After My Alpha Broke Our Bond for an Omega

I dressed before dawn. Jeans. Boots. A jacket that didn't belong to any pack. I braided my hair tight and checked my reflection in Zoey's bathroom mirror. The dead mark on my neck was fading—just a shadow now, like a bruise that wouldn't heal.

I crossed the grounds to the main pack house. The stone was cold under my palm when I pushed the door open. A wolf I didn't know looked up from the front desk.

"I need to see the Lycan Prince," I said.

He blinked. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

He opened his mouth. I waited. He must have seen something in my face because he picked up the phone instead of arguing.

Five minutes later, I was standing outside Jameson's study.

I knocked once. His voice came through the door. "Come in."

The study was all dark wood and leather. Bookshelves lined three walls. A massive desk sat near the window. Jameson stood behind it, reading something on a tablet. He looked up when I entered.

The jasmine-and-thunderstorm scent hit me again. Stronger this time. My wolf stirred—not awake, but aware. I ignored it.

"Lauren." He set the tablet down. "Sit."

I sat. The chair was too comfortable. I didn't let myself sink into it.

Jameson studied me. His eyes were gray in the morning light. Controlled. Patient. I got the sense he could outwait anyone in this room.

I didn't make him wait.

"I want to train under Blackveil's warriors," I said. "Earn a rank through the Gamma-track trial. The full trial. No accommodations. No exceptions."

His expression didn't change. "You've read the requirements."

"Obstacle courses. Strategy tests. One-on-one combat against ranked fighters. Tactical simulation under live conditions. Pass rate is thirty-two percent for wolves with full shifts." I recited it from memory. I'd found Blackveil's public warrior documentation in Zoey's bookshelf last night. "I don't have a shift. I'm aware."

"Then you know the odds."

"I know I can do it."

Jameson leaned back in his chair. He was quiet for a long moment. I didn't fill the silence. I'd learned that trick from him without meaning to.

"Why?" he asked finally.

I met his eyes. "Because I need to know I can stand on my own. Without a mate. Without a wolf. Just me."

Something shifted in his expression. Not pity. Something else. He nodded once.

"You'll report to Marcus Vane at dawn tomorrow. He'll assign your trial schedule. If you fail a phase, you're out. If you quit, you're out. No second chances."

"Understood."

I stood. Turned toward the door.

"Lauren."

I looked back.

Jameson's eyes flashed gold for half a second. He locked it down fast, but I saw it. "Don't expect it to be easy."

"I don't," I said.

I left. The door clicked shut behind me. I was halfway down the hall when I realized my hands were shaking.

Not from fear. From something else.

---

Dawn came too fast.

I met Marcus Vane at the training yard. He was tall, lean, with the kind of face that gave nothing away. He looked me over once.

"You're the wolfless she-wolf," he said.

I didn't correct him. "Yes."

"First phase is combat trials. One-on-one. You'll face three ranked fighters this week. Win two out of three, you move forward. Lose, you're done."

"Who am I fighting?"

Marcus smiled. It wasn't friendly. "You'll find out when you step into the ring."

The first fighter was a Delta named Garrett. He was fast. I wasn't. He had me on the ground in under a minute.

The second fighter was a Gamma named Iris. She was stronger. I lasted two minutes.

I walked back to Zoey's cabin with bruises blooming across my ribs and a split lip that wouldn't stop bleeding. Zoey took one look at me and reached for the first aid kit.

"How bad?" she asked.

"I lost both."

She pressed gauze to my lip. "You going back tomorrow?"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Good."

That night, I opened my notebook. I wrote down everything I remembered. Garrett's footwork. Iris's tells before she struck. The angles they used. The mistakes I made.

I didn't sleep much.

The whispers started on day three.

I heard them in the training yard. In the dining hall. Passing wolves who thought I couldn't hear.

*She's only here because of the Prince.*

*Favoritism.*

*She doesn't even have a wolf.*

I kept my head down. I showed up at dawn. I lost my third bout. My fourth. By the end of the first week, I hadn't won a single match.

But I hadn't lost the same way twice.

Marcus pulled me aside after the fifth bout. "You're learning," he said.

I wiped blood from my nose. "Not fast enough."

"Fast enough to notice." He handed me a towel. "You've got one more shot this week. Make it count."

The sixth fighter was a Beta named Callum. He was bigger than me. Stronger. But I'd watched him spar twice, and I knew his pattern.

He came at me hard. I sidestepped. He adjusted. I'd expected that. I dropped low, swept his legs, and had him on the ground before he could recover.

The yard went quiet.

Callum looked up at me. Surprised.

I offered him a hand. He took it.

Marcus was watching from the edge of the ring. He didn't smile. But he nodded.

I walked off the mat. My legs were shaking. My ribs hurt. But I'd won.

One down.

---

The close-contact drills started the second week.

Jameson ran them himself. Grappling. Holds. Escapes. The kind of training that required you to be inches from your opponent.

The first session, he demonstrated a hold on Marcus. Clean. Professional. Then he turned to me.

"Your turn," he said.

I stepped forward. He moved behind me, his arm coming around my shoulders in a controlled hold. The jasmine-and-thunderstorm scent wrapped around me. My pulse jumped.

"Break it," he said quietly.

I tried. His grip didn't budge. I shifted my weight. Adjusted my angle. His body was solid behind mine, warm through the thin fabric of my training shirt.

I broke the hold on the third attempt. Stepped away. My heart was hammering.

Jameson's eyes were gold at the edges. He blinked and they cleared.

"Again," he said.

We ran the drill six more times. Every point of contact sent heat through me that had nothing to do with exertion. I told myself it was adrenaline. I didn't believe it.

By the end of the session, I was breathing hard. Not from effort. From something else.

Jameson dismissed the group. I turned to leave.

"Lauren."

I stopped.

He was standing too close. Not inappropriately. Just close enough that I could feel the pull.

"You're doing well," he said.

I nodded. Didn't trust my voice.

His jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he was going to say something else. Then he stepped back.

"See you tomorrow," he said.

I left before I could do something stupid.

Like ask him why his scent made my wolf wake up when nothing else could.