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img img Werewolf img From Bait to Queen: The Rejected Mate's Destiny
From Bait to Queen: The Rejected Mate's Destiny

From Bait to Queen: The Rejected Mate's Destiny

img Werewolf
img 12 Chapters
img Moria Anninger
5.0
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About

To the Dark Moon Pack, I wasn't just invisible; I was a stain. Dean Lee, the Alpha designed for my soul, treated me like a shameful secret while he paraded his mistress, Karina, in red silk. The night of the Charity Auction, Dean bought my late mother's moonstone pendant-the only thing I had left of her-for a hundred thousand dollars. I begged him for it. Instead, he clasped it around Karina's ankle. With a cruel laugh, Karina stomped her stiletto heel, crushing the moonstone into dust. Dean just watched, his eyes cold and unfeeling. "It was just a cheap rock," he said. "I'll buy you diamonds." But the cruelty didn't stop at emotional torture. When rogues attacked, Dean used me as live bait to distract them from Karina. He threw me into the Blood Pit, a gladiator arena, to fight a massive Feral wolf while he sat in the VIP box with Karina on his lap. "She won't last three minutes," I heard him say through our dying bond. He watched with bored detachment as I was ripped apart, refusing to save me even as I screamed his name. He saved the mistress and drowned the mate. I died on that arena floor. Or so he thought. Years later, the mysterious and world-renowned artist "H.Y." returned to New York for a gallery opening. When Dean saw me on stage, he rushed forward, tears streaming down his face, trying to claim the wife he had mourned. "Hayley," he choked out, reaching for me. "You're alive. You're mine." I didn't cry. I didn't run. I unleashed a shockwave of ancient White Wolf energy that blasted him across the room, shattering the glass displays. "I don't take orders from dogs anymore," I said, looking down at him. "I, Hayley York, hereby reject you."

Chapter 1

To the Dark Moon Pack, I wasn't just invisible; I was a stain. Dean Lee, the Alpha designed for my soul, treated me like a shameful secret while he paraded his mistress, Karina, in red silk.

The night of the Charity Auction, Dean bought my late mother's moonstone pendant-the only thing I had left of her-for a hundred thousand dollars.

I begged him for it. Instead, he clasped it around Karina's ankle.

With a cruel laugh, Karina stomped her stiletto heel, crushing the moonstone into dust. Dean just watched, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

"It was just a cheap rock," he said. "I'll buy you diamonds."

But the cruelty didn't stop at emotional torture. When rogues attacked, Dean used me as live bait to distract them from Karina.

He threw me into the Blood Pit, a gladiator arena, to fight a massive Feral wolf while he sat in the VIP box with Karina on his lap.

"She won't last three minutes," I heard him say through our dying bond.

He watched with bored detachment as I was ripped apart, refusing to save me even as I screamed his name. He saved the mistress and drowned the mate.

I died on that arena floor. Or so he thought.

Years later, the mysterious and world-renowned artist "H.Y." returned to New York for a gallery opening.

When Dean saw me on stage, he rushed forward, tears streaming down his face, trying to claim the wife he had mourned.

"Hayley," he choked out, reaching for me. "You're alive. You're mine."

I didn't cry. I didn't run.

I unleashed a shockwave of ancient White Wolf energy that blasted him across the room, shattering the glass displays.

"I don't take orders from dogs anymore," I said, looking down at him.

"I, Hayley York, hereby reject you."

Chapter 1

Hayley POV:

The crystal chandeliers of the Pierre Hotel ballroom cast long, jagged shadows against the velvet walls, caging me in. I stood by the kitchen service doors, gripping a glass of lukewarm water, trying to blend into the wallpaper.

To the Dark Moon Pack, I wasn't just invisible; I was a stain.

My eyes found him instantly. Dean Lee, Alpha of New York's most powerful pack, anchored the center of the room. Even from here, his scent-crushed pine and ozone-hit me like a physical blow. It made the wolf deep inside my soul whimper.

Mate, she whispered, weak and thready.

But Dean wasn't looking at me. His hand rested on the waist of Karina, a Beta draped in red silk who laughed too loudly.

"Don't stare, mutt," a passing warrior sneered, checking my shoulder. Water sloshed onto my cheap grey dress. "You're lucky Alpha Dean let you out of the penthouse."

I kept my head down. Dean kept me around not as a mate, but as a shameful secret-a wolf-less Omega charity case. But tonight was the anniversary of my mother's death, and I needed him.

When the music swelled, Dean moved toward the terrace. I slipped through the crowd, heart hammering against my ribs.

"Dean?" I stepped onto the cool stone balcony.

He turned. His eyes, usually the color of stormy seas, looked glazed, almost unfocused before sharpening into a glare.

"I told you to stay out of sight, Hayley." His voice was a low growl.

"I know," I stammered. The proximity was dizzying. "It's about the necklace. My mother's moonstone. You have it in the pack vault. Please, Dean. It's the only thing I have left of her."

He looked at me, expressionless. "No."

"But... why? It's just a trinket to the pack."

"Karina likes moonstones," Dean said, adjusting his cufflinks. "She needs jewelry that befits a Luna. You have no need for ornamentation. It draws attention to your lack of status."

"She's not your mate," I whispered, the pain flaring hot. "I am."

Dean stepped forward, his Alpha aura washing over me, heavy and suffocating. There was a strange, sweet scent clinging to him-something cloying that masked his natural smell.

"You are an Omega with a dormant wolf," he spat. "You are weak. The Dark Moon Pack cannot have a weak mother. Know your place."

The glass doors opened. Karina stepped out, a smirk painted on her lips. "Is the stray bothering you, baby?"

"Just dealing with the trash," Dean said, turning his back on me.

I stood there, wind biting through my dress, as my soul cracked. I hid in the shadows of a potted plant to compose myself. Minutes later, the door opened again. Dean and Elder Marcus.

"The rogue chatter has increased," Marcus said. "They are targeting the penthouse tonight. They want Karina."

"Let them come," Dean said calmly.

"But Karina-"

"Karina goes to the panic room," Dean interrupted. "Hayley stays in the main bedroom."

I froze.

"Alpha?" Marcus sounded confused.

"The rogues track scent, but they're stupid," Dean explained, his voice devoid of emotion. "Hayley is saturated in my scent because she lives in my house. We put her in the open. The rogues will think she is the Luna. They attack her, buying us time to flank them."

"She could die," Marcus said.

"If she dies, she dies. The bait is expendable."

The world tilted. I wasn't a charity case. I was meat.

Run, my wolf screamed.

I turned to flee, but glass shattered in the ballroom. Screams erupted. The stench of rotting meat filled the air. Rogues.

I scrambled toward the service exit, but a heavy hand grabbed my hair. I was thrown across the room, crashing into a waiter's stand. Pain exploded in my shoulder. A massive, mud-matted wolf lunged at me.

"Dean!" I screamed.

Across the room, Dean was shielding Karina toward the secure exit. He looked back. Our eyes met. He saw the claws raised.

And he turned away.

Silver-coated claws raked across my chest. Fire tore through my skin. The poison sizzled in my blood, halting my healing.

I crawled backward. The rogue raised a claw for the kill. Suddenly, a waiter-moving with supernatural speed-slammed into the rogue, knocking it aside.

"Go!" the stranger hissed, shoving a burner phone into my bloody hand. "Fire escape. Now!"

I ran until my lungs burned. Collapsing in a dirty alleyway three blocks down, I dialed the only number stored in the phone.

"Secure line," a mechanical voice answered.

"This is Hayley York," I rasped. "I have the defense schematics for the Dark Moon Pack. I know the blind spots."

"And what do you want, little wolf?" Alpha Brennen of the Silver Lake Pack asked, his voice like velvet wrapped around a dagger.

"I want out," I sobbed. "Help me fake my death."

"Done. Stay where you are."

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