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Rejected for the Omega: The Alpha's Regret Novel Cover

Rejected for the Omega: The Alpha's Regret

To the outside world, I was the envy of every she-wolf as the fiancée of Alpha Kael. But inside the gilded cage of his pack house, I was a ghost. I molded myself into perfection for him, wearing the colors he liked and suppressing my own voice. Until I walked past his study and saw him with Lyra—the orphan he called his "sister." His hand rested intimately on her thigh as he laughed, telling her, "Elara is just a political necessity. You are the moon in my sky." My heart shattered, but the physical blow came days later. During a training exercise, the safety cable snapped. I fell twenty feet, shattering my leg. Lying in the dirt, gasping through the pain, I watched my Fated Mate run. Not to me. He ran to Lyra, who was burying her face in his chest, feigning terror. He comforted her while I bled. Later, in the infirmary, I heard him whisper to her, "She won't die. It will just teach her who the real Luna is." He knew. He knew she had sabotaged the rope with silver, and he was protecting her attempted murder. The final thread of my love incinerated into ash. The next morning, I walked into the Council Hall, threw a thick file on the table, and looked the Elders in the eye. "I am dissolving the engagement," I stated coldly. "And I am withdrawing my family's silver supply. I will starve this Pack until you beg." Kael laughed, thinking I was bluffing. He didn't notice the lethal Beta from the rival pack standing in the shadows behind me, ready to help me burn Kael's kingdom to the ground.
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Chapter 4

Elara POV

Three weeks.

That was how long it took for the bone to knit and the bruises to fade.

My leg had finally healed, though no thanks to the Pack's infirmary. It was the high-grade elixirs shipped discreetly from my family that did the work.

Tonight was the Charity Auction-a playground for the rich, the powerful, and the pretenders.

I didn't walk in with Kael.

I walked in with Liam.

Beta Liam.

He was the heir to the Crescent Pack, a rival faction notorious for their immense wealth and cutting-edge technology. He stood at the entrance, a figure of dark elegance, and offered me his arm.

"You look like war, Elara," he murmured, his gaze lingering appreciatively on the sharp, violent cut of my crimson dress.

"I feel like it," I replied, my voice steady.

We took our seats at a VIP table directly opposite Kael and Lyra.

Lyra was draped in white silk, posing like a fragile, innocent flower. Beside her, Kael's eyes narrowed instantly, locking onto Liam's hand where it rested possessively on the back of my chair.

The tension was thick enough to choke on.

The auctioneer stepped into the spotlight, unveiling the final item of the night.

"The Tear of the Moon Goddess."

A collective hush fell over the room. It was a sapphire necklace, the gems glowing with an inner light, rumored to enhance the spiritual bond between Fated Mates.

Lyra gasped, her hand flying to her throat. "Oh, Kael... it's breathtaking."

"Bidding starts at fifty thousand," the auctioneer announced.

"One hundred thousand," I said, raising my paddle before the words had fully left his mouth.

Kael's head snapped toward me. His glare was lethal. "One hundred and fifty."

"Two hundred," I countered, not blinking.

Lyra leaned into Kael, her voice pitched just loud enough to carry. "Sister really wants it. Maybe we should let her have it... even though it would look so much better on a Luna."

Kael's jaw tightened. He couldn't let the challenge slide. He needed to prove Lyra was the true queen of this court.

"Three hundred thousand."

"Five hundred thousand," I said calmly.

The room gasped. Whispers erupted like wildfire. This was an insane amount for jewelry, even for wolves.

"One million," Kael growled.

He stood up, buttoning his suit jacket with deliberate, predatory slowness. "And as Alpha, I am hereby freezing the assets of the Elara family accounts held within the Blood Moon banking system."

The room went deathly silent.

He was using his Alpha authority to cut off my financial lifeline in the middle of a public auction.

"Payment is required immediately upon winning," the auctioneer stammered, looking at me with wide, nervous eyes.

I checked my phone. A notification flashed across the screen in red:

Account Status: FROZEN.

"Looks like you can't pay," Kael smirked, the cruelty in his eyes dancing. "The necklace goes to Lyra."

He strode up to the stage, authorized the transaction with the Pack's unlimited funds, and clasped the sapphire chain around Lyra's neck.

She beamed, fingering the cold jewels, and looked at me with a triumphant, pitying smile.

"It fits her better anyway," Kael announced to the silent crowd. "Jewelry is for those who shine."

Humiliation burned hot across my cheeks. The crowd whispered behind their hands.

The rejected mate. The broke heiress.

Liam stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"I will pay for her," he declared, his voice booming.

"Your money is no good here, Beta Liam," Kael snapped, turning his back on us. "This is a Blood Moon event. Our banking firewall rejects all outside transfers. You know the rules."

He had rigged the system. He wanted to crush me completely, leaving me with nothing but the clothes on my back.

I stood up.

I didn't cry.

I didn't run.

I looked Kael dead in the eye, channeling every ounce of my bloodline's pride.

"Enjoy the necklace, Lyra," I said, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

She blinked, confused.

"It looks like a collar on a dog."

I turned on my heel and walked out, head held high. Liam followed close behind, his presence a solid wall at my back.

Outside, under the pale moonlight, I paused and looked back at the illuminated hall where they were celebrating my defeat.

"He thinks he owns the world," I muttered, the anger simmering in my gut.

"He owns a small piece of land," Liam said, his voice deep and dangerous beside my ear. "We can buy the rest."

I looked up at the moon, making a silent vow.

"Alpha Kael," I swore into the night.

"Your arrogance is your epitaph."

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