
PRETENDER: Alpha's Forbidden Omega
They said Omegas were born to kneel.
Elowyn Froste decided to run.
In a kingdom ruled by scent and bloodlines, nineteen-year-old Elowyn escapes the claws of an Alpha who bought her life. To survive, she cuts her hair, binds her chest, and enters Ashmoore Academy as a boy-Elyan, a fragile cadet in a world built for beasts.
Every day is a fight to hide what she is. Every night, her scent potion fades a little faster.
Then , there's Baron Ortega-the Alpha prince of RuthValis, her room mate and her temptation. Cold. Lethal. Impossible to ignore. His instincts call her prey, but something in her scent calls him home.
As the Academy spirals into chaos and war rises beyond its walls, Elowyn's lies unravel one by one. Old gods stir, rebels awaken, and a prophecy whispers of an Omega hybrid who can shatter every Alpha's throne.
And Baron... might be the key to her undoing.
In a world where scent means power and love means ruin, Elowyn must choose:
Love Baron Ortega, confess and burn the world or hide and watch the world burn.
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Chapter 7
7 And suddenly, she felt heat creeping up the back her neck again. Her chest felt warm - her scent might be creeping too close to the surface. But she couldn't tell.
Her binding could not dare fade for once or she'd die.
Elowyn stood up quickly, pushing her tray and grabbing her bag.
"Bathroom." she murmured. No one really noticed.
She rushed through the back hallway and ducked into a small tiled washroom near the eastern wall.
The door slammed. She braced both hands against the sink, breathing hard.
Then she reached beneath her coat - pulled out the binding flask.
And drank.
One gulp. Two gulps. Three gulps. Her throat burned as the herbs surged through her system, tightening her scent, cooling her blood.
Her pulse slowed.
She wiped her mouth, stared at herself in the cracked mirror. Her reflection didn't feel like hers anymore.
"I need to write Mia once I get to the dorm." She whispered hoarsely. "She needs to know everything."
This place wasn't just brutal. It was buzzing with wolves - with politics, rank, and teeth.
And she might be one wrong breath away from being torn open.
★★★
★★★
"Dear Elowyn...."
The letter wrote itself with a soft feather pen on a clean sheet of paper, even as Mia lay in the cave lit by blue-glowing moss and the faint hum of her magical familiars.
Their wingless shapes hovered like around her, whispering in a volume only her bloodline could hear.
She'd been here for days. Or weeks. Time moved oddly in the spirit veil.
Alone.
"I'm not supposed to miss you. I'm supposed to be brave. But dear, Elowyn... I'm so lonely."
She hugged her knees to her chest, the parchment hovering mid-air, ink dancing across it with her thoughts.
"This cave - it's deep, cold, and full of memories that don't belong to me. These familiar spirits... they obey. They heal. They serve. But they aren't my family. They aren't you."
She bit her lower lip. Blinked back the sting in her eyes.
"Maybe I shouldn't even be writing this. Maybe you're out there in real danger and I'm here whining. I hate myself for it."
A soft hum rose nearby - two of her oldest familiars, Jahmi and Quenly, materialized briefly beside her. Their voices echoed in the gloom.
"You're being hunted, Mia. Haspan seeks all ties to Elowyn. You must stay veiled. You mustn't speak too loudly through the veil."
She stiffened. She hadn't known it was that bad.
"If they find you...." Quenly said gravely. "....they will use your blood as bait to find her."
Mia reached out and touched the feather pen. It pulsed beneath her fingers.
"So I hide. I stay low. And I dream of you making it out of there."
She sighed softly.
"I'm scared too, El. Your Loyal Friend, Mia."
Her breath trembled. She lay back on the bed and squeezed the floating letter then held it in her fist, it melted into her palm, sealed by magic.
"But if I have to die again to keep you alive, I will." Mia whispered.
She closed her eyes, and the cave dimmed further as her breathing slowed. Sleep tugged at her, and the spirits circled her protectively.
★★★
★★★
Finally, the dreaded class had arrived.
The whole academy came marching in. And as usual, Elowyn was timidly queued behind the mass of able-bodied males.
The scenting arena was no ordinary classroom. It was a large and circular platform surrounded by stone tiers and wooden beams draped with clan flags and designs. It felt ancient. Ceremonial.
Elowyn stood near the edge of the crowd, her fingers trembling lightly as she thought of the flask in her bag.
One sip left.
Just one.
The platform ahead rose slowly. Two instructors stood on it - one broad-shouldered with a bronze neck cuff, and one tall and severe with silver beads in his braids.
"Welcome to the first Scenting Class of the semester," the tall instructor said. His voice echoed, firm and precise. "This is where the truth of who you are will be revealed...."
A beat.
"Scents are not mere natural perfumes. They are the language of the blood."
"They confirm compatibility."
"They signal rank."
"They protect, seduce, deceive, and sometimes... betray."
Murmurs rustled through the students. Some shifted uncomfortably.
"Silence!"
Silence.
Elowyn kept her face blank.
"Scenting...." the male added. "....is the only law nature never lies about."
The speaker stepped forward.
"Now, those of you who are naturally gifted in scenting, step forward. Stand in the circle. Seniors, follow. Three straight lines."
A dozen new cadets moved instantly - many alphas, a few betas, one or two with golden clan bands. Some newbies, too. Elowyn stayed frozen.
"Gifted newbies will each walk among the other newbies, betas and alpha seniors...." the broad-shouldered man said. "....and choose who their instincts identify as a potential pack-fellow. Now. Seniors, queue at that corner."
Gasps and excitement stirred the group. A few cadets puffed stood straight. Some looked anxious.
There was an instant rearrangement.
The newbies who were good at scenting were left in the circle.
"There is no talking. No gestures. Just scent. Let your wolf decide. You can shut your eyes."
And the junior, natural scenters stepped into the arena.
Elowyn's heart nearly stopped.
Because the boy who had said creepy things to her at the gathering hall at 5:00 AM was looking at her somehow and had joined them - his eyes sharp, his nose twitching already like he was looking for something.
Or someone.
And she was standing at the back of the queue.
Scent still bound. But barely. Maybe.
And Baron? Standing far to the left, arms folded, gaze unreadable.
Please.... please stop looking at me, Elowyn begged in her head silently.
But the game had already begun.
One by one, the scent-gifted cadets closed their eyes, bowed their heads, and began to move through the still crowd.
Their movements were slow, predatory. Almost reverent.
The boy moved like a bloodhound on the trail. Not too fast. Not too eager. But with purpose. He sniffed as he passed each row, pausing at some shoulders, dismissing others without so much as a glance.
Elowyn's breath slowed. She needed to try and relax.
Baron's gaze flicked to her from where he stood. For a moment, it looked like his eyes narrowed - not in suspicion, but recognition. His wolf, already strained, might be responding. Again.
The strange newbie was drawing closer.
She looked away. Bit the inside of her cheek.
Another new cadet, a bulky silver-haired Beta, suddenly froze in front of a tall Alpha at the edge. He opened his eyes, nodded once.
"This one." he said. "My wolf recognizes his bloodline."
Cheers rose. The Alpha clapped him on the back. The instructors scribbled something.
Lucian moved forward again.
Now he was just two rows away.
Elowyn clenched her fists.
Don't sniff me. Don't sniff me.
Then, it happened.
Lucian paused.
Dead center in front of her row.
The air shifted.
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8.5
Our twenty-first birthday was supposed to be the night my twin and I would never forget--the night we got our witchmarks. But something goes horribly wrong, and Angelica doesn't get hers. What should've been the best night of our lives quickly turns into one of the worst.
Soon after, things start to go wrong. Our mom, who had always loved her "little moon" (me) and her "little sun" (Angelica) equally, suddenly sides with Angelica on everything. Then, my friends start to behave oddly around me. But it gets even worse. The company we started together as sisters votes to oust me? Shocked, I go to my long--term boyfriend, Orion Locklear--the boy I have loved my whole life--for comfort, only to find him and Angelica in her room...naked.
How could she do all this to me? Not only as a sister, betraying everything we once shared....but as a powerless markless? I'm the one who got the witchmark, not her! Yet I wasn't able to stop any of this from happening. Something isn't adding up.
I refuse to sit back any longer and let her continue to ruin my life. It's time to claw my way back up to the top and reclaim everything she took from me...even if it means I have to join hands with witch-kind's historical mortal enemies: the super powerful, super rich Hunter family--yup, they used to hunt witches, and only stopped when we agreed to give up Black Magic. Oh, and of course, the guy I'm assigned to work with, Miles Hunter, has to be super hot, too. Seven Hells! Can't a girl catch a break?

8.1
HOSTILE OATH
8.1
Vivian bears the weight of an ancestral curse, a yoke forged in darkness, which was meant to be broken. A future ravaged by war and chaos loomed, threatening her destiny but Vivian's path was not yet set to answer to her inheritance. Ignorant of her true identity, she couldn't control the powers she possessed, losing loved ones in the process and consumed by self-guilt. Yet, from the ashes of despair, she felt the rage and determination to harness the powers consuming her in her shadow and forge a new path; maybe she could get back all she had lost in all possible ways she could.
Prophecy were made, and a formidable force stirred, rising to challenge her claim. When a greater threat arose, Vivian faced a brutal reality: prepare for battle or succumb to the shadows but there was a price to pay.
She was left with two options; reclaim her birthright or shatter the chains of destiny!

7.7
I trusted the wrong people in my past life.
My supposed lover and my sweet sister conspired against me, locking me inside a burning warehouse to die.
But the man I had spent my life hating, my ruthless captor Damien Sterling, rushed straight into that inferno and burned alive just to try and save me.
In my past life, I was utterly blind. I believed Julian's forged documents and Scarlett's fake affection. I even tried to assassinate Damien with a silver dagger they provided, breaking the heart of the only man who truly loved me. I died choking on thick ash, realizing too late who the real monsters were.
Why was I so incredibly foolish? Why did I let their vicious manipulation turn me into a weapon against the one person who would sacrifice absolutely everything for me?
Opening my eyes again, the phantom smell of smoke vanished.
I was sitting in the bloody water of Damien's bathtub, right after my staged suicide attempt.
When my sister sneaked into my penthouse suite and handed me the dagger to kill him again, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed her hand tightly and plunged the sharp blade directly into my own shoulder.
"Please don't kill me, Scarlett!"
This time, I will ruthlessly ruin them both, and I will never let Damien go.

7.9
On my eighteenth birthday, the celestial pact hiding my aura finally expired. I stood on the rotting steps of the trailer, watching my foster family celebrate my eviction like they’d won the lottery. Brenda threw a liability waiver at me to sign, ensuring I’d never ask for a dime of their welfare checks again. Worse, her daughter Regina stood there smirking, flaunting the heirloom emerald bracelet she’d stolen from my secret stash—unaware it was a spiritual artifact soaked in fifty years of blood magic. "Consider it payment for room and board, freak," Regina sneered, forcing the silver band over her wrist. They thought they were discarding a burden. They didn't realize I was the only dam holding back a tidal wave of their own bad karma. As I signed the papers, voluntarily severing our ties, the air pressure plummeted. The bracelet began to constrict like a snake, turning Regina’s flesh a necrotic purple as the protection I offered vanished. Before they could scream, a matte black helicopter bearing the Sterling Industries crest descended onto the muddy lawn, blowing their plastic lawn chairs into the neighbor's yard. A man in a bespoke charcoal suit stepped out, ignoring the filth to bow before me. He looked at my terrified foster family and announced, "We are here to retrieve the Sterling heiress." I smiled at Regina, whose arm was already beginning to rot, and whispered, "Keep the bracelet. You'll need it to pay for the amputation."

7.3
Ciel Miller opened her eyes to the blinding lights of a Manhattan ballroom, realizing she had been reborn on the exact night her life was ruined.
On the stage, the billionaire patriarch of the Chavez family was proudly announcing her engagement to his arrogant grandson, Harry.
In her past life, Ciel had blindly accepted his outstretched hand. That single step plunged her into a suffocating marriage filled with public humiliation and psychological torture, slowly draining her life away until she died. Harry had treated her like a pathetic stray dog, flaunting his absolute ownership while systematically destroying her.
Now, as the polite applause echoed, Harry extended his hand with a sickening smirk, waiting for her to lower her head and submit.
Instead, Ciel stood perfectly rigid and publicly rejected him in front of the entire New York elite.
Harry's face drained of color, while his family quickly mocked her.
"This is a cheap, embarrassing trick to get his attention," his sister sneered.
Harry's arrogant smirk crawled back. He fully believed she was just throwing a childish tantrum to make him jealous, convinced she was absolutely nothing without his wealth and status.
But Ciel looked at the man who had killed her in her past life with freezing disgust.
Then, she turned to the powerful patriarch and dropped a bombshell that left the entire ballroom gasping for air.
"If the family insists on taking care of me, I will marry into the Chavez family."
"But I want to marry the comatose war hero. I want to marry General Deacon Chavez."
She would rather spend the rest of her life with a "vegetable" than wake up next to a monster.

8.3
"I have two offers for you." Doctor Wayne handed me a cup of juice.
I don't like this at all. I gulped down the juice thirstily. "What are they?"
"The alpha is in need of a surrogate mother and Luna for five years. He's willing to pay a fortune, no strings attached, and after that five years, he will divorce you and take the child."
"O.kay." I swallowed hard, trying to hide my apprehension. "And, the second offer?"
His gaze locked with mine. "I inject you with a different sperm, you become his Luna but before the end of your five year contract, you MUST kill the Alpha."
I flinched. My heart hammered with fear, and my wolf became restless inside me.
"I. I."
He smiled. It was a vile smile. "You know you will never amount to anything. So, you can either accept my bidding, save your mom and secure a future for yourself or refuse my offer and wait for your weak mother in hell. You have five minutes to decide." ******************************************
My name is Aurora and I'm the legitimate bastard of the Beta family. I have been poisoned, and now it's my life versus that of our ruthless Alpha.
It's up to the goddess to decide whether I'd ace or fail this mission, but whatever the outcome is.loving the Alpha is NOT an option.