Unwanted by Him, Chosen by the Stronger Alpha

I was the Pack’s shame, a twenty-year-old "Runt" who had never shifted. Yet, I clung to the desperate hope that Alpha Marcus, the man I had loved my entire life, would finally claim me at the Full Moon Gala.

Instead, he stood before the entire Pack with Izzy, a woman who looked at him with hunger rather than love. With eyes as cold as stone, he didn't just ignore me; he destroyed me.

"I, Marcus Thorne, reject you, Olivia Hayes."

The rejection snapped our bond, but the nightmare was just beginning. When Izzy framed me for poisoning her, Marcus didn't hesitate. He chained me in the dungeon and wielded the silver whip himself. Each lash burned like liquid fire, tearing through my skin as he demanded a confession I couldn't give.

I woke up in a pool of my own blood, only to hear the nurse whisper the truth I was never meant to know.

The silver toxicity hadn't just broken my body; it had killed the unborn pup I didn't even know I was carrying.

Marcus had whipped the mother of his own child to protect a liar. He had killed his heir for a woman who was faking her own pregnancy.

That night, as I crawled through the mud to escape, the weak Runt died. In the freezing waters of the river, my bones snapped and reshaped. I didn't just shift; I became the legendary White Wolf.

And when Marcus finally realized the truth and came begging on his knees, I looked at him with my new, violet eyes and prepared to give him the rejection he deserved.

Chapter 1

Olivia POV

I was twenty years old, and in the eyes of the Moonstone Pack, I was a mistake.

That was what the whispers said, anyway. In our world, if you haven’t shifted by eighteen, you are looked at with pity. If you haven’t shifted by twenty, you are a "Runt." A burden. A genetic dead end.

I sat at my vanity, staring at my reflection. Pale skin, eyes that held a desperate, foolish hope, and a body that felt too fragile to ever house a predator. My father, Elder David, told me the Moon Goddess had a plan for everyone. But it was hard to believe in a divine plan when you were the only one left walking on two legs while everyone else ran on four.

I opened the bottom drawer of my desk. It was my secret shame. Inside lay a collection of mundane objects that meant the world to me. A discarded training jersey. A pen he had chewed on during a meeting.

And my sketches.

I pulled out the charcoal drawing. It was him. Alpha Marcus Thorne. I had drawn him not as a man, but as the beast I knew lived inside him. A massive, midnight-black Dire Wolf with eyes like molten gold. I had never seen his wolf—Runts weren't permitted near the training grounds—but I felt it.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Even here, in the safety of my room, I could imagine his scent. It wasn't just a smell; it was a physical force. It hit me like a storm front—sharp, cold cedar wood mixed with the heavy, electric scent of rain striking dry earth.

It was the scent of my Fated Mate. I knew it in my bones. But because I was a Runt, I had never dared to speak it aloud. How could an Alpha be mated to a defect?

"Tonight," I whispered to the empty room. "Maybe tonight, he will finally see me."

It was the Full Moon Gala. The entire Pack would be there.

I dressed in a simple silver gown that my father had bought for me. It was beautiful, but draped over my un-shifted frame, I felt like a child playing dress-up.

When I arrived at the Pack House, the air was thick, heavy with the musk of shifting wolves and expensive champagne. The music was loud, but the beating of my heart was louder. I stayed in the shadows, clutching a glass of water like a lifeline, my eyes scanning the crowd.

Then, the atmosphere shifted.

Marcus stood near the center of the room. He was tall, his shoulders broad, radiating that terrifying, intoxicating Alpha energy that commanded attention without a word. He laughed at something someone said, throwing his head back, exposing the strong column of his throat. My wolf—or the dormant spirit of her—whimpered inside me.

But he wasn’t alone.

Izzy Vance was clinging to his arm. She was a Beta female from a fallen family, but you wouldn’t know it by the way she carried herself. She wore a dress cut so low it was scandalous, red like fresh blood. She looked at Marcus not with love, but with a hunger that made my stomach turn.

I remembered hearing her voice in the ladies' room just days ago. *"He’s the Alpha. I don’t care who his mate is. Unwanted Omegas have a way of disappearing in this Pack."*

I shivered, a cold dread settling in my gut.

Marcus turned. His golden eyes swept over the crowd, dismissing faces one by one. For a second—just a split second—his gaze landed on me.

My breath hitched. I waited for the spark, the recognition, the pull of the bond.

But his lip curled slightly. A look of impatience. Disdain. He looked away as if I were a piece of furniture.

The rejection stung, sharp and familiar, but I was used to it. I turned to leave, feeling the familiar burn of tears, when a shift in the air stopped me dead.

The scent of the room changed. Beneath the perfume and sweat, there was something acrid. Metallic. Bitter.

Wolfsbane.

It was faint, masked by the heavy scent of wine, but my nose, perhaps compensating for my lack of shifting, was sharp.

I saw Izzy handing Marcus a goblet. Her smile was sweet—too sweet, like rotting fruit.

"No," I breathed.

Wolfsbane didn't just kill. In small doses, it acted as a violent stimulant, driving a wolf into a paranoid rage before shutting down their heart.

Marcus took a long drink.

Almost immediately, his posture went rigid. A low growl vibrated in his chest, loud enough to cut through the music. The crowd went silent.

His eyes glazed over. His inner wolf was surfacing, fighting the poison, confused and angry. The Alpha pheromones rolled off him in suffocating waves. Nearby Omegas grabbed their heads, dizzy from the sudden pressure.

He was losing control.

Without thinking, I pushed through the crowd. I had to help him. I reached out with my mind, trying to find the thread that connected us.

*Marcus,* I projected, pouring every ounce of calm I possessed into the link. *It’s okay. Breathe. Focus on the rain. Focus on the cedar.*

It was the first time I had ever Mind-Linked him. The connection was weak, fragile, but I felt him pause. The storm inside him settled for a heartbeat. He looked at me, confusion warring with the chemical rage in his eyes.

*Who...?* his voice echoed in my head, deep and distorted.

Suddenly, a body slammed into me.

"What are you doing!" Izzy shrieked.

I stumbled back, falling hard onto the polished floor. Before I could recover, a mist sprayed over my face. It smelled synthetic, cloying. Artificial Alpha pheromones.

Izzy stood over me, gasping, pointing a shaking finger. "She’s trying to seduce him! She’s trying to force a bond! Look at her, throwing herself at him while he's vulnerable!"

The crowd gasped.

Marcus shook his head, the Wolfsbane making him paranoid, aggressive. He smelled the artificial pheromones on me—a cheap trick used by desperate she-wolves. To his drug-addled mind, it looked like a trap. A weak, desperate Runt trying to trick her way into his bed.

His confusion turned to disgust.

"You," Marcus growled. His voice wasn't human. It was the voice of the Alpha, demanding submission.

Izzy clung to his bicep, whispering urgently into his ear. "She wants your title, Marcus. She’s defiling the bond. She’s mocking you."

Marcus looked at me. I was on my knees, looking up at the man I had loved my entire life.

"Marcus, no," I whispered. "It’s the drink. She drugged—"

"Silence!"

The word hit me like a physical blow. The Alpha’s Command.

My vocal cords paralyzed instantly. My body froze, locking my muscles as if turned to stone. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I could only stare as he stepped closer, his shadow swallowing me whole.

"A Runt," he spat, the word dripping with venom. "You dare touch my mind? You dare try to manipulate me?"

He didn't wait for an answer he knew I couldn't give. He looked at the crowd, then back at me. He wanted to make an example. He wanted to show his strength.

"I, Marcus Thorne, Alpha of the Moonstone Pack," he thundered, his voice echoing off the walls.

My heart stopped. *No. Please, Moon Goddess, no.*

"Reject you, Olivia Hayes, as my Mate."

The pain was immediate. It wasn't a sharp stab. It was as if someone had reached into my chest, grabbed my very soul, and ripped it in half.

A scream built in my throat, but the Command held it back, trapping the agony inside. I convulsed, blood spraying from my lips onto the white marble floor.

The bond snapped. The scent of cedar and rain turned to ash and rot.

I looked up at him through a haze of agony. I tried to push one last thought to him. *I didn't... I love you...*

But the door was shut. His eyes were cold, dead stone.

"Take her out of my sight," Marcus said, turning his back on me. He pulled Izzy against his side. "And let it be known. Izzy Vance is my Chosen Mate. She is your future Luna."

Guards grabbed my arms, dragging me across the floor. I couldn't walk. I couldn't feel my legs.

As they threw me out into the cold night air, the last thing I heard was the applause of my Pack, celebrating my destruction.