
HER FATED MATE IS AN OMEGA
SYNOPSIS:
"I spent ten years scrubbing your floors, Greene. Tonight, you'll scrub mine."
Elara Vance has always been the pride the Republic until she ran away from home, fell in love with Greene Jones, a man who treated her like dirt and discarded her like she was never the girl the entire Republic feared because of her strong dominating pheromones.
Now she's back after twelve years to serve revenge to Greene Jones like a hot dish in a way that he will pay for every act meted out on her for twelve years. But things wasn't going to go as planned as she meets Silas, the handsome bulky head of her father's security but a recessive omega of her past that she has totally forgotten but now wears a new stance as her bodyguard, recognized by the entire republic as an Alpha, and her perfect chosen mate, Calvin; ruining the comeback and revenge she planned out for herself and now she has to think about saving and claiming her mate, Silas while navigating and protecting the seat meant for her.
The real question becomes; will Calvin ever allow her take all it took him twelve years to build?
THEME: The true definition of power. Is it found in the biological dominance of an Alpha, or in the resilience of an Omega who survived in the lion's den?
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Chapter 5
"What did you just say?" Silas's voice dropped like a guillotine. He stepped from behind Elara, his presence expanding until he seemed to eclipse the very light in the room. The sheer intensity of his gaze was a physical blow, yet Greene, blinded by his own delusion, didn't flinch.
"Who are you having the audacity to talk to like that?" Silas asked, his voice vibrating with a fury that made the nearest guests take a collective step back.
"And who are you to speak to me like that?" Greene challenged, his chest puffed out. He sneered, looking Silas up and down with a dismissive grunt. "Are you the one who smuggled her into this place?" He scoffed, gesturing vaguely at Elara's gown. "Were you also invited? You don't look like an Alpha to me, more like a Beta feeding on suppressants."
Silas took another step forward, his shadow looming over Greene. "What did you just say?"
"I'm with the President's daughter!" Greene boasted, throwing an arm around Beatrice's waist. "You don't want to be thrown out of here. I can have you sacked with one word to her father!"
Beatrice, however, had gone deathly pale. Her eyes were fixed on Silas, and her expression shifted from smugness to pure, unadulterated terror. She recognized him. Everyone in the inner circle knew the 'Beast of the Presidential Guard.' She began to shrink back, her voice a frantic whisper. "Greene... lower your voice."
"Lower my voice? I'm not going to lower my voice! Speaking to me like this when you're here with me? I'm going to have him dealt with!"
"Greene, stop raising your voice..." Beatrice pleaded, her hand shaking as she tried to detach herself from his side.
The murmurs from the crowd grew sharper, biting into the silence.
"Who's that guy speaking arrogantly to Alpha Vance?"
"He must have a death wish. Who gave him an invitation? Ordinary Alphas of low rank are suddenly allowed into spaces like this?"
"And he's so brazenly pointing at Silas... that beast no one dares look at twice. He's cooked."
Greene ignored them all, looking at Beatrice with confusion. "Why are you scared? Do they intimidate you? Look at me, I'm this woman's ex-husband. You know who she is already. She's nothing!"
"You're Alpha Vance's ex-husband?"
The voice that cut through the air was like cold steel sliding over silk. The entire room pivoted. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as a man walked through, his every step echoing with the weight of absolute authority.
It was Calvin.
Elara's breath hitched as she looked at him. Twelve years had transformed the boy who helped her scale the wall into a titan. He was massive, his physique honed by a decade of military command, his shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the nation. His hair was dark and swept back, framing a face that was strikingly handsome but carved from granite. His eyes, a piercing, predatory grey, locked onto hers for a fraction of a second, a soft, knowing smile ghosting his lips, before they turned back into ice as he looked at Greene.
"Calvin is here," someone whispered. "That mentally deranged man is as good as dead."
"You said you were Alpha Vance's ex-husband?" Calvin repeated, stopping mere inches from Greene. Silas stepped aside, yielding the floor to the man who had been groomed to be Elara's mate.
Greene's smile died a little. He looked at Elara, then at Calvin, then back at Elara. A flicker of doubt finally crossed his face, but his arrogance was a hard habit to break. "I don't know about an 'Alpha Vance,' but I know I'm this woman's ex-husband," he replied, pointing a finger at Elara.
Calvin's jaw tightened. "Stop embarrassing her by saying you're Alpha Vance's ex-husband. You could be jailed for such a claim."
"Jailed for what? Beatrice, can you hear what they're saying?" Greene turned to the girl, but Beatrice was already three steps away, her face a mask of sweating panic.
"You're supposed to keep quiet at this point, Greene," Elara said, her voice cutting through his panic like a scalpel. She turned her cold gaze to the girl. "Beatrice... you said you're the President's daughter?"
Beatrice looked like she wanted to melt into the floorboards. She couldn't even find her voice.
"Well, you know she is!" Greene snapped, letting go of Beatrice's hand to gesture toward the ballroom at large. "Go find your father, Beatrice. I would love to discuss our marriage proceedings with him right now."
"Marriage proceedings?" Elara asked while Greene nodded proudly, adjusted his lapels as if he already wore the crown.
"Yeah, marriage proceedings. To marry an Alpha, things like this always happen. You know, you don't just marry them off like Omegas who have no real marriage, they just stick with their Alphas that they're mated... why am I explaining all these to you like you actually understand."
Elara suddenly began to spread her pheromones as the anger in her began to set in. It wasn't just a scent; it was a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated power. A dizzying feeling enveloped everyone in a thirty-foot radius. The air grew heavy, thick with the metallic tang of a Dominant Alpha's rage. The only people not affected were the other apex predators, Calvin, her father, and a few other Dominant Alphas. Every other person in the room began to take wavering steps, clutching their heads as dizziness washed over them. His father flickered a gaze from where he stood to where she was, wondering what must've made her spread out her strong pheromones so angrily.
"Who is this Alpha with such strong pheromones?" Greene asked, his voice cracking as he tried plucking his nose, his knees beginning to tremble under a weight he didn't comprehend.
Calvin turned to look at Elara. Of course, he had missed her strong pheromones for so long. The feel of it brought back memories of their childhood, the way they used to spar until the air itself felt like it would combust. He connected to her mind effortlessly, his voice echoing in her head via their old mind link.
"Seriously? This man is your ex-husband? He asked, his mental tone dripping with condescending disbelief. "You didn't want me as your mate so you could be with such a blabbermouth like this? What did he give to you to make you waste years with him?"
"Calvin, just shut up."
"I will shut up, but please stop spreading your pheromones everywhere. You're contaminating the party. There are some Omegas in this building, Elara. You won't know how to take care of them all if you break them into their heat cycles."
The warning snapped her back. She remembered someone, she turned around immediately to where Silas stood. He was shaking violently, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of a chair. He was trying so hard to maintain his composure, but the sweat soaking through his suit gave him away. Her pheromones were hitting him like a physical blow; even the strongest suppressants couldn't shield an Omega from a Dominant Alpha's direct, unbridled fury.
"Who is this Alpha with these pheromones? He should stop spreading it!" Greene yelled, his voice rising in a panicked pitch as the room began to spin for him.
Elara stepped closer toward him, her shadow looming large. "It's me. I'm the woman with those pheromones you're talking about."
"You?" He asked, a scoff forming on his lips, but the scoff died as she released them further. "You're an alpha?"
The surge was too much. To everyone's absolute shock, Silas slumped to the floor immediately. The air was suddenly flooded with a new scent, something sweet, raw, and terrifyingly vulnerable. His own Omega pheromones were slipping out of him in a desperate, uncontrollable rush, stripped bare by Elara's presence. It was as if he had turned twelve again, caught in the terrifying onset of a gender he had spent a decade hiding.
Elara blinked, swallowing hard as the sweet scent hit her senses.
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9.1
Cora crash-landed her escape pod on a brutal alien planet, only to be immediately hunted by a massive six-eyed beast.
A colossal black wolf dropped from the canopy and crushed the beast's neck to save her. But before she could even breathe, the wolf transformed into a towering, naked primitive man with glowing gold eyes.
He hauled her back to his savage tribe, where she was instantly treated like garbage. The women sneered at her fragile human body, and the men eyed her like fresh meat.
The tribe leader's jealous daughter even handed her a waterskin laced with a terrifying alien breeding drug, hoping to turn Cora into a mindless spectacle of lust in front of the entire settlement.
"Drink. You look like you're dying," the daughter sneered, waiting for Cora to lose her mind.
Cora was terrified and completely out of her depth. She didn't understand why this lethal Alpha warrior looked at her with such dark, consuming possessiveness, or why he was willing to slaughter his own people just to protect her.
How was a stranded human supposed to survive in a terrifying world where every plant, beast, and local wanted her dead?
"BEEP! Critical Warning! Liquid contains high concentrations of alien aphrodisiac herbs," her implanted AI assistant suddenly echoed in her skull.
Looking at the hostile tribe and the fiercely protective Alpha shielding her, Cora silently activated her tech interface. She wasn't just going to be a helpless pet in this savage world.

9.7
Sienna woke up in a hospital room, her body screaming from a severe car accident. Through the glass, a man paced with violent rage, a dark shadow she felt absolutely nothing for.
Her friend Julia burst in, eyes bloodshot, dropping a bomb: "He didn't even try to help you." Dante, Sienna's fiancé, had protected another woman, Valeria, in the crash, leaving Sienna to burn alive.
Her past life unspooled – seven years sacrificed, an architecture degree abandoned, all to serve Dante. Her phone was a shrine to him: his photos, his "taboos," and even "Valeria's preferences," with no trace of Sienna herself.
But amnesia brought no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating fury. She felt disgust for the "idiot" she'd been, stripped of dignity. The memory loss was a release, a blank slate.
With chilling resolve, Sienna deleted every trace of Dante. Ripping out her IV, she declared, "The wedding proceeds." Not for love, but as a weapon: "I need to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear."

8.1
On my wedding day, the wedding planner looked at me with pity in her eyes.
She told me the groom had called with a last-minute request. He wanted the name on the floral arch changed from "Elena" to "Sofia."
Five years of loyalty to Dante Romero, and I found out he was planning a "secret" ceremony with his mistress an hour before ours.
He claimed she was dying of cancer. He said it was her final wish to be a bride, and that as a good mafia wife, I should understand. He swore it was just charity.
But I had seen the texts where he called me "furniture."
I had watched him step over my body when I fell down the stairs at a club, just so he could leave with her.
And this morning, I watched Sofia walk into the hotel lobby wearing *my* custom French lace wedding dress, smirking as she clung to his arm.
Dante thinks I'm crying in the bridal suite.
He thinks I will sit in the front row of his "fake" wedding and wait for my turn like a dutiful puppet.
He is wrong.
I wiped my tears and picked up my phone. I didn't cancel the wedding date. I just changed the location to the ballroom next door.
And I changed the groom.
As Dante says his vows to his mistress, I am walking down the aisle to meet the only man the Romero family fears.
The Reaper.

8.6
For two years, I was trapped behind my own eyes, a prisoner in my own skull.
A crazed fan had hijacked my body after a brutal car crash, wearing my skin like a cheap suit.
When my soul finally locked back into my flesh in a cramped hospital room, I realized she had destroyed everything I built.
This parasitic stalker had drained my massive fortune to zero, buying luxury gifts for a mediocre actor and turning me into the internet's most hated woman.
My phone was flooded with death threats, and the hashtag demanding I go to hell was trending at number one.
Even the hospital nurses despised me. One marched into my room, raising her hand to violently slap my pale cheek.
"You psychotic bitch, you make me sick!"
Worse, my sprawling Beverly Hills estate had been foreclosed and sold to a mysterious billionaire named Kasey Dominguez.
I had absolutely nothing left. No money. No reputation. No home.
The sheer violation of watching a psychotic stranger ruin my life while I was locked in the passenger seat of my own mind made my blood boil.
I refused to let her destroy my legacy.
As the nurse's hand descended, my atrophied muscles snapped into action.
I twisted her wrist until the joint popped, grabbed the keys to my freedom, and slipped out into the cold Los Angeles night.
I was going to take my life back, starting with the billionaire who thought he owned my house.

8.0
For ten years, I played the safe, "wolfless" emotional support animal for my werewolf best friend, Finn, secretly loving him while he chased his toxic ex.
When she got engaged to a rival Alpha, he dragged me across the country to crash the mating ceremony, only to abandon me at the airport.
His terrifying older brother, Alpha Knox, picked me up instead and shattered my world with one sentence: Finn had always known how I felt, and he intentionally weaponized my devotion.
To prove how little I meant to him, Knox orchestrated a cruel test at a seedy Rogue club.
While I sat right next to Finn in a sticky booth, Knox sent over a stripper.
"You don't mind, right, Sloane? It's just a gift," Finn slurred.
Without hesitating, he let the stripper straddle him right in front of me, burying his face in her neck to chase away the pain of his ex.
A decade of my blind loyalty turned to ash in that smoke-filled room.
I hated my defective, wolfless biology, but I hated him more for treating me like a stray dog begging for scraps.
Why did I waste my entire youth protecting a male who didn't even see me as a woman?
Suffocating on shame and fury, I fled to the cramped club bathroom to hide.
*Click.*
The deadbolt slid into place, and the intoxicating scent of a violent thunderstorm and spent gunpowder swallowed me whole.
Alpha Knox Crawford stood against the locked door, his merciless eyes pinning me to the sink.

7.1
I worked eighty-hour weeks on Wall Street just to keep my sick brother alive, enduring endless humiliation from the wealthy family that adopted us.
But when I went to surprise my boyfriend of three years, I found him kissing my spoiled adoptive sister, Tatum.
They were celebrating their engagement to merge their powerful families.
To keep me quiet, my adoptive mother, Eleanor, threatened to freeze my brother's medical trust fund unless I attended the party to play the supportive sister.
Instead, I discovered Eleanor had been embezzling from my brother's life-saving fund to cover her own bad investments.
The nightmare worsened when a drunken Ryder cornered me in my apartment stairwell.
"Once I marry Tatum, Eleanor is giving me control of Liam's trust fund to buy out my father's board members."
He planned to drain my brother's medical money, dump Tatum, and keep me as his mistress.
For a decade, I suffered their abuse hoping for a shred of decency, only to realize they were plotting to leave my brother to die on the streets for corporate greed.
Calling the police wouldn't stop these billionaires. I needed absolute power.
Remembering the dark, predatory gaze of Jaren Jarvis—the ruthless billionaire who had watched me fight back at the party—I canceled my call to 911.
If they wanted to destroy my only family, I was going to use the devil himself to crush theirs.