Forsaken by the Pack, Mated to the Secret Lycan King

Adelina POV

Jase Davenport’s penthouse was designed for power, not comfort. At 6:00 AM, the winter light creeping through the floor-to-ceiling windows painted the cold marble floors in shades of dead gray. I lay alone on the Egyptian cotton sheets, breathing in the lingering scent of his metallic cologne. It was a harsh, sterile smell that masked any natural wolf scent, suffocating the space just as he had suffocated me for the past two years.

I thought I was his partner. Because I was a wolfless Omega—born without an Inner Wolf, unable to feel the pull of a Fated Mate or hear the Pack mind-link—I had trusted his words instead of instincts I didn't possess.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, shattering the silence.

It was a push notification from *The Howl*, the most notorious werewolf gossip blog on the East Coast. I swiped the screen, my eyes adjusting to the harsh glare.

My heart stopped.

It was a high-resolution photo taken at the Alpha’s Gala in Paris. Jase was supposed to be there for a grueling Pack trade negotiation. Instead, he was standing under a chandelier, his hand resting intimately on the waist of a woman in a shimmering platinum dress. He was smiling—a genuine, fiercely possessive smile I hadn't seen directed at me in months.

The woman leaning into his chest was Kira Parrish. My stepsister. The girl who had made my childhood a living hell.

The headline screamed: *Davenport Pack’s New Power Couple: Alpha Jase Claims His Fated Luna, Kira Parrish.*

A sickening wave of humiliation washed over me. I wasn't his mate. I never was. I was just a convenient, wolfless assistant he used to keep his bed warm and his schedule organized while he waited for his true Luna.

A second later, a text message popped up from Jase.

*Adelina, my itinerary in Paris has changed. Update my schedule.*

No explanation. No apology. Just a cold, emotionless command to his employee. He didn't even see me as a person with a soul.

Before I could even process the betrayal, my phone began to ring. The caller ID flashed: *Carolyn Parrish*. My mother.

I answered, my throat tight. "Hello?"

"I assume you've seen the news," Carolyn's voice dripped with venomous satisfaction. "Did you honestly believe an Alpha like Jase would settle for a defective, wolfless creature like you? Kira is his true Mate. It’s time you stop playing pretend and do your duty to this family."

"My duty?" I choked out, gripping the edge of the mattress.

"Alpha Henderson is looking for a new wife," she stated smoothly, ignoring my pain. "He’s older, yes, but his Pack is wealthy. He needs a breeder, and you need a roof over your head. The arrangement is already in motion."

Bile rose in my throat. Henderson was a notorious, cruel Alpha who went through Omegas like disposable cups. "I'm not marrying Henderson. I'm not a piece of property you can trade."

"You will do exactly as I say, Adelina," Carolyn snapped, her tone turning lethal. "As the executor of your late father's estate, I control your Pack trust fund. The stipulations are clear: you don't see a dime of that money until you secure a formal Mating bond. Defy me, and I will freeze the accounts permanently. You will be cast out, penniless and Packless. You have until the end of the week."

The line went dead.

I dropped the phone, my hands trembling violently. She had me cornered. Without that trust fund, I had nothing. I would be a wolfless stray on the streets, easy prey for any Rogue.

But as the panic subsided, a cold, hard clarity took its place. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and walked over to my laptop.

*A formal Mating bond.*

My father’s will required a legal bond, but it never explicitly stated that Carolyn had to approve of the groom. I just needed a husband on paper. Someone desperate enough to sign a contract, take a payout, and leave me alone.

I opened a secure browser and typed in a name I had only heard in whispered underground rumors: *Babe Vincent*.

He was a disgraced Rogue, exiled from his family for his scandalous behavior, drowning in debt, and desperately in need of a respectable facade to keep his creditors at bay. He was the perfect pawn.

I found the contact portal for a discreet law firm in the financial district that handled sensitive Pack affairs. My fingers flew across the keyboard, drafting an urgent request for a Mating Contract negotiation.

I hit send. Within ten minutes, an automated reply confirmed an appointment for tomorrow morning at 8:58 AM. I closed the laptop, leaving Jase's penthouse behind to prepare for the meeting.