Rejected By My Fated Alpha

In the eyes of the world, Carmelo Tran was the cold and aloof Alpha of the Tran Pack.

But in the bedroom, he was insatiable.

Werewolves were known for their primal instincts, and I had always assumed his boundless appetite was simply a reflection of his nature.

Until one evening, after a particularly intense session, he pulled away and said, "I’m taking a mate."

My chest still heaved as I processed his words, a flicker of hope igniting in my heart. But the next moment, the man who had just been wrapped around me turned distant and cold.

"I’ve decided to mark Billie," he said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "She’s a healer, and her constitution is delicate. I didn’t want to overwhelm her with my needs, so I used you to release my urges."

He paused, his eyes scanning me with indifference. "But you won’t be needed anymore. Your scent is too strong, and I don’t want Billie to be uncomfortable."

---

I lay on the bed, struggling to catch my breath.

Carmelo was an Alpha, and his dominance was as relentless as it was overwhelming. Even after ten years of serving him, every encounter left me aching and raw.

His words hit me like a physical blow, and I trembled uncontrollably.

Carmelo mistook my reaction for pain and tossed me a small vial filled with a faintly glowing liquid. "This contains my blood. It’ll ease the discomfort for about a week."

I didn’t reach for it, just stared at him, my heart shattering into pieces.

Ten years. Ten years of devotion, of surrendering myself to him, body and soul. I had given him everything, believing that somewhere, somehow, he might care for me.

But his words dragged me back to reality, cruel and unyielding.

All this time, I had been nothing more than a convenience.

"If that’s the case," I whispered, my voice trembling, "why not just remove the bond entirely? If you don’t want me anymore, why keep me tied to you?"

Carmelo’s lips curved into a faint smile, but it quickly twisted into something cold and dangerous. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually sharp and commanding, now held a warning that sent a chill down my spine.

"Norah," he said, his voice low and threatening, "don’t forget your place. You don’t have the right to question me."

I swallowed hard, lowering my eyes. "Forgive me, Alpha. I overstepped."

He released me with a satisfied nod and gestured toward the door. "Be smart about this."

I rose from the bed, my body still sore, and pulled on a thin robe. I stepped out of the room and knelt on the cold floor, my head bowed.

I was Norah Gardner, the rare purple-furred werewolf of the Gardner Pack.

My mother had died giving birth to me, but she had passed on her powerful wolf, awakening my inner wolf at just twelve years old. My father, the Alpha of the Gardner Pack, had always been protective of me, but I had been naive.

When I found an injured Omega from a neighboring pack, I had tried to save him. But it was a trap, and I was poisoned.

Carmelo had found me, half-dead and desperate. He used his blood to suppress the pain, but in exchange, he claimed me as his own. For ten years, I served as an Omega in his pack, enduring his abuse and manipulation. I had clung to the hope that one day, he might see me as more than just a tool.

But now, I knew the truth.

He had never cared for me. I had been a fool to believe otherwise.

---

The memories of how I ended up here flooded my mind.

When I was younger, I had been too trusting. I had tried to save a wounded Omega, not realizing it was a ploy to ambush me. The poison was potent, and my wolf, though powerful, couldn’t fight it off. I had stumbled through the woods, desperate to return to my pack, but I collapsed before I could make it.

That was when Carmelo found me.

He had used his blood to suppress the poison, but it came at a cost. He demanded my submission, and I gave it to him, believing he had saved my life out of kindness.

But that first night, as he claimed me, I had seen something in his eyes—something dark and hateful. I had dismissed it, too overwhelmed by the pain and the bond forming between us.

I stayed with him, thinking it was love. But now I knew better.

Every time he used me, he would send me to wait outside his room, ready to serve him whenever he desired. I had mistaken his possessiveness for affection, his control for care.

But it was all a lie.

I was nothing more than a convenience, a means to an end.

And now, he had found someone else. Someone he deemed worthy of being his Luna.

I knelt there, the cold floor biting into my knees, and let the tears fall silently.

Ten years of devotion, and all I had to show for it was this—a vial of his blood and the bitter taste of rejection.