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The Alpha's Regret: He Lost His Fated White Wolf Novel Cover

The Alpha's Regret: He Lost His Fated White Wolf

I was drowning in the pool, chlorine burning my lungs, but my fated mate, Jax, swam right past me. He scooped up Catalina, the swim team captain who was faking a cramp, and carried her to safety like she was made of glass. When I dragged myself out, shivering and humiliated, Jax didn't offer a hand. Instead, he glared at me with cold hazel eyes. "Stop acting like a victim, Eliana," he spat in front of the whole pack. "You're just jealous." He was the Alpha Heir, and I was the unshifted failure. He broke our bond piece by piece, culminating at the sacred Moon Tree where he slashed through our carved initials to replace them with hers. But the final blow wasn't emotional; it was lethal. Catalina threw my car keys into a pond laced with Wolfsbane. As the poison paralyzed my limbs and I sank into the dark water, unable to breathe, I saw Jax standing on the bank. "Stop playing games!" he shouted at the ripples. He turned his back and walked away, leaving me to die. I survived, but the girl who loved him didn't. I finally accepted the rejection he never had the guts to speak. Jax thought I would crawl back in a week. He thought I was nothing without the pack's protection. He was wrong. I moved to New York and walked into a dance studio, right into the arms of a True Alpha named Daryl. And when I finally shifted, I wasn't a weak Omega. I was a White Wolf. By the time Jax realized what he had thrown away, I was already a Queen.
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Chapter 2

Eliana POV:

The next morning, the sun felt intrusive. It glared through my window, demanding I wake up and face a reality I didn't want.

My room was bare. The walls, once covered in photos of us, were now blank. Four garbage bags sat by the door.

I had one last thing to do.

I drove to the Alpha's house. It was a massive estate in the center of the pack lands, screaming wealth and power. My hands gripped the steering wheel of my old sedan until my knuckles turned white.

I had a small box in the passenger seat. Inside was the silver promise ring he gave me when we were sixteen. It wasn't a mating mark, but in our world, it meant *intent*.

I parked and walked up the steps. Luna Maria, Jax's mother, opened the door.

"Ellie, dear!" She smiled warmly, pulling me into a hug. She didn't know. "Jax is upstairs. Go on up."

"Thank you, Luna Maria," I said, my voice hollow.

I walked up the grand staircase. The hallway usually smelled like lemon polish and old wood. Today, it smelled like something else.

Nauseatingly sweet. Artificial vanilla.

*Catalina.*

My stomach churned. The scent was coming from Jax's bedroom.

The door was ajar. I pushed it open.

Jax was sitting on his bed, shirtless. Catalina was sitting on the floor between his legs, and he was braiding her wet hair.

The intimacy of it hit me harder than a punch. Braiding hair was something wolves did for their mates. It was a grooming ritual. A sign of care.

He had never braided my hair.

"Jax," I said.

His head snapped up. Catalina turned, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Eliana," Jax sighed, dropping a strand of Catalina's hair. "What are you doing here? Did you come to apologize for yesterday?"

Apologize?

I walked forward and placed the velvet box on his dresser. "I came to return this."

Jax stared at the box. He knew what was inside. His jaw tightened. "Stop being dramatic. You're overreacting."

"Am I?" I gestured to the room, thick with Catalina's scent. "Your room smells like her, Jax. You haven't even marked her, and you're letting her scent-mark your territory. It's disrespectful to the bond."

"The bond?" Catalina laughed. It was a tinkling, cruel sound. "What bond? You can't even shift, Ellie. You're practically a human pet. Jax needs a real wolf. A strong wolf."

"Catalina," Jax warned, but there was no heat in it.

"She's right," I said, looking Jax dead in the eye. "I might not have my wolf yet, but I know what a mate is supposed to be. And it's not you."

I turned to leave.

"Wait!" Jax stood up. "You don't get to walk away from me!"

I kept walking. I reached the top of the stairs.

"Hey!" Catalina rushed past me, cutting me off. "He's talking to you!"

"Get out of my way," I said quietly.

"Make me," she sneered. She stepped closer, invading my personal space. Then, she did something I didn't expect.

She didn't just stumble. She launched herself backward.

It was theatrical and ridiculous. She let out a scream and tumbled down the first three steps, landing on the landing with a thud.

"Ah! My ankle!" she wailed.

"Catalina!" Jax roared. He shoved past me, his shoulder checking me hard into the wall.

The impact was brutal. I stumbled, losing my footing on the slick hardwood. I didn't have wolf reflexes to catch myself.

I fell.

I tumbled down the entire flight of stairs, my body slamming against the sharp edges of the wood. I hit the bottom floor with a sickening crunch. My head cracked against the floorboards.

Pain exploded in my ribs and my skull. Warm blood trickled down my forehead, blinding my left eye.

"Ellie!" Luna Maria's voice came from the kitchen.

I groaned, trying to push myself up. My vision swam.

Jax was at the top of the stairs, kneeling beside Catalina. She was clutching her ankle, squeezing out fake tears.

"She pushed me, Jax!" Catalina sobbed. "She tried to kill me!"

Jax looked down at me. I was bleeding on his floor. I was broken at the bottom of his stairs.

His eyes were wild, fueled by adrenaline and Catalina's lies. "You are vicious," Jax spat at me, his voice dripping with disgust. "And weak. If you touch her again, Eliana, I will banish you myself. I don't care what our parents say."

He picked Catalina up—again—and carried her toward his room.

"Mom, get the pack doctor for Cat," he yelled over his shoulder. "Ellie can see herself out."

I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The chandelier above me was blurry.

Luna Maria was rushing toward me, horror on her face. "Oh, goddess, Ellie..."

"Don't," I whispered, pushing her hand away.

I dragged myself up. Every inch of my body screamed in protest. My healing was slow, human-speed. This would bruise. This would scar.

But the physical pain was a distraction. It was a relief, actually. It was easier to focus on a bleeding head than a bleeding soul.

I limped out the front door, leaving a trail of red droplets on the pristine porch.

I got into my car. I didn't go to the pack hospital. I went to the pharmacy, bought rubbing alcohol and bandages, and drove to a secluded overlook.

I cleaned the cut on my head myself, hissing as the alcohol burned.

*I reject this,* I thought, looking out over the town lights. I wasn't strong enough to say the ritual words yet—the bond was too old, too deep—but I could build a wall.

I closed my eyes and imagined a brick wall in my mind. Brick by brick, I sealed off the place where Jax lived in my head.

The connection dimmed. It didn't break, but it went quiet.

I was alone. And for the first time, I preferred it that way.

*

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