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Forsaken by the Alpha, Chosen by Fate Novel Cover

Forsaken by the Alpha, Chosen by Fate

I woke up before dawn to slice strawberries for my husband, Gabe, excited to finally tell him I was pregnant. As a "Wolfless" Omega, I had always been looked down upon, but I thought this baby proved I wasn't broken. But Gabe didn't come home alone. He walked in with Harper, a woman wearing the silk robe he had bought for me, reeking of his scent. He didn't kiss me. He didn't ask how I was. Instead, he sat her in my chair. "Make more pancakes," he ordered. "Harper is hungry." When I refused, demanding he explain why another woman was wearing my clothes, he didn't apologize. He used the Alpha Command. The pressure slammed me to the floor, crushing my bones and threatening the life inside my womb. I had to crawl out of the room while they laughed. My adoptive parents didn't save me; they sold me out for a council seat and a diamond necklace. Then came the public execution of my heart. At the Ascension Ceremony, Gabe took the microphone and rejected me in front of the entire Pack to make Harper his Luna. But they didn't just kick me out. They dragged me to a dirty, back-alley clinic. His mother ordered them to "remove the parasite" inside me. I screamed as they strapped me down. But as the needle touched my skin, the steel door was ripped off its hinges. The Alpha King stood in the debris, his eyes burning with golden rage as he looked at the necklace I wore. "Who dares touch my daughter?" he roared. I wasn't a defect. I was the lost White Wolf Princess. And the man standing behind the King wasn't just a guard—he was my true mate.
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Chapter 1

I woke up before dawn to slice strawberries for my husband, Gabe, excited to finally tell him I was pregnant. As a "Wolfless" Omega, I had always been looked down upon, but I thought this baby proved I wasn't broken.

But Gabe didn't come home alone. He walked in with Harper, a woman wearing the silk robe he had bought for me, reeking of his scent.

He didn't kiss me. He didn't ask how I was. Instead, he sat her in my chair.

"Make more pancakes," he ordered. "Harper is hungry."

When I refused, demanding he explain why another woman was wearing my clothes, he didn't apologize. He used the Alpha Command.

The pressure slammed me to the floor, crushing my bones and threatening the life inside my womb. I had to crawl out of the room while they laughed.

My adoptive parents didn't save me; they sold me out for a council seat and a diamond necklace.

Then came the public execution of my heart. At the Ascension Ceremony, Gabe took the microphone and rejected me in front of the entire Pack to make Harper his Luna.

But they didn't just kick me out. They dragged me to a dirty, back-alley clinic. His mother ordered them to "remove the parasite" inside me.

I screamed as they strapped me down. But as the needle touched my skin, the steel door was ripped off its hinges.

The Alpha King stood in the debris, his eyes burning with golden rage as he looked at the necklace I wore.

"Who dares touch my daughter?" he roared.

I wasn't a defect. I was the lost White Wolf Princess. And the man standing behind the King wasn't just a guard—he was my true mate.

Chapter 1

Charlotte POV

The kitchen of the Sullivan Pack house was cold, a sterile chill that made the sweat on my hands feel clammy.

It was five in the morning. The sun hadn't yet broken the horizon, yet I was already awake, slicing strawberries with the precision of a surgeon. Gabe liked them thin. He liked his toast golden, never brown, and his coffee black enough to wake the dead.

I paused, placing a hand on my stomach. It was barely a bump, just a tiny, secret swell hidden beneath the fabric of my oversized apron.

"Good morning, little one," I whispered into the silence. "Daddy is going to be in a good mood today. I can feel it."

My wolf was silent. In truth, she had always been silent. In our world, a wolf that didn't speak, didn't shift, and didn't manifest by the age of eighteen was considered a defect. A "Wolfless." An Omega in the truest, most pathetic sense of the word.

But this baby... this baby felt different. A warm hum of energy radiated from my womb, a quiet promise that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't broken after all.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. My heart did that foolish little skip it always did when Gabe was near.

Gabe Sullivan. The Alpha of the Sullivan Pack. My husband. My mate.

He walked into the kitchen, his fingers busy buttoning the cuffs of his Italian suit. He didn't look at me. Instead, he checked his watch.

"Coffee," he said, his voice rough with sleep.

I poured the mug instantly, sliding it across the granite island. He took a sip, grimaced, and set it down hard.

"It's too hot, Charlotte."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, reaching for the mug. "I'll add an ice cube-"

"Forget it. I don't have time." He grabbed a piece of toast, took a single bite, and tossed the rest into the sink like garbage. "The IPO launch is in three days. The board is breathing down my neck about the expansion plans."

He walked past me, heading straight for the door. He didn't kiss me. He didn't touch my shoulder. He didn't even ask how I slept.

"Gabe," I called out, my voice trembling. "I... I made your favorites."

He paused, hand on the doorknob, and finally looked at me. His eyes, usually a warm amber, were flat and unseeing.

"The house is messy, Charlotte. Mother says the dust on the banister is visible. Fix it before tonight."

The door slammed shut.

I stood there, the silence of the kitchen wrapping around me like a suffocating shroud. I looked down at the perfectly sliced strawberries.

"He's just busy," I told the empty room, my voice hollow. "He's stressed."

Once I was sure his car had left the driveway, I retreated to the study. This was my secret sanctuary. I sat at the desk, pushing aside Gabe's chaotic notes, and opened a hidden folder on the laptop.

Blueprints filled the screen. The "expansion plans" Gabe was so worried about? I had finished them weeks ago.

The towering glass structures, the eco-friendly pack housing, the community center-every line, every calculation was mine.

Gabe couldn't draw a straight line if his life depended on it. But the Pack believed he was a visionary. I let them believe it. A Wolfless Omega wife was useless, but a brilliant Alpha? That commanded respect.

Suddenly, a sharp static buzzed in my head. It was the Mind-Link, the telepathic web that connected every member of the Pack.

Did you see the Omega tripping over her own feet in the garden? a voice sneered. It was Sarah, one of the warriors.

Useless thing, another voice answered. If Gabe wasn't so charitable, he would have thrown her to the Rogues years ago. Imagine having a Luna who can't even Shift.

She's not a Luna, Sarah laughed. She's a pet.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Block it out. Just block it out. I slammed my mental walls up, severing the connection. The silence returned, but the sting remained.

"Charlotte!"

The shrill voice of Eleanor Sullivan, Gabe's mother, pierced the air.

I hurried out of the study. Eleanor stood in the hallway, running a white-gloved finger along a picture frame. She inspected the tip of her finger, then looked at me with pure disgust.

"Filthy," she spat.

"I was just about to clean it, Eleanor," I said, keeping my head bowed. Submission was survival.

"You are a stain on this Pack, Charlotte," she said, walking around me as if I were an inanimate object. "When we ascend to a Top Tier Pack after the IPO, we will need a celebration. A real celebration."

She stopped and smiled-a cruel thinning of her lips that showed too many teeth.

"We need to prepare for the future Luna."

My blood ran cold. "I... I am the Luna."

Eleanor laughed. It was a dry, brittle sound. "You? You are a placeholder. A charity case my son picked up because he has a soft heart. But soft hearts don't rule empires. We need a strong female. A wolf."

She leaned in close. "Don't get comfortable, dear. Change is coming."

She swept away, leaving the scent of expensive perfume and malice in her wake.

I clutched my stomach. They don't know, I thought desperately. They don't know about the baby. Once they know I'm carrying his heir, everything will change. He won't leave me.

I spent the afternoon at the Pack orphanage, the only place where I felt human. I was helping design a new shelter for the influx of Rogues-wolves without packs-who were seeking asylum.

"This is amazing, Charlotte," said Old Martha, the orphanage matron, looking at my sketches. "You have a gift. You understand how to make a space feel safe."

"Safety is important," I murmured.

When I returned to the main house that evening, the air felt heavy with unspoken tension. I went to my private study to put away my sketches, but stopped.

My papers were scattered. My laptop was open.

Someone had been here.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I quickly checked the files. The architectural plans were moved, but nothing was deleted.

The front door opened downstairs.

"Gabe?"

I ran down the stairs. He was standing in the foyer, loosening his tie. But as I got closer, I stopped dead.

The smell.

It hit me like a physical blow. It wasn't the woodsy, musk scent of my husband. It was floral. Sickly sweet. Like rotting lilies masked by heavy perfume.

It wasn't my scent. And it was all over him.

"You're late," I whispered, gripping the banister for support.

Gabe looked up. His eyes were glassy, unfocused. "Meeting ran long."

"You smell like... flowers."

He flinched. Just a fraction, but I saw it. "I was at a florist. For the ceremony."

"A florist? At ten at night?"

"Drop it, Charlotte!" His voice didn't just boom; it vibrated with the Alpha's Command.

My knees buckled instinctively. The Command was absolute; an Alpha's order forced submission on anyone lower in rank. My body obeyed before my mind could even protest.

I sank to the floor, gasping for air.

He didn't help me up. He simply walked past me, ascending the stairs. "I need the itinerary for the Ascension Ceremony on my desk by morning. Don't disappoint me."

I dragged myself to our bedroom an hour later. He was already asleep, sprawled across the bed.

I saw his jacket thrown on the chair. A silk scarf was peeking out of the pocket.

I walked over, my hands trembling, and pulled it out. It was red. Expensive silk. And it reeked of that sickly sweet lily scent.

Tears blurred my vision. I looked at Gabe, sleeping soundly.

"You promised," I whispered into the dark. "You said it didn't matter that I couldn't shift. You said I was enough."

Gabe shifted in his sleep. He frowned, mumbling something into the pillow.

I leaned closer, holding my breath.

"Harper..." he groaned, a sound of raw, agonizing longing. "Harper..."

The scarf slipped from my fingers. The name hung in the air like the blade of a guillotine.

Harper.

Outside, the moon hid behind a cloud, plunging the room into total darkness.

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