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The Rejected Omega: Rise of the White Wolf Novel Cover

The Rejected Omega: Rise of the White Wolf

I was the dust beneath the pack's feet, an Omega nobody wanted. Yet, the Moon Goddess paired me with Ethan Reed, the Alpha heir. He told me he had amnesia, that he couldn't feel our bond. I was foolish enough to wait for him. Until I saw him running away with his mistress, Chloe. When their SUV flipped and caught fire on the highway, I didn't hesitate. I dragged Ethan from the wreckage, my hands bleeding, my heart racing. But as soon as he was safe, he didn't check on me. "Save her!" He roared, his eyes flashing gold. He used the Alpha Command. My body locked up, forced to obey against my will. I dove back into the burning car to drag Chloe out, shattering my leg as the fuel tank exploded. I lay in the dirt, dying, while Ethan cradled Chloe—who had barely a scratch. When the healers arrived, Ethan stood over me, cold and indifferent. "Do not touch the Omega until Chloe is treated," he ordered. He looked me in the eye and called me weak. He left me to bleed out in the cold night air for the sake of a woman who smirked at my pain. Something inside me snapped. With my last breath, I didn't beg. I rejected him. They buried an empty coffin the next morning. Three years later, I walked back into the Blood Moon Pack. I wasn't Ava the servant anymore. I was the White Wolf. And I was ready to burn his kingdom to the ground.
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Chapter 4

POV: Olivia Carter (formerly Ava)

Three years later.

The neon sign of *Carter Creative Designs* hummed softly against the twilight glass.

I stood before the floor-to-ceiling window of my office, watching the rain blur the lights of the bustling Seattle streets below.

I took a sip of my coffee. Black. Bitter. Just the way I liked it now.

"Luna?"

I turned slowly.

Leo, a young wolf I had found shivering in an alleyway six months ago, stood hesitantly at the door.

"I told you not to call me that in the office, Leo," I said, my voice soft but firm.

"Sorry, Olivia. But we have a problem. A group of Rogues was spotted near the warehouse district. They're harassing the new shipment."

I set my cup down with a sharp *clink*.

My eyes flashed molten silver for a fraction of a second.

"Let's go."

In the last three years, I hadn't just built a design firm. I had built a sanctuary.

My staff were all outcasts. Wolves who had been rejected, abused, or exiled from their packs. I gave them jobs, housing, and protection. We weren't an official pack, but we were a family. A family forged in fire.

I drove my car—a sleek silver Audi that I had bought with my own hard-earned money—to the warehouse district.

Three large, scruffy men were cornering one of my drivers against the loading dock.

The air smelled of stale sweat, cheap tobacco, and aggression.

"Hey!" I shouted, stepping out of the car and slamming the door.

The leader of the Rogues turned. He sneered when he saw me.

Thanks to Maya's scent-masking formula, which I had perfected into a daily pill, I smelled like nothing more than a weak, human female.

"Get lost, sweetheart," he growled, looking me up and down. "Unless you want to be dessert."

I didn't flinch. I walked straight up to him, my heels clicking rhythmically on the pavement.

"This is my territory," I said calmly. "Leave. Now."

He laughed —a harsh, barking sound— and lunged at me, his claws extending.

I didn't even shift. I just let a fraction of my Alpha aura leak out.

The pressure in the air dropped instantly, heavy as lead.

The Rogue froze mid-air, his eyes bulging as if an invisible hand had wrapped around his throat.

My White Wolf power slammed into him like a freight train.

"Kneel," I commanded.

It wasn't a shout. It was a whisper that carried the weight of a mountain.

The Rogue crashed to his knees, cracking the asphalt, whining in terror.

His friends scrambled backward, tails tucked between their legs in primal fear.

"Get out," I said.

They scrambled away, tripping over themselves to escape into the shadows.

Leo looked at me with awe. "You're getting stronger."

"We have to be," I said, smoothing the lapels of my blazer. "The world isn't kind to us."

Later that evening, needing to come down from the adrenaline, I decided to visit a small antique bookstore downtown.

It was my only indulgence. I loved the smell of old paper and ink—it was the scent of peace.

I was browsing the history section, reaching for a leather-bound book on the top shelf.

Another hand reached for it at the same time.

Our fingers brushed.

*Zap.*

A jolt of electricity shot up my arm, so powerful it nearly knocked the wind out of me.

My heart hammered against my ribs—*thump, thump, thump*—like a war drum.

My wolf, who had been sleeping dormant for years, roared awake.

*MINE!*

I gasped and yanked my hand back as if burned.

I looked up.

Standing there was a man who looked like he had been carved from granite.

He had dark, messy hair and eyes the color of molten gold. He was wearing a simple flannel shirt, but I could see the powerful muscles rippling underneath.

And the smell.

Cedarwood. Dark chocolate. And the crisp, ozone scent of a winter storm.

It hit me harder than Ethan's scent ever had. It didn't just smell good; it smelled like *home*. It smelled like safety.

He stared at me, his golden eyes wide with shock. He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he took me in.

"Mate," he rumbled.

His voice was deep, vibrating through the floorboards and straight into my core.

I took a step back, panic rising in my throat like bile.

No. Not again.

I had sworn off Alphas. I had sworn off the bond. It only led to pain.

"No," I whispered, my voice trembling.

I turned and ran.

"Wait!" he called out.

I didn't stop. I rushed out of the store and into the rainy street, my heart racing faster than my feet could carry me.

A Second Chance Mate.

The Moon Goddess was cruel.

She had given me another perfect match, right when I had finally learned to stand on my own.

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