Rejected Omega, Secret Bride of the Billionaire Lycan
I was the Thornton Pack's brilliant but "wolfless" assistant, a defect they treated like a charity case.
After years of letting the Alpha, Caleb, control me to prove my worth, he publicly humiliated and discarded me for a pure-blooded pack princess.
Heartbroken and drunk at a bar, I accidentally bit and marked a terrifying stranger who saved me from two creeps.
I woke up to find out I had drunkenly claimed Damien Blackwood—a ruthless billionaire and the apex Lycan King of the werewolf world.
To prevent a pack war over the claiming mark, Damien trapped me in a two-year contract marriage, treating me like a convenient political tool.
Right after we signed the papers, I got a call from the police.
My little brother, Jamison, had been arrested for punching Caleb, who was bragging about ruining my dignity.
At the precinct, Caleb sneered at my misery, threatening to destroy my brother's future.
Seeing the fresh bite mark on my neck, Jamison exploded in handcuffs, screaming that Damien had blackmailed me into his bed to get him out of jail.
I begged Damien to step outside so I could explain this horrific misunderstanding, feeling like I had sold my soul to a cold-blooded predator.
But Damien ignored my pleas. He pulled me behind him, his suffocating Lycan aura crushing everyone in the room.
"Yes, she was with me last night, because she is my wife."
Before anyone could process the shock, his eyes darkened with a terrifying, unhinged possessiveness.
"And I didn't marry her to solve a problem. I married her because I've been in love with her for ten years."
I stared at his broad back, my blood running cold as I realized I had no idea what kind of monster I had just bound my life to.
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Chapter 8
Elenor POV
The heavy door of the Maybach opened, and the biting chill of the New York night hit my face. The imposing concrete steps of the NYPD 19th Precinct loomed ahead, bathed in the sickly, jaundiced glow of the streetlights. The air tasted of exhaust fumes and human desperation, but all I could focus on was the frantic beating of my own heart. Jamison was in there.
I took a trembling step toward the building, but before my foot could even touch the first stair, the heavy glass doors of the precinct pushed open.
My breath caught in my throat.
Caleb Thornton walked out. He looked disheveled, a stark contrast to his usual polished arrogance. A thick white bandage was taped across his broken nose, and his expensive designer shirt was ruined by streaks of dried, dark blood.
He stopped at the top of the stairs. The moment his eyes locked onto mine, the familiar, sickening smirk twisted his lips. He used the height of the steps to his advantage, looking down at me like I was nothing more than dirt beneath his expensive shoes.
"Look what we have here," Caleb sneered, his voice dripping with the same contempt that had haunted my nightmares for years. "The wolfless charity case, crawling to the police for her feral human brother."
The words hit me like a silver-laced blade. *Wolfless charity case.* My body froze, paralyzed by the sheer weight of my past trauma. I wanted to scream, to defend Jamison, but the humiliation choked me. I began to shake, my hands curling into useless fists at my sides.
Then, Caleb’s gaze shifted. He noticed the massive, silent shadow standing right beside me.
Because of the dim lighting, and because Caleb had never truly run in the elite circles of apex predators, his arrogance blinded him to the lethal danger radiating from the man at my side. Caleb sensed an Alpha, but his twisted ego immediately categorized Damien as some nameless, insignificant Pack leader.
Caleb looked Damien up and down with an insulting, appraising glare. "Found yourself a new Alpha to leech off of, Elenor?" he mocked, his voice echoing off the concrete. "Does he know he's picking up the Thornton Pack's leftovers?"
The air around us didn't just drop in temperature; it completely solidified.
Damien stepped forward. His massive frame moved with the terrifying grace of a mountain lion, instantly eclipsing Caleb from my view and shielding me entirely behind his broad back. The scent of cedar, torrential rain, and dark Cuban tobacco exploded into the night—a suffocating, physical weight that slammed into Caleb.
"Thornton," Damien said.
It wasn't a shout. It was a low, emotionless whisper that carried the finality of an executioner's axe.
Damien tilted his head slightly. In the dim light, his charcoal eyes ignited, glowing with a blinding, lethal silver fire. His inner beast, the Lycan, was at the surface.
"Does your father, the Alpha of your pathetic little Pack, know you're out here barking at my Mate?" Damien's voice was a dark, rumbling vibration that shook the very pavement beneath our feet. "Does he know you're about to start a war you can't possibly survive?"
Mate.
The word struck Caleb like a physical blow. The arrogant smirk vanished, replaced by a mask of absolute, unadulterated terror. He finally realized exactly who was standing in front of him. The legendary Lycan Alpha. Damien Blackwood.
All the color drained from Caleb's face, leaving him ashen. His knees buckled slightly, his body trembling so violently that I could hear his teeth chattering. Even from behind Damien, I could feel the pathetic, whining submission of Caleb's inner wolf, completely crushed by the Lycan's oppressive aura.
Damien didn't spare him another second of his time. To the Alpha King, Caleb was already a ghost.
A large, warm hand settled firmly against the small of my back. The touch was fiercely protective, grounding me instantly. Without another word, Damien guided me up the concrete steps. We walked right past the shattered, trembling heir of the Thornton Pack, pushing through the heavy doors and stepping into the harsh fluorescent lights of the precinct.
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9.5
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love.
Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell.
He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel.
When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see.
The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me.
But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather.
He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear.
9.0
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty.
But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire.
Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner.
But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away.
Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker.
"Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms.
She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.
8.9
I returned to New York for my welcome-home party, expecting a warm embrace from Edwin, my devoted fiancé of twenty years.
Instead, his first words to me were a cold, public warning to stay away from his new girlfriend, Kacy.
He stood in my family's hotel, shielding a girl I had never even met, and painted me as a vicious, jealous bully.
"She is very sensitive, Kaitlyn. Her background is tough. Please, be gentle with her. Don't upset her."
He humiliated me in front of our entire elite circle, allowing them to mock me as the aggressive, discarded ex while he carried her away like a fragile princess.
For twenty years, I had been his loyal shadow, fixing his mistakes and loving him unconditionally.
I couldn't understand how decades of deep devotion could be instantly erased by a few crocodile tears and a manipulative damsel act.
He was absolutely certain I would throw a tantrum, cry, and eventually crawl back to beg for his attention.
But he was wrong.
He didn't know that Everett Rowe, a billionaire tech mogul, had been patiently waiting five years to marry me.
He also didn't know that during my three years abroad, I wasn't just studying art—I became "K.B.", the ruthless Wall Street predator who could swallow his family's empire whole.
I calmly pulled out my phone, ignored the mocking whispers around me, and typed a single message to Everett.
"Yes. I'll marry you."
8.8
My fiancé, Knox, was the man I’d spent ten years building a life with, the one I’d poured my family’s fortune into. But then I found the lockbox. Inside, a photo of him smiling, his arm around a heavily pregnant woman, marked: *To my only wife Deana.*
I’d been looking for a charger in our Boston penthouse closet when I stumbled upon it. The faded Polaroid showed Knox, younger, beaming, with a heavily pregnant stranger. Its timestamp: "Ten years ago"—the exact year I funded his Ivy League PhD.
Flipping the photo, I saw Knox’s familiar handwriting: *To my only wife Deana and our upcoming miracle.* My world crumbled. The man I’d loved had a wife, making me the unwitting mistress. My opulent life was built on his lies.
His text, "Baby, I'm coming home to *our house*," twisted into a cruel joke. My tears froze. A decade of sacrifices, of family alienation—all for a man who used my money and trust—shredded in my mind. The fragile woman in me vanished; my eyes turned cold and clear. I relocked the box, smoothed the rug, and applied crimson lipstick. Practicing a flawless smile, I whispered, "Welcome home, my sweet liar."
7.5
Five years ago, Alisson Ford's adoptive family drugged her and offered her to a repulsive old investor to save their failing company.
She escaped the trap, only to accidentally stumble into the bed of Jake Yates, the most terrifying and powerful billionaire in the city.
Months later, while she was painfully giving birth to triplets in a freezing basement, her adoptive sister Bella tracked her down. Bella violently snatched Alisson's firstborn son to pass off as her own ticket into the Yates family. Then, Bella smiled as her men poured gasoline over the mattress and set the room on fire, leaving Alisson and her two remaining newborns to burn alive.
Shielding her fragile babies with her own blistering skin in the roaring inferno, Alisson's despair turned into absolute, blood-soaked hatred. She couldn't fathom how the family she had trusted for years could steal her flesh and blood and condemn her to such a horrific death.
Five years later, Alisson returns to the city as a powerful trauma specialist. She steps right into Jake and Bella's grand engagement banquet, watching coldly as her five-year-old daughter runs straight up to the untouchable billionaire and hugs his leg.
"You are a bad daddy! You abandoned Mommy and us, and now you are going to marry an ugly old witch!"
9.6
I was the dedicated, "wolfless" Luna of the Blackwood Pack, bound to Alpha Damien for seven years.
Just three days before our marriage contract expired, Damien burst into my clinic carrying his mistress, Allena.
He used his Alpha Command to clear the room, humiliating me in front of my own medical staff.
The ultrasound revealed Allena was suffering from internal bleeding due to their uncontrolled mating frenzy.
Instead of feeling shame for his weakness, Damien shoved me brutally against a metal counter to protect her.
He threw a $100,000 check at me to buy my silence, treating my broken soul like a cheap transaction.
Later, when I refused to kneel and apologize to his mistress, he pushed me again, shattering my arm against a glass table.
As my blood soaked the pristine white rug, he stood over me, demanding my absolute submission.
He thought I was just a pathetic, weak Omega who would endure his cruelty forever because I had nothing else.
He didn't know that five years ago, after he threatened to kill any pup I bore him, I secretly built a massive offshore empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet over my bleeding arm and wiped my blood right over his heart.
"I am done with you."
Then I liquidated his thirty-five-million-dollar penthouse assets and walked out into the night, ready to show him who the real monster was.