The Unwanted Omega's Rise From Ashes
As an Omega, finding out the powerful Alpha Ryker was my fated mate should have been a blessing. But he only loved my stepsister, Nora.
To protect her, he treated me like dirt. Yet, pressured by the pack Elders, he violently claimed me during my first heat, calling Nora's name the entire time.
When he saw the virgin blood on the sheets, he threw cash at my face and accused me of faking it with a cheap trick.
His mother forced me to drink wolfsbane tea and poured the burning poison over my skin just for breathing the same air as her son.
I gave up on the bond and traded my Luna title for a lowly archivist job just to survive. But Nora wouldn't even let me have that.
She cornered me in the basement, slashed her own arm to the bone with a silver blade, and screamed for help.
Ryker burst in, his eyes blazing with murderous rage as he held her bleeding body.
"I will hate you until the day I die."
He swore the Alpha vow, the psychic curse tearing my soul apart. He didn't ask for the truth. He just condemned me.
My heart shattered under the weight of his absolute, venomous disgust, but the tears wouldn't come.
I calmly picked up my employment paper from the blood-stained floor.
I didn't want his love anymore. This time, I was going to live for myself.
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Chapter 6
Elara Vance's POV:
A fragile tendril of hope unfurled in my chest as I made my way toward the archives the next morning. It wasn't happiness, not even close, but it was a sense of purpose. A job. A space of my own. A life, however small, that I could build with my own two hands.
My path took me through the main hall, where a regal, sharp-featured woman stopped me with a single word.
"You."
Her voice was quiet, but it carried the unmistakable weight of command. It was Mira Thorne, Ryker's mother, the pack's former Luna. She sat on a plush velvet sofa, sipping tea, a picture of aristocratic disdain. Beside her stood a terrified-looking Omega servant I recognized as Martha.
I stopped, bowing my head respectfully. "Good morning, Luna Mira."
She set her cup down with a delicate clink, her eyes raking over me, sharp and critical. "Don't call me Luna. I wouldn't want to be associated with an Omega who somehow managed to slither her way into the position."
The insult landed, hot and shameful, but I kept my face a blank mask.
Mira gestured to Martha, who approached me with a trembling hand, holding a tray with a single, steaming cup of tea.
"A special welcome gift," Mira said, a smile playing on her lips that didn't reach her cold eyes. "Drink it."
A strange, acrid scent mingled with the aroma of chamomile. My wolf, ever vigilant, snarled a warning in my mind. Wolfsbane. Not enough to kill, but enough to cause weakness, nausea. A poison meant to punish and humiliate.
My blood ran cold. "Thank you, but I'm not thirsty."
"I wasn't asking." Mira’s voice was steel. To defy her was to defy the Alpha’s family. It was social suicide.
With a shaking hand, I took the cup. I could feel Martha's pity, a silent, helpless wave. Mira watched me, leaning back into the cushions, her expression one of pleasant anticipation, as if I were a bug under her magnifying glass.
"Must I have it poured down your throat?" she asked sweetly.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and drained the cup. The liquid was bitter, and a burning trail seared its way down my throat and into my stomach. A wave of dizziness and weakness washed over me almost instantly. I fought back the urge to gag, placing the empty cup back on the tray with a steady hand. I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing my pain. This was a lesson I had learned a thousand times in the Omega dens: the more it hurts, the less you show.
Mira looked momentarily surprised by my stoicism, but it quickly melted back into contempt. "You have the constitution of a sewer rat, I'll give you that," she said dismissively. "Remember your place, Elara. You may have fooled the Elders, but to me, you will always be dirt beneath my heel."
My body trembled with the effort of standing upright.
"Now, get out of my sight."
I turned and walked away, each step an exercise in pure willpower. The weakness was a creeping vine, wrapping around my limbs, but I would not falter. Not here. I could feel her malevolent gaze on my back, a physical weight, all the way down the hall.
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8.2
They say Alpha Kael Vorthrane is not a man.
He is a curse.
A beast born from betrayal.
A ruler who destroyed entire packs to build his throne.
And now... he owns mine.
I am Liora Ashwyn.
Daughter of the Dark Moon Alpha.
The girl my own parents handed over like a peace offering when Alpha Kael came for revenge.
I watched him slaughter my pack.
I watched my parents choose me to save themselves.
And I watched his soldiers drag me away to be his "gift."
But when Alpha Kael finally looked at me...
He didn't see a slave.
He saw the daughter of the people who ruined his life.
And he decided I would pay for their sins.
Kael doesn't just want my body.
He wants my fear.
My pride.
My spirit.
He wants to break me slowly.
Because his wolf is insatiable.
Cruel.
Hungry for revenge.
And I am the perfect victim.
But Alpha Kael doesn't know one thing...
I am not as weak as I look.
And the girl he plans to destroy might be the only one capable of destroying him.
Or worse...
Becoming the one thing his wolf never expected.
His perfect mate.
7.2
Aria was born with a fire in her soul a mysterious ember that hums with a power even she cannot control. Ordinary life was never meant for her, but when shadowed creatures rise from the Veiled Realm, kingdoms teeter on the edge of war, and an ancient prophecy stirs from the depths of forgotten magic, Aria discovers that her gift may be the only thing standing between life and annihilation.
As she struggles to master her abilities, Aria is thrust into a world of ruthless warlords, cunning sorcerers, and dark beasts that hunt from the shadows. Every ally she meets could be a traitor, every enemy may hold a secret, and every choice she makes carries the weight of a realm cloaked in mystery and danger.
Amid the chaos, a forbidden bond ignites with a warrior whose strength matches her own, a connection that could either become her greatest strength or her deadliest weakness. As love, betrayal, and destiny collide, Aria must confront the shadows of her past, embrace the power within her, and decide whether she will rise as the savior of the Veiled Realm or fall and let it burn.
Embers will flare. Secrets will awaken. And one girl's courage will shape the fate of a hidden world forever.
7.9
On Christmas Eve, the snow fell in relentless sheets.
My grandmother and I were cast out into the snow as if we were nothing by my uncle.
My aunt cursed me as a bad luck charm, while my uncle's boot landed fiercely in my chest.
I knelt in the freezing snow, clutching my grandmother's body as it grew cold, my nails digging into my flesh, convinced that death awaited us tonight.
Suddenly, the blinding headlights cut through the night.
A convoy of Rolls-Royce cars, bearing diplomatic plates, silently blocked the entrance to the rundown neighborhood.
The elderly butler strode directly to my grandmother, who had been "blind" for forty years, and knelt on one knee, "Your Highness, forgive us for arriving so late."
8.8
My fated mate, Alpha Kaden, watched me die slowly for three years while he groomed his mistress. When our pup withered and died inside me due to his neglect, he publicly accused me of murder. That was the day I stopped dying for him and started living to defy him.
The Pack Healer confirmed our pup's soul returned to the Goddess; Kaden's weakened bond was literally killing me, forcing a procedure to remove the last physical tether. Immediately after, Kaden returned with Cori Mullins, his 'true love', and found me. He snarled accusations I'd destroyed his heir-a lie Cori eagerly reinforced.
He dismissed my cries that he killed our baby, believing their narrative. My inner wolf gave a final gurgling howl as necrosis spread, and he swallowed Cori's lie that she, not me, saved him from rogues. I looked into his eyes and saw only disgust; he deemed my pain a performance, blind to the bond rotting me.
Realizing he would never believe me, I formally rejected him as my Mate. He laughed, dismissed it as a tantrum, and refused to accept. But as he walked away, leaving me to die, I vowed to reclaim my life. I vanished into the night, determined to live for myself, whatever the deadly cost.
8.4
My hands trembled as I smoothed my dress, waiting for Alpha Arthur to return. He had survived the transplant. I thought our Fated bond would finally be sealed.
But when the heavy doors swung open, the warmth I expected was gone.
Arthur walked in clutching another woman, Diana. He looked at me like I was a stain on the rug.
"The Moon Goddess played a trick," he sneered, his eyes glazed with a chemical devotion. "My donor's blood chooses her. The blood bond overrides some archaic fate."
He didn't just reject me; he made me a servant in my own home. When Diana framed me for breaking a ring, Arthur didn't hesitate. He ordered the Silver Whip.
"Arthur, please! I'm pregnant!" I screamed, shielding my stomach.
"Stop lying to save your skin," he spat.
He lashed me ten times with wolfsbane-dipped leather. I lay in the snow, feeling the warm blood of my miscarriage soak the ground, while he walked away to comfort his mistress.
He killed his own son for a lie.
That night, I signed my rejection in blood and vanished into the darkness.
Five months later, I returned. Not as a weak Omega, but as the legendary White Wolf, holding the hand of the most powerful Alpha in the region.
Arthur fell to his knees in the mud when he saw me, weeping. "I'll do anything. I'll give up the title."
I looked down at him coldly and handed him the whip.
"Ten lashes," I whispered. "For the baby you killed."
7.7
I gripped the wheel of my Porsche through a Manhattan downpour, staring at the positive pregnancy test on the passenger seat. Haden's voicemail was my only answer.
A semi swerved into my lane. Brakes failed. I slammed into the guardrail, airbags exploding, pain ripping through my gut.
Headlights pierced the rain. My sister Corrie stepped out under an umbrella, smiling coldly. "Beauvais Fashion is liquidated. Dad's dying." Haden stood beside her, eyes dead, shoving equity papers through the window. "Sign, or no ambulance."
I tore them up. Corrie lit a flare, tossed it onto the gas-soaked seats. Flames whooshed as they walked away.
I woke strapped to an operating table, agony tearing me apart. "No heartbeat," the doctor said. Nurses pinned me down. Instruments invaded. Corrie dropped a death certificate on my chest, then set the room ablaze with alcohol and a cigarette flick.
Smoke choked me. A cabinet blocked the door. I collapsed, burning. Then a man in black burst in, scent of cedar and tobacco, scooping me from the fire.
Five years later, I'd rebuilt myself as Sloane, flawless and cold. I signed a sham marriage to Donavan Mason, nursing his dying grandfather in their estate—the house that swallowed my father's legacy.
Betrayed by my lover and sister, child ripped away, identity erased—how could they do this? Who was the man who saved me?
Now, I infiltrate their world, armed with secrets and scars, ready to burn them all down.