The Unwanted Omega: The Alpha's Late Regret

For five years, I was a ghost in the Spencer Pack, a placeholder wife for an Alpha who couldn't stand the sight of me. I endured the neglect, believing my loyalty would eventually win him over.

But at the Moon Ball, when his mistress mocked my disabled mother and I finally stood up for myself, Easton didn't defend me. Instead, he used his Alpha Command to force me to my knees in front of the entire pack.

"Submit," he growled, stripping away my dignity.

The humiliation didn't end there. He forced me to chauffeur him and his mistress to their romantic getaway. He watched silently as they fed me raw meat like a feral dog. And when his mistress framed me for stealing the Luna necklace, he didn't check the cameras. He looked at me with pure disgust and threw me into the silver cells.

He didn't know I was the "Ghost Designer" behind his company's massive success. He didn't know I had lost our child alone on the bathroom floor three years ago while he was on vacation with her. He only saw a wolfless Omega he could use and discard.

Standing in that cold cell, the love I held for him finally turned to ash. I realized I wasn't waiting for him to love me; I was waiting for permission to leave.

I looked at the man who promised to protect me and spoke the words that would destroy him.

"I, Brooke Rollins, reject you, Easton Spencer."

As he clutched his chest in agony, the bond snapping like a whip, I walked out of the cell and into the arms of the rival Alpha who saw my true worth.

Chapter 1

Brooke POV:

I stared at the document on the mahogany desk. "Dissolution of Marriage Contract." The bold, serif font seemed to mock me. For five years, I had been a ghost in the Spencer Pack, a placeholder wife for an Alpha who couldn't stand the sight of me.

I wasn't a Luna. I was a line item in a ledger.

I smoothed the fabric of my dress- a thrift store find that I'd prayed would pass for vintage -trying to blend into the shadows of the ballroom. Tonight was the Moon Ball. The air was thick with old money, roasted venison, and the heavy, musk-like pheromones of wolves posturing for rank.

"Look who crawled out of the kitchen," a voice sneered behind me.

I didn't need to turn around. Kelly Holland. She smelled like crushed roses and chemical warfare. Kelly was a Beta, but she walked around with the entitlement of a Queen.

"Leave me alone, Kelly," I said, keeping my voice low. As an Omega, my biology screamed at me to bare my neck, but my human pride held my chin up.

Kelly stepped closer, swirling a glass of red wine. "You look like the help, Brooke. But then again, that's all you are. Wolfless trash keeping the bed warm until Easton comes to his senses."

"I am his wife," I said. The words tasted like ash.

"For now," Kelly laughed. "How is your mother? Still rotting away in that wheelchair? I heard the silver poison finally reached her hips. Must smell lovely in that trailer. Like roadkill left out in the sun. "

The world went red. My mother was a victim of the Spencer silver mines, her body destroyed by the very metal that funded this champagne. And there was something else-a suspicion I'd buried deep about the 'accident' that put her there, a nagging voice I usually silenced.

My hand flew out.

Smack!

The sound cracked through the ballroom like a pistol shot, silencing the string quartet. Kelly stumbled back, clutching her cheek. Her eyes went wide, not with pain, but with malicious glee. She deliberately tipped her glass, drenching her white silk gown in burgundy.

"Brooke! How could you?" she shrieked, hitting the floor in a performance worthy of an Oscar.

The temperature in the room plummeted. Gravity seemed to double. Alpha Aura .

"What is the meaning of this?"

Easton Spencer parted the crowd like the Red Sea. Broad shoulders, eyes like stormy seas currently flashing amber.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Even after five years, the biological pull was a riptide. Pine needles and rain. A scent that should have meant home .

"Easton!" Kelly sobbed. "She... she attacked me! I only asked if she needed a drink!"

Easton didn't look at the wine stain. He locked onto me.

"Explain," he growled. The vibration rattled my teeth.

"She insulted my mother," I said, voice trembling. "She mocked her disability."

"Liar!" Kelly cried into her hands.

Easton didn't ask for witnesses. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over Kelly. The tenderness of the action was a physical blow.

He turned back to me, face like granite.

"Submit."

It wasn't a request. It was an Alpha Command . It bypassed my ears and slammed directly into my brain stem.

My knees hit the marble. Hard. My head was forced down, chin to chest. I was a prisoner in my own body.

"You are a disgrace, Brooke," Easton said, voice void of emotion. "Get to the car."

The pressure lifted just enough for me to scramble up. Shame burned hotter than the slap. I ran, Kelly's triumphant sniffling chasing me out into the night.

I sat in the back of the limousine, shivering. Ten minutes later, Easton slid in.

"Drive," he told the driver.

The car glided forward.

"Yesterday was our fifth anniversary," I whispered.

Easton didn't turn. He tossed a black credit card onto my lap.

"Buy yourself something nice," he said, sounding bored. "And learn to control your temper. Kelly is a guest of honor."

"She's a Beta who disrespected your Luna," I argued.

"You are a Luna in name only, Brooke. Do not forget that."

Suddenly, Easton stiffened. Mind-Link .

His expression softened. A look I had starved for.

Easton... it hurts... my face burns... I'm scared...

Easton tapped the partition. "Stop the car."

The driver pulled over on the highway shoulder.

"Get out," Easton said.

"What?"

"Kelly is distressed. She needs the hospital. I'm going back."

"You're leaving me? On the highway?" I asked, incredulous.

"Call a cab. Walk. Maybe the cold will cool off that Omega temper. "

He stepped out into the night. He didn't look back.

As his taillights faded, I felt a strange sensation. Not heartbreak. Something deeper.

Deep inside, a wolf I thought had died years ago let out a low, mournful whimper.