Rejected Omega, Secret Bride of the Billionaire Lycan

Elenor POV

The neon sign of the Tribeca bar flickered, casting a sickly red glow over the sticky wooden counter. I stared at the amber liquid in my glass, the cheap whiskey burning my throat, but it did nothing to numb the phantom pain tearing at my chest.

Three hours. It had been three hours since my entire world shattered under the crystal chandeliers of the Thornton Pack's Annual Unity Gala.

I was supposed to be Caleb’s secret weapon, the brilliant assistant who managed his Pack's affairs behind the scenes. But when the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack paraded his beautiful, pure-blooded daughter in front of him, Caleb hadn't just cast me aside. He had slaughtered my dignity.

I closed my eyes, but I could still hear his cruel, dismissive voice echoing over the clinking of champagne glasses.

*"Her? She's just a wolfless charity case my Pack took in. Barely an Omega. Don't take her seriously."*

*Wolfless.* The word was a silver-dipped dagger, twisting into my deepest wound. In the werewolf world, being wolfless meant you were defective. A burden. I had spent years enduring the Pack's whispers, letting Caleb control me just to prove my worth. And in one breath, he had reduced my existence to a pathetic joke just to make himself look available.

"Hey, sweetheart. A pretty thing like you shouldn't be drinking alone."

A heavy, sweaty hand clamped down on my thigh. I flinched, my eyes snapping open. Two human men had boxed me in. The one touching me reeked of stale beer and unwashed clothes.

"Let go of me," I muttered, trying to shove his hand away. But without a wolf to grant me strength, my push was embarrassingly weak.

"Come on, don't be a bitch," the second man sneered, leaning in closer.

Panic flared in my chest. I tried to slide off the barstool, but they pressed closer, trapping me. I was too exhausted, too broken to fight.

Then, the temperature in the bar plummeted.

It wasn't a draft. It was a suffocating, terrifying weight that instantly crushed the oxygen out of the room. A scent washed over me—a violent, intoxicating blend of sharp cedarwood, a raging rainstorm, and rich Cuban tobacco. It was an Alpha's aura, but heavier and darker than anything I had ever felt in the Thornton Pack.

The human man's hand was suddenly ripped from my thigh. He didn't even have time to scream before he was thrown backward, crashing into a table of empty bottles. His friend took one look at the towering figure standing behind me and bolted out the door, driven by pure, primal terror.

I slowly turned my head.

He stood there like a mountain of lethal grace. He was dressed in a bespoke black suit that stretched over broad, muscular shoulders. But it was his eyes that made my breath hitch—deep, charcoal-gray pools swirling with a possessive fury that seemed entirely directed at me.

I didn't know him. I had never seen him before. Yet, the moment his gaze locked onto mine, a strange, violent shiver wrecked through my spine.

He didn't spare a single glance at the groaning man on the floor. He just stared down at me, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek.

"You're coming with me."

His voice was a low, gravelly rumble. It wasn't a request. It was an absolute, undeniable command.

Every instinct I had screamed at me to run. He was dangerous. A predator. But as he reached out and his large, calloused hand wrapped around my wrist, a jolt of pure electricity shot up my arm. The spark was so intense it made my knees buckle.

I was wolfless. I shouldn't be feeling this.

But the whiskey, the heartbreak, and the sheer, overwhelming dominance radiating from him stripped away my last ounce of resistance. I let him pull me away from the sticky bar, out into the cool autumn night of New York.

A black, armored Maybach idled at the curb like a waiting beast. He opened the heavy door and guided me inside, sliding into the back seat right next to me.

The door shut with a solid thud, sealing us in. The spacious interior was completely saturated with his cedar and rainstorm scent. I pressed myself against the cold leather of the door, my head spinning wildly as the car pulled away from the curb, carrying me away from Caleb, away from my past, and into the terrifying unknown.