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My Alpha Called Me Omega Until the Lycan Claimed Me Novel Cover

My Alpha Called Me Omega Until the Lycan Claimed Me

The perfume made my skin crawl. I stood outside the Alpha's bedroom door, my fingers trembling as they hovered over the polished wood. Inside, I could hear him—low growls that vibrated through the walls, the crash of something heavy hitting the floor. My wolf should have stirred at the sound of an Alpha in distress. Should have whimpered or pressed against my consciousness, urging me to help. But I had no wolf. Just silence where there should have been another voice. "Miss Bishop." The pack healer, Dr. Ramos, appeared beside me with a crystal bottle. The liquid inside gleamed amber in the hallway's dim light.
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Chapter 3

The nurse's hands were gentle as she drew my blood, but her eyes held something I couldn't read. Pity, maybe. Or concern.

"Just routine," she murmured, labeling the vial with careful precision. "You fainted yesterday. Dr. Ramos wants to rule out anemia."

I nodded, too numb to speak. The lower-tier clinic smelled like antiseptic and old linoleum—nothing like the pristine infirmary where Cal lay three floors above, his treatments discontinued, his body slowly failing.

The nurse disappeared behind a curtain. I heard the soft beep of machines, the rustle of papers. When she returned, her face had changed.

"Norah." She pulled a chair close, sat down so our eyes were level. "You're pregnant."

The words didn't register at first. Just sounds. Syllables.

Then they hit.

"No." My voice cracked. "That's—that's not possible."

"About six weeks along, from what I can tell." She squeezed my hand. "Does the Alpha know?"

The Alpha. Xander. Who had used my body as a vessel for his grief, who had paid me like a prostitute, who had thrown me away the moment his real mate returned.

A pup. His pup. Growing inside me.

"No one can know," I whispered. "Please. No one."

The nurse's expression shifted to understanding. To fear. Because we both knew what this meant—an Omega carrying an Alpha's child outside a recognized bond. With Bella back, with Xander's protection withdrawn, this pup was a target. A threat to the perfect reunion everyone was celebrating.

"I won't tell," she promised. "But Norah, you need to be careful. Very careful."

I stumbled out of the clinic in a daze, one hand pressed to my still-flat stomach. A life. A tiny spark of life that had somehow taken root in all this darkness.

I had to protect it. Had to figure out a plan.

But first, I had to survive.

Two days later, I was serving dinner at the high table when Bella's head snapped up.

I was carrying a platter of roasted meat, moving as invisibly as possible through the great hall. But when I passed behind her chair, she went completely still. Her nostrils flared.

Then she turned, her eyes locking onto mine with predatory focus.

"You," she said softly. "Come here."

I obeyed, setting the platter down with shaking hands. Xander barely glanced at me, too absorbed in conversation with his Beta.

Bella stood, circling me slowly. Inhaling deeply. Her expression shifted from curiosity to shock to cold, calculated rage.

"Your scent," she murmured, too quiet for anyone else to hear. "It's... changed."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "I don't—"

"Hormones." Her smile was razor-sharp. "You're carrying his pup, aren't you?"

I stepped back, but her hand shot out, gripping my wrist with bruising force.

"Does he know?" she hissed.

"No. Please—"

"Good." She released me, smoothing her dress with deliberate calm. "Keep it that way. In fact, meet me at the training grounds tomorrow morning. Six a.m. sharp. I have an errand that requires... discretion."

It wasn't a request.

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

That night, I couldn't sleep. Every instinct screamed danger. But what choice did I have? If I refused, she'd tell Xander. Or worse—she'd find another way to eliminate the threat I represented.

At dawn, I walked to the training grounds on legs that felt like water.

The field was empty, mist clinging to the grass. Bella stood in the center, already in training clothes, her expression serene.

"Thank you for coming," she said pleasantly. "I need you to retrieve something from the equipment shed. A specific training dummy. The one marked with red tape."

I moved toward the shed, my skin crawling with wrongness.

I never made it.

The shift happened so fast I barely registered it—one moment Bella was human, the next a massive gray wolf was launching at me, jaws wide.

I screamed, throwing up my arms.

Her teeth closed around my throat.

Pain exploded through me, white-hot and all-consuming. I felt my vocal cords tear, felt warm blood pour down my neck. I tried to scream again but only a wet gurgle emerged.

She shook me like a rag doll, then threw me to the ground.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't make sound. My hands clawed at my throat, trying to hold the torn flesh together.

Bella shifted back to human form, standing over me with cold satisfaction. "Rogue intruder," she said calmly, as if rehearsing. "I defended the pack. So tragic."

Then she knelt, and I felt a sharp sting in my side—her claws, injecting something that burned like acid through my veins.

"For the bastard pup," she whispered. "Can't have you birthing an heir, can we?"

She walked away, calling for help, her voice rising in false panic.

I lay in the grass, choking on my own blood, feeling the poison spread through my body like ice.

My hand found my stomach.

I'm sorry, I thought to the tiny life inside me. I'm so sorry.

Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision.

And the last thing I heard was Bella's voice, sweet and concerned, telling the arriving guards how she'd bravely fought off a rogue who'd somehow infiltrated their territory.

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