The Rejected Omega's Secret Royal Lycan Bloodline
I spent two years scrubbing locker room floors and collecting trash just to buy gifts for my girlfriend, Sylvia. I thought she was the only one who didn't care that I was a "wolfless" Omega.
But the day before my eighteenth birthday, I caught her in the arms of Dixon, our pack's future Alpha.
She laughed in my face, calling me a scentless puppy and admitting our entire relationship was just a cruel bet. When I lunged at him, Dixon beat me half to death. He pinned my bleeding face to the wet tiles with his combat boot and used a permanent marker to scrawl "WOLFLESS LOSER" across my chest. My pack cheered, and even at a party later, the people I thought were my friends treated me like a contagious disease.
I laid in my cramped dorm, suffocating under the crushing despair. Why was I born so weak? Why did I have to endure this brutal humiliation just for existing?
Then, my phone buzzed with an unknown number, and a cold, elegant voice spoke.
"Your trial is over, Aden. You are a royal Lycan, and your hundred-million-dollar trust fund has been activated."
Looking at the impossible string of zeros on my screen, the ancient beast in my blood finally woke up. It was time to make the Alpha who broke me choke on his own arrogance.
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Chapter 5
Aden POV
The Azure Galleria was a temple of excess, a sprawling indoor sanctuary of marble and glass where Jork City's elite came to flaunt their wealth. The air here was thick, suffocatingly heavy with the meticulously crafted pheromones of dominant Alphas and high-society Lunas. It was an invisible, rigid hierarchy of scent, and as I walked through the gleaming corridors in my faded gray hoodie and worn-out sneakers, I was a ghost.
I stepped into Sanderson Profumeria, the crown jewel of the Galleria. The boutique was blindingly pristine, designed in stark, minimalist white that made the colorful, diamond-shaped perfume bottles pop under the spotlights.
Before browsing for Brooklyn's gift, I headed toward the back corridor to use the restroom.
"Excuse me, sir."
A female sales associate stepped into my path. Her makeup was flawless, her smile entirely synthetic. As her eyes dropped to my scuffed sneakers, the smile vanished. I watched her perfectly contoured nose twitch slightly as she took a subtle breath, searching for an Alpha or even a basic Warrior scent. Finding nothing, her eyes hardened with undisguised contempt.
"The restrooms are strictly reserved for our esteemed guests," she said, her tone dripping with polite venom.
The old Aden would have flushed with shame and walked away. But the dormant Lycan in my blood stirred, sending a wave of glacial, calculating anger through my veins. I didn't argue. I just met her gaze with a dead, cold stare.
"I am browsing," I said flatly, stepping around her and continuing down the hall.
As the restroom door clicked shut behind me, I heard her mutter to a colleague, "Scentless and shameless."
I splashed cold water on my face, letting the chill center me. I had a hundred million dollars in my pocket. Their petty judgments meant nothing anymore.
But as I pushed the restroom door open to return to the showroom, a sound froze the blood in my veins. A familiar, breathy giggle.
I stopped behind a sleek display pillar. There, standing at the main counter, were Sylvia and Dixon.
Sylvia was wrapped around Dixon's arm like a parasitic vine, her body pressed flush against his side as she greedily inhaled the dark pine and heavy musk radiating from him. Dixon had his large hand resting possessively on her hip, deliberately pushing his Alpha pheromones into the air to claim his territory.
The mixture of his arrogant musk and her sweet vanilla scent hit the back of my throat. Yesterday, it would have broken my heart. Today, it just made me physically nauseous. Looking at her flushed, fawning face, she looked terrifyingly like a stranger. She wasn't a girl I loved; she was just a hollow shell chasing the strongest scent in the room.
My Lycan roared in the back of my mind—a primal, territorial fury demanding I tear the throat out of the male touching what was once mine. I forced the beast down, watching them closely.
"Oh, Dixon, look at this one," Sylvia cooed, pointing to a stunning, diamond-shaped purple bottle resting on a velvet pedestal under a spotlight.
The sales associate—the same one who had stopped me—beamed. "Ah, the *Liquid Diamond*. Crafted by the legendary perfumer Adelard. It contains pure Moonpetal extract, designed to amplify and beautify a dominant wolf's pheromones to absolute perfection. It is our most exclusive piece."
Dixon puffed out his chest, eager to play the omnipotent future Alpha. "Wrap it up. Only the best for my future Luna."
"Right away, sir," the associate purred. "That will be three hundred thousand dollars."
Dixon's arrogant smirk instantly evaporated. His hand, reaching for his wallet, froze mid-air. He stared at the bottle, his jaw tightening as the reality of the price tag hit him. The Black Moon Pack was wealthy, but dropping three hundred grand on a whim for a college girlfriend was clearly beyond his limit.
Sylvia looked up at him, her eyes wide with greedy anticipation.
Dixon cleared his throat, his face flushing slightly. He quickly pulled his hand back. "Actually... no. That scent doesn't suit you, babe. It's too... aggressive. Let's look at the jewelry store next door."
He tugged her arm. Sylvia's face fell, a flash of bitter disappointment cracking her perfect, submissive mask before she quickly hid it.
Dixon was embarrassed. His Alpha pride had just taken a massive hit in front of his new prize and the store staff. He needed to reassert his dominance, to find someone lower on the food chain to crush.
As he turned, his golden eyes locked onto me standing by the pillar.
His posture instantly straightened, the humiliation morphing into a cruel, predatory grin. He let go of Sylvia and took a step toward me.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Dixon sneered, his voice echoing loudly in the quiet, pristine boutique. "A 'wolfless' stray sniffing around places he doesn't belong?"
Sylvia turned, her eyes widening in shock before twisting into a look of absolute disgust, as if she had just stepped in something foul.
I didn't flinch. I didn't cower. I just looked past Dixon's broad shoulders, my eyes locking onto the girl who had sold her soul for a man who couldn't even buy her a bottle of perfume.
*Bitch.*
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7.5
While packing up her cheating ex-boyfriend's belongings, Giselle found an encrypted black smartphone hidden beneath his old textbooks.
Curiosity made her guess the passcode, only to uncover a horrifying secret.
Her ex had been using stolen lingerie photos of her beautiful roommate to catfish a man named "Oero" out of $1.5 million.
And Oero wasn't just a gullible sugar daddy. He was Dereck Campos, a ruthless Wall Street billionaire known for making his enemies permanently disappear.
The phone suddenly buzzed in her hand with a terrifying message.
"Don't be late. You know what happens when I'm kept waiting."
Giselle's blood ran cold. The lethal trap had snapped shut.
If she showed up, Dereck would see she wasn't the blonde in the photos and kill her.
If she ignored him, his private security would hunt her down anyway.
Her ex had drained the offshore accounts and fled, leaving her as the ultimate scapegoat to face a monster's wrath.
She was just a broke engineering student on a full scholarship.
She hadn't taken a single cent of that dirty money. Why should she pay with her life for a deadly scam she knew nothing about?
But Giselle wasn't going to just curl up and wait to die.
Her analytical mind kicked into overdrive. She sent him a voice note faking a severe illness, and deliberately refused his massive cash transfer to play the proud victim.
She was going to outsmart the most dangerous predator in New York, one calculated lie at a time.
8.5
"Oh. God, Eli, please! I'm not on the pills," I gasped, my fingers clawing at his shoulders.
"With a pussy as sweet as that?" he growled against my neck. "Jett was the loser. I'm not. I'm gonna fuck this pussy till the end. Afraid you're gonna have my child?"
My head dropped as a shudder ripped through me. "You're crazy!"
His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're mine now. My woman. And I'm gonna fuck you until this pretty body of yours only knows me."
---
Rowanne Steele thought she had it all. A perfect marriage to Jett Carter, heir to the Carter empire, and a future filled with love. But when Jett dies in a tragic car crash, her world shatters. Her mourning days aren't over, still clinging to his memory, drowning in grief and loyalty to the man she thought she knew.
Until one night, a hidden truth rises from his belongings and everything Rowanne believed about her husband was a lie.
Lost and heartbroken, she runs into the only arms that feel safe, Eli Carter, Jett's younger brother.
What begins as a moment of comfort in the rain turns into a mistake neither of them can forget. A mistake that feels far too much like fate.
Rowanne swears it can't happen again. Eli refuses to let go. Whether forbidden or not, he's determined to claim her. And this time, he won't lose.
9.7
Eighteen months ago, the man I loved shattered my heart, claiming everything between us was a mistake. Now, he's back, a ghost of his former self, a rookie tryout in my pro esports team. And I will make him regret crawling back.
Clifton, captain of a legendary esports team, was secretly battling a severe wrist injury that threatened his career, every match a fight against his own body. He pushed through the pain, ignoring doctors' warnings, desperate to maintain his god-like status.
His world was already on the edge, but nothing prepared him for seeing Justice Terry again in the team basement. Justice, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with naked terror, was now a rookie tryout.
Clifton had spent a year and a half trying to forget that rainy Chicago alley, the raw revulsion in Justice's eyes, the whispered "it wasn't real" that had left him heartbroken. Justice had vanished, and Clifton had erased every trace. Now, the boy who once looked at him like he was the sun was back, flinching at his touch, displaying a deep, primal fear. Amidst sponsor pressure and whispers of being "washed," Clifton saw Justice's return as a chance for vengeance. He publicly humiliated Justice on a live stream, forcing him into a suicide mission, then coldly benched him.
Yet, the satisfaction never came. Instead, a hollow emptiness and a torrent of questions: What had truly happened in the past? Why was Justice here, and what trauma had carved such fear into his bones?
Clifton, unwilling to be fooled again, swore to uncover every secret and every lie. He would force Justice to explain why he had returned, even if it meant tearing down everything they both had left.
9.3
On the first anniversary of our reconciliation, I thought my tech mogul husband and I had finally turned a corner. Then I discovered our entire marriage was a spectator sport. It was a cruel, year-long revenge game orchestrated by him and his lover, and I was the punchline.
For their amusement, I was poisoned with food contaminated with dog feces, publicly humiliated with a twenty-million-dollar auction scam, and beaten until my ribs broke by his family's private security. I endured it all, playing the part of the clueless, loving wife while they laughed about it in a group chat called "The Jillian Andrews Comedy Hour."
But their grand finale was a step too far. I overheard him calmly planning to leave me to die in a remote cabin during a blizzard, a "tragic accident" that would finally set him free to be with his mistress.
He thought he was writing the final chapter of my life.
He didn't know I was about to use his murder plot as my own perfect escape. I faked my death, vanished into thin air, and left him to explain to the world how his beloved wife disappeared off the face of the earth.
7.3
Luna Comeback
7.3
Ana sacrificed everything to marry Alpha Max, believing love would be enough.
For eight years she was the perfect Luna - until the night she planned to reveal her true identity as the hidden heir of the powerful Dark Rose Pack.
That same night, Max staged a deadly "accident" that killed their daughter.
When Ana later discovered Max had been cheating with his "childhood friend" Emily for eight years - and that their "adopted" daughter Mai was actually his secret child - she shattered their mate bond and fled.
Three years later, at the grand crowning of Dark Rose Pack's new Luna, a desperate Max arrives begging for help...
Only to realize the woman on the throne is Ana - now married to the honorable Alpha Desmond.
When Max falls to his knees pleading for forgiveness, Ana delivers the final blow:
"You didn't show my daughter mercy when you killed her. I will never show you mercy, Alpha Max."
7.4
I was Z, the world's most lethal hacker. But after I died, I woke up gasping for air in a massive, freezing bathtub.
Memories that didn't belong to me slammed into my brain. I was trapped in the body of Zero Vance, a notorious "trashy young master" of a wealthy family, who was actually a girl hiding in plain sight.
The original owner of this body was a pathetic, lovesick stalker obsessed with an esports god named Maverick Thorne.
She wore ridiculous rainbow hair and cheap makeup, sending him thousands of desperate, unread texts every single day.
When he completely ignored her, she became the ultimate laughingstock.
Bullies at her elite academy spray-painted "freak" on her locker, shoved her around, and her own family looked at her with exhausted disappointment.
Unable to take the endless humiliation and his cold rejection, she swallowed a bottle of pills and slipped into the icy water.
Looking at the ruined, tear-stained reflection in the mirror, physiological disgust washed over me.
Why would anyone throw their life away for an arrogant, frozen block of ice?
I grabbed the grooming scissors and sheared off the neon hair until only a sharp, silver-blonde crop remained.
I deleted his contact, blocked his number, and put on a perfectly tailored black suit.
When the school's head cheerleader pointed a finger at my nose, warning me to stay away from Maverick, I snapped it backward.
"I have zero interest in Maverick Thorne."
I am alive. And as the new Zero, I am going to take everything back.