form. And yet, somehow, inexplicably, it was a national bestseller. Zoey’s writing style was… unique. Forgetting her character names mid-chapter? Intentional. Rewriting a full moon scene five times with varying levels of angst and totally different eye colors for the same alpha? Masterstroke. Love triangles that appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared in ways that defied both logic and physics? Artistic vision. Every cliché, every trope that the Red Valley pack embodied daily was carefully, meticulously, shamelessly exploited in her book. She wasn’t just writing about her pack; she was monetizing them. Every time someone grumbled about another predictable pack drama, Zoey smiled quietly and counted the royalties rolling in. Sure, she “couldn’t write” according to every editor who’d ever read a chapter—but most of that was a brilliant performance. As long as the pack didn’t catch on to where her extra income was coming from, life was perfect. She might be a beta, but Zoey had a power far greater than any alpha’s growl: she could turn their clichés into cash. And maybe, just maybe, if anyone tried to stop her, they’d find themselves as a plot twist in her next chapter.