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 6
The scent hit her like a memory she had no permission to forget. It was sweet, soft, and dangerously familiar. Just like twelve years ago.
Elara's breath caught as it wrapped around her senses, slipping past her control, settling deep in her chest like something ancient recognizing its own.
Silas.
Her gaze snapped fully to him, he was on the floor.
Not just fallen, broken.
His broad frame trembled violently, one hand gripping the chair leg so hard the wood creaked in protest. Sweat clung to his skin, his jaw locked tight as if he was fighting something feral clawing its way out of him.
And the scent, his scent was spilling. It was everywhere, uncontrolled, exposed, and vulnerable.
A silence rippled through the room, heavy and suffocating. Everyone felt it, even those who didn't understand it.
Elara moved instinctively, one step then another and the crowd parted without being told even further after the sudden crowd. Because something in her expression had changed, it wasn't about Greene anymore.
This was something far more dangerous. "Silas." When she called his name, Calvin's attention snapped to Elara's face.
That softness didn't belong to Elara. Not like this. He's trying to get the hang of Silas's sudden collapse but Elara's strange reaction to it was far worse.
Silas's head snapped up at the sound of his name. Those stormy blue eyes, usually controlled and distant, were wrecked now. It was raw and exposed. Burning with something that made her chest tighten in a way she didn't understand.
"Alpha..." he breathed, his voice rough, almost breaking.
The word did something to her, something deeper and behind her, Greene let out a disbelieving laugh.
"Oh, so now the act changes?" he scoffed, though his voice lacked the same confidence as before. "What is this? Some performance to scare me? He's just weak, look at him!"
No one laughed and no one even agreed. Everyone seemed to be worried about the sudden melting of Silas to the floor.
And Greene... still didn't understand. Elara didn't even look at him.
"Silas," she said again, quieter this time, it was a command, a pull, and his body reacted instantly.
His shoulders jerked, his grip tightening as a low, involuntary sound escaped him, something between a groan and a plea. The scent thickened, curling tighter around her like a chain.
He hates himself for this. This is why he hates himself so much but now, even that hate seems to be melting away as the seconds pass.
Calvin's voice cut through the tension, sharp and controlled.
"Elara," Calvin called out like a warning, but she ignored him.
"Look at me."
Silas did fully and in that moment, something clicked. Something that made the back of her neck prickle. Silas needed to get out of here as fast as possible. She tried to release more of her pheromones to mask Silas's scent while scanning for ways to smuggle him away without bringing attention to herself.
"Guards!" Calvin quickly called and they appeared very quickly, "Help Silas, he doesn't seem to be okay at the moment. Take him to his room."
"No one should touch him." Elara quickly whipped out without a second thought.
All eyes came to her immediately, "I will deal with him myself." She said with a note of finality, even Calvin shouldn't dare question what she just said.
Greene took a step back, just one and his eyes darted between them, then everyone, confusion finally cracking through his arrogance. And then, he panicked when he couldn't find Beatrice by his side anymore.
Fear began to creep into him, "Where's Beatrice?" He asked, seeing himself suddenly feeling cold. It was becoming more real as the seconds passed especially when the guards took a step back on Elara's order.
Greene staggered slightly, catching his balance on a nearby table. His breathing was uneven now, his eyes...wide, his fears growing stronger, slow, ugly, and real.
"You..." he started, pointing at Elara with a shaking hand. "You're... you're the one?"
No one spoke, no one helped him because now...he was finally seeing it. Elara turned to him at last, and when her gaze landed on him, it wasn't the woman he had known, the Elle who scrubbed his floors or the one he hit at will to his own pleasure.
It wasn't the quiet girl who bowed her head and whispered apologies. She was something else entirely and that made his panic work up higher.
"Yes," she said simply, the word dropped like a verdict, like his doom was already sealed the moment he walked through that door.
"I am."
Greene's mouth opened, closed, and then opened again.
His mind struggled to catch up, to rearrange every memory he had of her into something that made sense.
"You're... the President's..." His voice cracked. "That means... that means..."
"That you threw the President's daughter out of your house," Calvin finished for him inaudibly since no one has to know where the president's daughter disappeared to for the past twelve years.
Then he began to laugh, while Greene's face drained of colour. Beatrice hid deeper into the crowd, slowly finding herself shoving through wolves to get to her father.
"No... no, that's not-she-she was-"
"Nothing?" Elara tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening. "Say it again."
He couldn't, he physically couldn't because now, he understood. The clothes, the silence, the obedience, the power he thought he had...it had never been his.
It had been hers all along.
"I..." His knees buckled slightly. "El-Alpha... I didn't know-"
"No," she cut in, her voice calm, "You didn't."
She took a step closer and he stepped back instinctively.
"That's what makes it worse." The words landed softly. But they hit harder than anything she had said.
Behind her, Silas shifted, still on the floor, still watching her like she was the only one anchoring him to reality.
Elara felt it again, that pull, that awareness and she furrowed, hating the way her alpha absorbed it without taking it back.
"Guards." Her voice rang out, sharp and absolute, and two men stepped forward instantly.
Greene turned, panic fully setting in now.
"Elara, wait-please-listen to me-I didn't mean-"
"Strip him of his access," she said, not even looking at him. "Every privilege. Every title he thinks he has."
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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.