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Abandoned By My Mate, Claimed By The Most powerful The Alpha King Novel Cover

Abandoned By My Mate, Claimed By The Most powerful The Alpha King

As a wolfless Omega, she endured her family's contempt, believing her engagement to Alpha Julian would finally bring peace. Then her half-sister Karmen drugged her and abandoned her with three attackers, intending to destroy her reputation. She escaped, only to be cornered by Karmen and Julian—not as a rescue, but as a trap. Seeing her beside a half-naked stranger, Julian's disgust was absolute. Back home, she found her only friend beaten nearly to death by Karmen, shattering her last hope into cold fury. What no one knew: the rogue she'd saved was Cedric Bullock, the ruthless legendary Alpha of the Northridge Pack, freed from a deadly curse. When Julian demanded a public rejection, she accepted—then struck a deal with the most dangerous man alive to burn her family down.
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Chapter 1

Eleonora POV:

My head hurt terribly. At the same time, I seemed to be lying on something cold and hard—that must be concrete.

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach, hot and acidic. The smell of mold and damp earth filled my lungs, making me cough.

My eyes fluttered open. The world was a blur of gray shadows and a single, grime-coated window high on one wall.

"Look, she's waking up." The voice was a low rumble, laced with a greasy sort of amusement.

My vision sharpened. Three shapes solidified into men. Large men. They stood in a loose semi-circle, blocking the only door. Their smiles were identical, predatory and cruel.

The one in the middle, a bull of a man with a thick neck, cracked his knuckles. The sound echoed in the small, damp space. "Awake, little Omega? Karmen is eager to see what a mess you've become."

Karmen. My half-sister.

Everything that happened last night pierced my mind like shards of glass. She had used that gentle, caring tone to trick me into drinking that wine. Soon after, I lost consciousness. So that was how it was… a painfully obvious trap. I should’ve realized something was wrong, but I fell right into it anyway.

My stomach twisted. Not with fear. With a cold, hard knot of fury.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. My gaze flickered past them, scanning the small, derelict storage shed. My eyes cataloged every detail. Piles of rotting sacks. A stack of splintered wooden pallets. And there, leaning against the far wall, a length of rusted iron pipe.

The bull-necked man, Rocco, chuckled. "Don't bother looking. No one's coming to save you. Your useless fiancé Julian is probably keeping Karmen warm right now."

Julian. The mention of his name was a small, sharp sting, a pinprick to the heart that was quickly cauterized by the spreading fire of my anger.

Last night, during the ceremony, he made his choice and rejected me in front of the entire clan. If it weren’t for him, how would I have become so overcome with grief that I let my guard down, allowing Karmen to…

I pushed myself up, my movements slow and deliberate. I pretended to shrink back against the wall, making myself look smaller, more afraid. My body, however, was coiling, shifting my weight onto the balls of my feet. It was a basic readiness stance, one of the first things I'd learned in the self-defense classes I took back in the human world.

A lanky, thin-faced man to Rocco's left stepped forward. "Let's have some fun before we call her," he sneered, his eyes roaming over me in a way that made my skin crawl. He reached a grimy hand toward my hair.

The moment his fingers were inches away, I moved.

Not backward. Forward.

It was the last thing he expected. My body uncoiled like a spring. My elbow, a sharp point of bone, drove hard into the soft flesh just below his ribcage. The medical student in me knew exactly where to strike. The solar plexus.

He let out a choked grunt, the air forced from his lungs. He doubled over, his face a mask of pained surprise.

Rocco and the third man stared, frozen for a half-second. A wolfless Omega wasn't supposed to fight back.

I didn't give them time to recover.

My leg snapped out, the heel of my worn boot connecting with the side of the lanky man's knee. A sickening crunch. He screamed, a high, thin sound, and collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg.

"You bitch!" Rocco roared, finally lunging.

I was already moving, using the downed man's body as a springboard, launching myself toward the iron pipe. My fingers brushed against the cold, rough metal just as Rocco's hand closed around my ankle.

He yanked. Hard.

I fell, but I twisted as I went down, rolling with the momentum. The iron pipe was now firmly in my grasp. I didn't try to get up. From a half-kneeling position, I swung the pipe in a low, vicious arc.

It connected with Rocco's shin.

The sound was a dull, wet thud, followed by a roar of pure, animalistic pain. He staggered back, his leg buckling.

The third man, who had been circling around, finally charged, trying to grab me from behind. I felt the air shift, heard his heavy footfalls. Without looking, I jabbed the pipe backward, putting my entire body weight behind the thrust.

The end of the pipe slammed into his gut. He made a sound like a deflating balloon and crumpled.

I scrambled to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs. Adrenaline was a fire in my veins. The three of them were on the floor, groaning in pain, temporarily out of commission. But not for long.

I couldn't win a prolonged fight. My only goal was to escape.

I sprinted for the door. It was old wood, warped and heavy. I didn't bother with the handle. I threw my shoulder against it with every ounce of strength I had.

The wood groaned, splintered. I hit it again.

The lock gave way with a crack of tortured metal and wood. The door flew open, slamming against the outer wall.

Moonlight, blindingly bright after the dim shed, flooded my vision. I stumbled out into the cool night air, gasping. I didn't know where I was, only that it was the edge of the pack lands, near the wilder parts of the forest.

Behind me, Rocco's enraged howl echoed. "Get her! The Alpha will have our hides if she gets away!"

I ran.

I plunged into the trees, into the deepest, darkest part of the woods I could find. My human-world survival training kicked in. I moved erratically, using the thick trunks of ancient oaks and pines for cover, my feet barely making a sound on the carpet of dead leaves.

My lungs burned. My legs ached. But my mind was a block of ice. Calm. Focused.

They were faster than me. Stronger. I could hear them crashing through the undergrowth behind me, their pursuit clumsy but relentless.

A root, thick as my arm and hidden in the shadows, snaked out of the ground. My foot caught.

My balance was gone. I pitched forward, a cry tearing from my throat, my arms flailing for something to grab onto.

But I didn't hit the forest floor.

The ground simply vanished beneath me.

The fall ended not with a bone-shattering crash, but with a strange, yielding impact. I landed on something solid, yet oddly soft. And hot. Incredibly hot.

Darkness was absolute. The only sensory input was a scent that flooded my consciousness, overwhelming and complex. It was like snow-covered pines and a crackling bonfire, laced with an undercurrent of something metallic and sharp, like blood. And pain. The air tasted of pure agony.

I scrambled to push myself up, my palms pressing against what I thought was the ground. My fingers met warm, firm muscle.

A man's chest.

It rose and fell in ragged, shallow breaths.

A low groan, tight with suppressed torment, rumbled from beneath me.

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