Abandoned By My Mate, Claimed By The Most powerful The Alpha King

Eleonora POV:

My head hurts terribly. At the same time, I seem to be lying on something cold and hard-that must be concrete.

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach, hot and acidic. The smell of mold and damp earth filled my lungs, making me cough.

My eyes fluttered open. The world was a blur of gray shadows and a single, grime-coated window high on one wall.

"Look, she's waking up." The voice was a low rumble, laced with a greasy sort of amusement.

My vision sharpened. Three shapes solidified into men. Large men. They stood in a loose semi-circle, blocking the only door. Their smiles were identical, predatory and cruel.

The one in the middle, a bull of a man with a thick neck, cracked his knuckles. The sound echoed in the small, damp space. "Awake, little Omega? Miss Karmen is eager to see what a mess you've become."

Karmen.My half-sister.

Everything that happened last night pierced my mind like shards of glass. She used that gentle, caring tone to trick me into drinking that drink. Soon after, I lost consciousness. So that's how it was... a painfully obvious trap. I should've realized something was wrong, but I fell right into it anyway.

My stomach twisted. Not with fear. With a cold, hard knot of fury.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. My gaze flickered past them, scanning the small, derelict storage shed. My eyes cataloged every detail. Piles of rotting sacks. A stack of splintered wooden pallets. And there, leaning against the far wall, a length of rusted iron pipe.

The bull-necked man, Rocco, chuckled. "Don't bother looking. No one's coming to save you. Your useless fiancé Julian is probably keeping Miss Karmen warm right now."

Julian. The mention of his name was a small, sharp sting, a pinprick to the heart that was quickly cauterized by the spreading fire of my anger.

Last night, during the ceremony, he made his choice and rejected me in front of the entire clan. If it weren't for him, how would I have become so overcome with grief that I let my guard down, allowing Carmen to...

I pushed myself up, my movements slow and deliberate. I pretended to shrink back against the wall, making myself look smaller, more afraid. My body, however, was coiling, shifting my weight onto the balls of my feet. It was a basic readiness stance, one of the first things I'd learned in the self-defense classes I took back in the human world.

A lanky, thin-faced man to Rocco's left stepped forward. "Let's have some fun before we call her," he sneered, his eyes roaming over me in a way that made my skin crawl. He reached a grimy hand toward my hair.

The moment his fingers were inches away, I moved.

Not backward. Forward.

It was the last thing he expected. My body uncoiled like a spring. My elbow, a sharp point of bone, drove hard into the soft flesh just below his ribcage. The medical student in me knew exactly where to strike. The solar plexus.

He let out a choked grunt, the air forced from his lungs. He doubled over, his face a mask of pained surprise.

Rocco and the third man stared, frozen for a half-second. A wolfless Omega wasn't supposed to fight back. We were supposed to tremble and beg.

I didn't give them time to recover.

My leg snapped out, the heel of my worn boot connecting with the side of the lanky man's knee. A sickening crunch. He screamed, a high, thin sound, and collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg.

"You bitch!" Rocco roared, finally lunging.

I was already moving, using the downed man's body as a springboard, launching myself toward the iron pipe. My fingers brushed against the cold, rough metal just as Rocco's hand closed around my ankle.

He yanked. Hard.

I fell, but I twisted as I went down, rolling with the momentum. The iron pipe was now firmly in my grasp. I didn't try to get up. From a half-kneeling position, I swung the pipe in a low, vicious arc.

It connected with Rocco's shin.

The sound was a dull, wet thud, followed by a roar of pure, animalistic pain. He staggered back, his leg buckling.

The third man, who had been circling around, finally charged, trying to grab me from behind. I felt the air shift, heard his heavy footfalls. Without looking, I jabbed the pipe backward, putting my entire body weight behind the thrust.

The end of the pipe slammed into his gut. He made a sound like a deflating balloon and crumpled.

I scrambled to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs. Adrenaline was a fire in my veins. The three of them were on the floor, groaning in pain, temporarily out of commission. But not for long.

I wasn't a fool. I couldn't win a prolonged fight. My only goal was to escape.

I sprinted for the door. It was old wood, warped and heavy. I didn't bother with the handle. I threw my shoulder against it with every ounce of strength I had.

The wood groaned, splintered. I hit it again.

The lock gave way with a crack of tortured metal and wood. The door flew open, slamming against the outer wall.

Moonlight, blindingly bright after the dim shed, flooded my vision. I stumbled out into the cool night air, gasping. I didn't know where I was, only that it was the edge of the pack lands, near the wilder parts of the forest.

Behind me, Rocco's enraged howl echoed. "Get her! The Alpha will have our hides if she gets away!"

I ran.

I plunged into the trees, into the deepest, darkest part of the woods I could find. My human-world survival training kicked in. I moved erratically, using the thick trunks of ancient oaks and pines for cover, my feet barely making a sound on the carpet of dead leaves.

My lungs burned. My legs ached. But my mind was a block of ice. Calm. Focused.

They were faster than me. Stronger. I could hear them crashing through the undergrowth behind me, their pursuit clumsy but relentless.

A root, thick as my arm and hidden in the shadows, snaked out of the ground. My foot caught.

My balance was gone. I pitched forward, a cry tearing from my throat, my arms flailing for something to grab onto.

But I didn't hit the forest floor.

The ground simply vanished beneath me.

The fall ended not with a bone-shattering crash, but with a strange, yielding impact. I landed on something solid, yet oddly soft. And hot. Incredibly hot.

Darkness was absolute. The only sensory input was a scent that flooded my consciousness, overwhelming and complex. It was like snow-covered pines and a crackling bonfire, laced with an undercurrent of something metallic and sharp, like blood. And pain. The air tasted of pure agony.

I scrambled to push myself up, my palms pressing against what I thought was the ground. My fingers met warm, firm muscle.

A man's chest.

It rose and fell in ragged, shallow breaths.

A low groan, tight with suppressed torment, rumbled from beneath me.

Eleonora POV:

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

The words tumbled out of me in a panicked rush.

There was no answer. Instead, the body beneath me convulsed. The skin, which had been burning hot a second ago, turned instantly, shockingly cold. A deep, unnatural chill radiated from him, so intense it felt like lying on a block of ice. I gasped, snatching my hands back as if burned.

But then, just as quickly, the heat returned, more intense than before. It was a searing, feverish heat that seemed to radiate from his very bones.

My eyes were slowly adjusting. A sliver of moonlight from the opening high above cut through the gloom, illuminating the scene.

I was in some kind of stone chamber. I realized then-the hole I'd fallen through wasn't a random pit, but a concealed ventilation shaft for the pack's ancient sub-structures. And I had fallen directly onto a man lying on a stone slab. He was magnificent, even in his torment. Broad-shouldered, with a sharp jawline and short, dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His upper body was bare, and what I saw made my breath catch in my throat.

Strange, shifting patterns, like frost and embers, were crawling across his skin. One moment, delicate, icy blue fractals of frost would bloom across his chest, the next they would be consumed by glowing, fiery red lines that looked like lava flowing beneath his skin.

His amber eyes, blazing with pain in the darkness, were clenched shut. His teeth were gritted so hard I could hear them grinding.

My medical training, a part of me I thought I'd left behind in the human world, surged to the forefront. The fear, the chase, my own predicament-it all faded away.

"This is... a sympathetic nervous storm," I whispered to myself, the clinical term a strange comfort in this bizarre situation. "With paradoxical thermoregulation failure."

The man's eyes snapped open at the sound of my voice. They locked onto me, filled with the raw violence of a cornered animal. This was his den, his sanctuary, and I was an intruder.

He tried to speak, to snarl a command, but another wave of agony ripped through him. He arched his back, a guttural roar of pure pain tearing from his throat. His muscles seized, his whole body writhing in a violent spasm.

This was critical. Whatever was happening to him, he was crashing.

Forgetting my own danger, I moved. My mind had only one directive: stabilize the patient.

My hands fumbled at the small leather pouch I always wore strapped to my thigh, hidden beneath my dress. My emergency kit. Thank the Goddess, it was still there. I'd prepared it in case Karmen tried something, never imagining I'd use it like this.

My fingers closed around the cool, familiar shape of a pre-filled syringe. A high-dose benzodiazepine. A powerful sedative.

"Listen to me," I said, my voice firm, professional. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but this will help ease the pain. Do not move!"

His wolf was probably screaming at him. A stranger! Kill her! I could see the battle in his eyes, the instinct to lash out warring with the crippling pain that held him prisoner. He watched me, this strange silver-haired woman who had literally fallen from the sky, his gaze sharp and assessing even through the haze of his suffering. I saw a flicker of something else, too. Confusion. As if my scent-rain-washed grass and the ozone tang of an approaching storm, as I'd been told-was somehow cutting through his agony.

There was no time for hesitation. I grabbed his arm, my fingers expertly finding the large vein in his forearm. The needle slid in, smooth and certain. I depressed the plunger.

His body went rigid at my touch, a primal reaction to an unknown contact. But the drug was fast-acting.

I watched as the violent tremors began to subside. The terrible tension in his muscles eased. The fiery and icy patterns on his skin didn't disappear, but they seemed to recede, their glow dimming.

He collapsed back onto the stone slab, his breathing still harsh but no longer a desperate fight for air. He was panting, sweat pouring down his temples. His amber eyes, now clear of the worst of the pain, stared at me. The raw violence was gone, replaced by a stunned, piercing curiosity.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. My own heart was pounding. I knelt beside him, my medical mind taking over again. I studied the faint, pulsing patterns on his skin.

"This isn't any disease I know," I murmured, thinking aloud. "It's not poison, not in the conventional sense. The presentation is too... symmetrical. Too rhythmic. It's more like... a curse."

The word hung in the air.

His eyes narrowed. He knew what I was talking about. Who was this woman? How could she possibly know?

I didn't notice his sharp gaze. I tore a strip from the hem of my already ruined dress, dampened it with a small vial of saline from my pouch, and began to gently wipe the sweat from his brow. My movements were automatic, the practiced, gentle motions of a doctor tending to a patient.

A strange quiet settled in the chamber. In the back of my mind, I felt his wolf, which had been a raging tempest, grow quiet. It was watching me, not with aggression, but with a strange, possessive stillness. A single, silent word echoed in the space between us, a feeling more than a sound.

Mine.

The sudden sound of footsteps and muffled shouts from above shattered the moment.

"She's got to be down here somewhere! Spread out and find her!" It was Julian's voice.

I went stiff, the blood draining from my face. They had found the hole.

"Julian, please-don't be too hard on her." Karmen's voice floated down, syrupy and concerned. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Eleonora wouldn't just... run off to meet someone. She's not that kind of woman."

A pause.

"Then why did her tracking charm lead us to the eastern maintenance tunnels?" Julian's voice was cold. "Why would she be down here at all?"

"I don't know," Karmen said softly, "but we should give her the benefit of the doubt. She's been through so much. The rejection at the ceremony must have..." She let the words hang, heavy with implication.

I could picture her perfectly-head tilted, eyes wide with false sympathy, planting the seeds of doubt with every word that sounded like a defense.

Julian's footsteps quickened.

"That grate," Karmen's voice rose, feigning surprise, "Julian, look. The ventilation grate-it's been pushed open. Do you think she went down there?"

"She wouldn't be that foolish," Julian muttered, but I heard him stop. Heard his boots scrape against stone as he peered down.

Karmen's voice dropped, so soft I almost missed it. "There's someone else down there with her, isn't there? I can just... feel it."

With a grinding shriek of stone against stone, a section of the far wall swung inward, revealing a hidden passage.

Then, torchlight spilled through the opening above, a blinding gold that cut through the darkness. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Then, two figures appeared at the mouth of the cave, framed by moonlight. Julian's face was a mask of cold fury, his jaw tight. Beside him, Karmen's lips parted in a perfect O of theatrical shock. But I saw the glint beneath-the smug, venomous satisfaction.

Eleonora POV:

The torchlight blazed down on me: disheveled, kneeling beside a half-naked stranger, my hands still stained with his fever-sweat. No escape. No words. Just the damning picture they had come to see.

"So this is why you ran," Julian sneered, his eyes darting from me to the man on the slab. "Just to crawl into his bed."

"Sister!" Her voice was a high-pitched, venomous shriek that echoed off the stone walls. "How could you? With a... a rogue! In a place like this? You've brought such shame upon our family!"

Julian's face was a mask of cold fury. His green eyes, once filled with a warmth I'd mistaken for affection, now held nothing but disgust. I could see the thought plain on his face: He's glad he rejected me at the ceremony last night, but he's also angry with me because of my actions now, thinking I've betrayed him all along.

The injustice of it was a physical blow. Karmen's plan was brutally simple and brutally effective. It wasn't enough to have me assaulted; she wanted to destroy my name, my honor, everything.

A primal, protective instinct I didn't know I possessed surged through me. Without thinking, I shifted my body, moving to stand between the stone slab and the intruders. It was a small movement, but it was a clear statement. A shield.

From behind me, I felt more than saw the man on the bed react. A subtle shift in the air, a flicker of something in his intense amber eyes before they slid shut. In the instant Julian and Karmen had burst in, he had composed himself, his face going slack, his breathing evening out. He was playing the part of an unconscious man, exhausted after a sordid tryst. He was hiding.

I faced Julian, my chin held high. The pain from my fall, the terror of the chase-it was all burned away by a cold, clear rage. "What I do is none of your concern, Julian Sinclair. You rejected me. Remember?"

My words hit their mark. A flash of anger crossed his face, the sting of his authority being questioned. "As a member of this pack, your conduct reflects on all of us! Consorting with rogues is a crime. I have every right to deal with you!"

He jerked his head at the two warriors behind him. "Seize them both."

"No!" The word was torn from my throat. I spread my arms, blocking the path to the bed, a mother wolf defending her den. My voice dropped, low and shaking with fury. "You will not touch him."

Everyone froze. Karmen's jaw went slack, her act momentarily forgotten. Julian stared, incredulous. An Omega, a wolfless Omega, was openly defying an Alpha's direct command. It was unthinkable.

A slow, wicked smile spread across Karmen's face. This was even better than she had planned. The more I defended this rogue, the more guilty I appeared.

Julian's pride, the fragile ego of a young Alpha, was wounded. He stalked toward me, his steps heavy with menace. The air grew thick, heavy with the oppressive weight of his pheromones. It was an Alpha's aura, designed to command submission, to force lesser wolves to their knees.

My lungs felt tight, my knees weak. Every instinct screamed at me to bow my head, to submit.

"Eleonora," he snarled, his face inches from mine, "I will not say it again. Move. Aside."

I held my ground. I didn't know why I was so determined to protect this stranger. Maybe it was the doctor in me refusing to abandon a patient. Maybe it was the simple, stubborn refusal to let Karmen win. Not again. Not this time.

On the bed, the stranger was a silent observer. But even with his eyes shut, I felt a strange, invisible tension radiating from him. The air seemed to hum with a sudden, oppressive energy-the kind that usually accompanied a high-level mind-link, a frequency I was barred from hearing. He wasn't just lying there; he was calculating.

Why didn't he move? I could feel his gaze burning into my back, heavy and inscrutable. It felt as though he were weighing me, watching to see how far a "wolfless" Omega would go to protect a rogue. He was a predator, and I was an anomaly that had caught his attention.

The two warriors, prodded by Julian's impatient glare, finally moved. They started to circle around me, their hands reaching for the man on the bed.

"Don't touch him!" I shrieked, my hand grabbing a loose stone from the floor. I was ready to fight, to throw it, to do anything.

"Enough of this!" Julian's patience snapped. His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist like a manacle of steel. The force of his grip sent a shock of pain up my arm. I cried out, the stone clattering to the floor.

He flung my hand away in disgust. "You are pathetic."

I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the edge of the stone slab. I fell against it, the hard edge digging into my back.

The warriors' hands were descending, their fingers just an inch from the stranger's bare shoulder.

And then, a voice cut through the tense air. It was quiet, almost lazy, yet it resonated with an absolute power that stopped every heart in the room.

"My private sanctuary," the voice drawled, "has become a rather popular spot. Tell me, Sinclair, when did you get the authority to cause a scene in my territory?"

Every head snapped toward the bed.

The man who was supposed to be unconscious was now sitting up. He leaned back against the stone wall, one leg casually crossed over the other. The picture of relaxed, indolent power.

His amber eyes weren't looking at Julian. They were fixed on me, on the small, trembling, but unbroken line of my back. There was a spark of something in their depths. Amusement. Approval.

I stared, my mouth agape. The man who had been writhing in agony, who I had sedated and tended to, was now radiating an aura of command that made Julian's feel like a child's tantrum.

Julian and Karmen's faces had gone from angry to confused to utterly, bone-chillingly white. The recognition, the dawning horror, was a sight to behold.

Julian's voice was a strangled whisper, laced with a terror so profound it made him shake.

"Alpha... Cedric?"