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The Alpha's Ultimate Mistake: Rejecting the Secret Heir Novel Cover

The Alpha's Ultimate Mistake: Rejecting the Secret Heir

For six years, I played the pathetic, wolfless Omega to honor the dying wish of the late Alpha who protected me. But on our sixth anniversary, my fated mate, Alpha Kian, was photographed looking tenderly at his mistress. When he finally stormed into our penthouse, he didn't apologize. Instead, he threw a fifty-million-dollar check onto the bed. "Take the money and accept my rejection obediently, or I'll show you what happens when you defy an Alpha." To force my compliance, he terminated all trade agreements with my best friend's pack, pushing them to the brink of bankruptcy. He accused me of blackmailing his grandfather into our marriage, entirely blind to the fact that his beloved mistress was actually a banished, feral Rogue. I had spent six years swallowing my pride, drinking toxic herbs to suppress my true White Wolf scent, and enduring his absolute disgust just to keep his pack safe. Why did I bleed for a man who despised my very existence? I looked at the blood money, and the suffocating sorrow in my chest was instantly replaced by white-hot fury. I didn't take a single cent. Instead, I submitted the rejection papers myself, dropped my pathetic disguise, and walked out into the freezing rain. A towering warrior with a black umbrella dropped to one knee before me in the mud. It was time to stop hiding and return home as the billionaire heir of the legendary Silvermoon Pack.
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Chapter 3

Adella POV

The heavy door of the armored SUV clicked shut, sealing away the freezing rain and the remnants of my shattered life. I sank into the plush leather seats, the scent of winter pine and Silas’s warrior aura grounding me. It was a moving fortress, safe and entirely disconnected from the Blackwood Pack territory I was leaving behind.

Before Silas could even start the engine, a booming, authoritative voice echoed in my head.

*“Come home, child. This humiliation ends now.”*

It was my grandfather, Alpha Baron Gray of the Silvermoon Pack. His mind-link was so powerful it made my temples throb.

I closed my eyes, fortifying my mental walls. *“No, Grandfather. I won’t return as a broken, rejected Omega. I won't let Kian think he broke me.”*

*“You are a White Wolf, the sole heir to my legacy!”* Baron growled through the link, his protective fury bleeding into my mind. *“You have nothing to prove to that arrogant pup.”*

*“I have everything to prove to myself,”* I countered fiercely. *“Give me one year. Let me stay in his city.”*

A heavy silence stretched across the mental bond. When Baron finally spoke, his tone was pure, uncompromising Alpha. *“Fine. But we do this my way. You will take over all Silvermoon operations in that city. You have one year to increase our wealth and influence there by thirty percent—three billion dollars. If you fail, you abandon this revenge game, come home, and accept the mate I’ve chosen for you: Evander Frost.”*

My breath hitched. Evander was the legendary Healer of the Stonecreek Pack. A powerful, respectable man, but marrying him would mean trading one gilded cage for another.

*“Deal,”* I replied, severing the link before he could sense my hesitation.

I opened my eyes. The sorrow that had weighed me down for six years evaporated, replaced by a cold, sharp clarity. I looked at the driver's seat.

"Silas," I said, my voice carrying a new, unfamiliar authority. "Tap into the Pack's emergency reserves. Before sunrise, I want a rock-solid, exclusive trade alliance established with Asia's Woodlands Pack. Whatever Kian cut off, we compensate tenfold. Make sure the alliance announcement is sitting on Kian Blackwood’s desk first thing tomorrow morning."

Silas met my gaze in the rearview mirror, a fierce, proud smile spreading across his face. "Consider it done, my Alpha."

Later that night, the heavy bass of a high-end, neutral-territory club vibrated through the floorboards. Asia had dragged me out, insisting we celebrate my "liberation."

For the first time in six years, I hadn't taken the bitter wolfsbane herbs Alvah had prescribed to mask my true nature. I was done hiding.

My true scent—the intoxicating, pure aroma of a White Wolf—bloomed into the stifling air. It was a potent mix of night-blooming tuberose, rich vanilla, and crisp moonlight, a scent designed by the Moon Goddess to bring any male wolf to his knees. I had traded my baggy, drab clothes for a backless emerald silk dress that clung to my curves, letting the world see exactly who I was.

I was laughing, swaying on the crowded dance floor with Asia. A stranger had stepped close, his hand lightly resting on my waist as we moved to the rhythm, but I barely noticed him. I was too busy drowning in the euphoric feeling of my own freedom.

Then, the air in the club suddenly shifted.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I glanced toward the VIP entrance and froze.

Kian was walking in, Ember clinging tightly to his arm. But he wasn't looking at her. He had stopped dead in his tracks, his tall frame rigid. Even from across the dimly lit room, I saw his storm-gray eyes dilate until they were almost entirely black. His nostrils flared, taking in the overwhelming, unmasked scent I was finally unleashing.

The mate-bond, dormant and suffocated by my herbs for six years, slammed into him with the force of a freight train. I could practically feel his inner wolf roaring in my direction, tearing through the club's atmosphere with violent possessiveness.

His gaze locked onto mine, dropping to the stranger's hand on my waist, and the entire world around us ceased to exist.

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