ICE- The Alpha's Unwanted OMEGA
The captain is dead to the world. And I'm the only one holding the kill switch.
Ethan Carter, the "Glacier of Silvercrest," was the most feared Alpha to ever step onto the ice. Now, he's nothing but a shell-a broken, comatose legend trapped in his own body.
My life? It was supposed to be simple. Graduate, survive the pack's bottom-tier status, and pay off my father's ruinous blood-debts. Instead, the pack elders handed me a contract soaked in cold, hard malice: I am the designated "Stabilizer." My only job is to touch him, scent him, and keep his wolf from flatlining.
I thought I was just a glorified nurse. I didn't realize the Alpha was listening.
When Ethan finally wakes, he isn't the hero the Kingdom of Valeria remembers. He's a starving predator with amber eyes that burn holes through my defenses and a temperament that makes the frost in the mansion seem warm. He hates the bargain, he hates the pack, and-most dangerously-he hates the way his scent turns wild whenever I'm near.
He wants me out of his sight. I want to be out of his reach.
But in a pack built on secrets, someone is still trying to finish the job they started on his life. Now, the man who wants me gone is the only one who can protect me. And as the rink turns into a battlefield, I'm realizing the most dangerous thing about the Alpha isn't his temper... it's the fact that once he claims a mate, he doesn't know how to let go.
Frozen hearts are meant to shatter. But in the fire of this pack, we're both going to burn.
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Chapter 6
There wasn’t a shadow of a second heartbeat during my first checkup.
I stared at the ultrasound in my lap, sitting in a daze on a cold bench in the pack clinic’s corridor. Just one week later, and the monitor had shown two distinct sparks of life. The healer told me the odds of a natural twin pregnancy for a shifter were incredibly low.
If I chose to end this now, I might never have this chance again.
I let out a jagged, bitter laugh. This was the handiwork of the Carters’ private specialists. When they had performed the procedure, they hadn't breathed a word about twins. To them, I wasn't a person or a mate—I was just a high-yield vessel for the Silvercrest legacy.
When the spotting started last week, I’d assumed my body was rejecting the link. When the Foster doctors heard, they figured the investment had failed. Once Ethan woke up and demanded a divorce, they hadn't even bothered to look at me again.
The weight of two lives now rested entirely on my shoulders.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I’d been haunting the clinic for over an hour. I stood up and moved toward the exit, checking the screen. It was my mother.
"Collins, your father is fading! Get to the house now!"
Natalie’s voice was a hoarse, broken wreck. I froze.
Andrew was dying? How? I knew he’d been hospitalized after the Silvercrest Holdings pulled their support and the family business collapsed. He hadn't even been strong enough to attend my forced wedding.
I didn't realize he was at the edge of the abyss. My mind was a storm of conflicting scents. I had a jagged relationship with him; I couldn't forgive the way he’d betrayed my mother with Denise Harper. But hearing he was slipping away made my chest ache with a sudden, sharp grief.
The main hall of the Parker house was a disaster zone when I arrived. Natalie took me straight to the master suite.
Andrew Parker lay against the pillows, his breathing a shallow whistle, his eyes clouded. When he caught my scent, he reached out a trembling hand.
"Dad, why aren't you in the pack infirmary?" I asked, gripping his cold fingers as tears blurred my vision.
"Don't be dense, Collins! Where would we find the credits for a private ward?" Denise Harper snapped from the corner, her voice like ice.
I whipped my head around. "Didn't the Carters pay a fortune for the marriage contract? Why wasn't that used for his care?"
Denise scoffed. "That money went to the creditors before the ink was dry! Do you have any idea how much debt your father racked up trying to keep the franchise afloat? Don't look at me like I stole your inheritance, boy. Besides, his wolf is broken. He's better off crossing the veil!"
She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving a trail of bitter jasmine scent behind.
I stayed. Despite everything, he was my father. He’d been the one to teach me to skate, and the thought of him being gone forever was a hole in the world.
"Don't listen to her, Dad," I whispered, sniffling as I leaned over the bed. "I really thought you’d pull through..."
Andrew didn't seem to hear me. He looked at me with eyes swimming in tears, his voice a low, broken rasp. "Collins... my son. I failed you... I failed Natalie. I’ll hunt better for both of you in the next life..."
The hand holding mine suddenly went limp.
A howl of pure agony tore through the house. My heart felt like it had been shredded. In the span of a few days, my world had been upended: I was bound to a man who hated me, carrying two cubs I couldn't claim, and now, my father was gone. I felt like a pup pushed into a corner by a blizzard, with no way home.
The funeral was a gray, rain-slicked affair.
Very few wolves attended; the fall of the Parkers had turned us into pariahs. After the service, Denise headed to a nearby lounge with the few remaining "friends." The crowd thinned out like a flock of birds before a storm.
Eventually, it was just me and my mother standing by the fresh earth.
"Do you hate him, Mom?" I asked, staring at the headstone.
Natalie looked down, her voice hollow. "I do. Even now, I can't forgive the betrayal."
I didn't understand. "Then why are you crying?"
"Because the love doesn't just vanish when the hate arrives," she sighed. "It's a love-hate bond, Collins. Shifter hearts are rarely simple."
That night, I dragged my exhausted body back to the Carter fortress. I’d been gone for three days dealing with the arrangements, and not a single soul from the Silvercrest pack had called to check on me. My standing with Ethan was colder than a mid-winter frost.
As I walked into the courtyard, the mansion was ablaze with light. The sound of laughter and clinking crystal drifted from the living room. It was a party.
"Collins!" Patricia Bennett spotted me and rushed over.
She saw my black coat and the hollow look in my eyes, and her smile faltered. "It's pouring. Get inside." She pulled me into the foyer.
I was a ghost in black, my frame looking even thinner in my trench coat. My boots were caked with cemetery mud. I felt entirely out of place in the warmth of the room.
Patricia brought me my house slippers. As I changed, I glanced at the lounge. Ethan’s inner circle was evaluating me like a strange specimen in a cage—disrespectful, bold stares.
I looked directly at Ethan, who sat at the center of the leather sofa. He was wreathed in expensive tobacco smoke, his hard features looking like a dream behind the gray veil.
The reason I stared, though, was the woman draped beside him.
She had long, dark hair and was poured into a white dress that left nothing to the imagination. She was leaning into Ethan’s space, her own cigarette between her fingers. It was clear she was more than just an employee.
She stood up and walked toward me with a provocative smirk. "You must be Collins Parker," she said. "The 'consort' Margaret picked out. She has... interesting taste. You're quite the pretty thing, though a bit small. I'm not talking about your rank, but your... build."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're gorgeous, and clearly you've got the curves the Captain likes. So, when is the wedding?"
The nonchalant bite in my voice sent her into a rage.
"How dare you? Do you know how many seasons I’ve spent at Ethan’s side? I'm Chelsea Tierney. Even if you have the title, if I slapped you right now, he wouldn't even blink!"
She raised her hand.
CRASH.
The sound of shattering glass stopped the music. I had grabbed a thirty-thousand-dollar bottle of vintage wine from the side table and smashed it against the marble. Red liquid sprayed across her white dress and soaked into the expensive carpet.
My eyes were bloodshot, and my knuckles were white as I gripped the jagged neck of the bottle, pointing it at her throat.
"You want to hit me? Try it!" I snarled, my voice vibrating with a grief-fueled rage. "Touch me, and I’ll finish you!"
The room went silent. The "introverted Parker boy" they’d heard about was gone. Standing there was a wolf with nothing left to lose.
Ethan’s amber eyes narrowed as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. He didn't move, his gaze fixed on my trembling, lethal face.
I didn't wait for a reaction. I turned and stormed to my room, slamming the door with a force that rattled the chandeliers.
The guests looked at Ethan, expecting a slaughter. Usually, any noise over a whisper made him snap. That door slam was a sonic boom. But he sat there, calm and composed.
"Damn," someone whispered. "I heard the kid's father died this week. He's coming straight from the burial."
Chelsea, the PR lead for Silvercrest Holdings, was vibrating with humiliation. It was her birthday, and she’d intended to mark her territory. She returned to Ethan’s side, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I didn't know about his father."
Ethan crushed his cigarette out. He picked up his glass and drained it in one go.
"Happy birthday, Chelsea," he said, his voice deep and smooth.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"One more thing," Ethan added, adjusting his cuffs. His voice carried a razor-edged warning. "Collins Parker isn't a target. Even if he’s just a stray I’m keeping in the kennel, I’m the only one who gets to push him around."
Chelsea paled. "But the divorce... he’ll be nothing to the pack then!"
Ethan’s gaze turned to ice. Even if he's something I no longer want, I won't watch a vulture pick at him.
I sobbed into my pillow until I fell into a heavy sleep. When I woke, my eyes were swollen shut.
I was starving—the kind of hunger that felt like a physical ache in my gut. I threw on a robe and headed for the kitchen, stopping when I saw Ethan’s back in the dining room.
"Breakfast is ready, Collins!" Patricia called out.
I sat as far from him as possible. I was about to reach for a piece of toast when he spoke.
"That bottle of wine was worth thirty thousand credits."
My hand froze. Thirty thousand? For fermented grapes? "Are you sending me a bill?" I muttered.
Ethan glanced at my pale, haggard face. "It's a warning. You break another piece of my property, you’ll pay for it down to the last cent."
My stomach cramp vanished, and I started to eat. I noticed the bacon on my plate and felt a sudden, violent surge of nausea. I pushed the meat to the side, my face turning green.
"Is the food not to your liking?" Patricia asked.
"I'm... I'm sticking to greens lately," I lied.
After breakfast, I prepared to meet my father’s lawyer, Attorney Lucas Grant. As I headed out, Ethan was also departing for the Silvercrest offices.
The morning air was biting. As I walked down the long driveway, the cold wind hit me, and the nausea returned with a vengeance. I doubled over by a stone planter, puking my guts out.
A silver luxury sedan pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, and Ethan’s cold, amber eyes locked onto mine.
I felt my face heat up. Did he know? Could a High Alpha scent a pregnancy this early?
I wiped my mouth and stood tall, glaring at the window. "I think I just ate too much breakfast," I snapped.
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9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
8.7
For eighteen years, I lived as the lowest Omega in the Silver Moon Pack, surviving only because Alpha Gideon took me under his wing.
But the moment his coffin was lowered into the ground, his wife and the new Alpha son immediately turned on me.
"Her presence has brought a curse upon us!"
Luna Lyra pointed a trembling finger at me in the freezing rain, blaming me for Gideon's sudden death.
She stripped me of my pack ties and permanently exiled me into the deadly wilderness with nothing but a wooden toy.
The entire pack watched with cold contempt as I was thrown out like garbage.
To make matters worse, the new Alpha later hunted me down in the woods, threatening to kill me just to steal the only thing Gideon had secretly left behind for me—an ancient, unreadable book.
I didn't understand why they hated me so deeply, or what terrifying secret this blank book held that made my own pack want me dead.
But the moment my foot crossed the pack boundary, an ancient, immense power I never knew I had snapped free inside my veins.
I was no longer their weak Omega.
And when I escaped deeper into the forest and crashed straight into the arms of a wounded Rogue, my destiny completely rewrote itself.
Because he wasn't just a Rogue, but the legendary Northern Alpha King.
And as his glowing golden eyes locked onto mine, our inner wolves roared the exact same word:
"Mate!"
9.2
When Alma's father stood in front of the bulldozers to protest, the energy company's thugs beat him half to death in the mud.
Instead of arresting the attackers, the police handcuffed her bleeding father and threw him into a cruiser.
"Stay back, kid," the officer barked, shoving Alma away.
Her father was denied bail and framed for assaulting an officer. The corrupt mayor just smiled and told her not to cause a scene. Meanwhile, the company mailed her weeping mother a severance check that barely covered a month of groceries.
Alma was forced to watch her family be completely destroyed by men with money and power.
Kneeling in the cold dirt where her father's blood had spilled, she didn't shed a single tear. The panic in her chest died, replaced by a cold, absolute hatred.
She realized that crying wouldn't do anything. In this world, justice didn't exist for the weak.
Years later, Alma stepped onto a prestigious Ivy League campus, her cheap backpack slung over her shoulder.
She was surrounded by the arrogant children of the very executives who ruined her life.
She lowered her head, hiding her dead eyes, and put on the perfect mask of a timid, helpless charity case.
Undergrad was just a training ground, and these elite kids were just her practice dummies. The hunt was officially on.
9.8
I was an arrogant, canceled reality TV star, trying to salvage my ruined reputation on a live broadcast.
But after I lost my temper and assaulted a cameraman, my furious grandfather chased me into our family's forbidden gallery, where I accidentally crashed into an ancient, sealed portrait.
The canvas shattered, and a terrifying woman with glowing golden eyes stepped out of the wall.
She was Cecil, the First Matriarch of the Marshall family. She caught a lightning bolt with her bare hands and crushed me to my knees with an invisible, suffocating pressure.
My grandfather, instead of saving me, groveled on the floor and abandoned me to her mercy.
"You are the disgrace that will end this family."
She hijacked my entire life, forcing me to act as her submissive baggage handler on my own survival reality show, broadcasting my humiliation to millions.
I didn't understand why this ancient monster was tormenting me. Why did she strip away my pride, treat me like a broken tool, and force me to endure the mockery of the very ex-girlfriend who had ruined my life?
But when those same cast members tried to corner me in the dark woods, Cecil stepped in front of me, her eyes locking onto the silver ring of the man mocking me.
"To catch the wolf, one must sometimes walk with the sheep."
That was when I realized she wasn't here to destroy me—she was here to hunt the parasites who had been secretly siphoning away my life force.
7.2
I am a top-tier Alpha from another universe, but a spatial jump error dropped me straight into a high-security military isolation chamber.
Right in front of me was a terrifying, silver-haired wolf-beastman Admiral, completely losing his mind to a lethal biological heat cycle.
To survive in this strange dimension where my powers were restricted, I had to pretend to be a helpless, terrified girl.
Surprisingly, my mere presence and scent instantly cured his incurable madness.
But this backfired horribly. He became obsessively possessive, treating me like a fragile, priceless treasure.
When I managed to sneak out to the city's lawless slums to gather intel and accidentally saved a dying panther boy, the Admiral went completely feral.
He brought an entire war fleet, blotting out the sky, just to "rescue" me.
He nearly slaughtered the boy out of blind jealousy, forcing me to throw myself into his arms and cry fake tears to stop the bloodshed.
"I'm taking you home. No one will ever hurt you again."
He brought me to his flagship's secret medical bay and ordered the Empire's chief doctor to run a full genetic classification test on me.
I panicked. If they discovered my true identity as an off-world Alpha, I would be dissected or executed.
I immediately commanded my AI system to fake my blood data, aiming for a perfectly average, forgettable Omega result.
But as the machine processed my blood, the alarms blared, and the system overloaded.
The old doctor fell to his knees in absolute worship, and the terrifying Admiral looked at me with wild, starving eyes.
My system had overcompensated. I wasn't registered as average. I was just classified as the only SSSSS-grade Omega in the history of the universe.
8.3
For three years, I was the lowest Omega in the Blackwood Pack, hopelessly devoted to my Fated Mate, Alpha Kaelen.
But when I was mauled by rogues and bleeding out in the freezing forest, I desperately begged him for help through our mate link. He crushed his wolf’s instincts to save me and sent back a chilling thought before severing our connection completely.
"She is a mistake. Silence."
He didn't just leave me to die. The next morning, he dragged me before the entire pack, publicly rejected me, and let his people strip me of my clothes and dignity. They threw me out of the territory with nothing but a scratchy burlap sack, expecting the deadly wilderness to claim my life by nightfall.
I thought my life was over, until I stumbled upon a hidden sanctuary in the woods and uncovered a horrific truth. I wasn't just a worthless Omega. I was the last surviving Matron Luna of the legendary Mooncrest Pack—a powerful pack that Kaelen's own father had brutally massacred decades ago out of pure jealousy.
He thought he had discarded a piece of trash, entirely unaware of the blood feud between our families. He didn't know he had just set me free.
Now, with my ancient powers awakening and my lost people gathering by my side, I am going to make the Alpha who threw me away pay for every drop of blood his family spilled.