From Rejected Omega To The Royal White Wolf

I stood in the rain, watching my ex-mate place fresh white roses next to a toxic silver chain on my headstone.

The epitaph read *Beloved Daughter*, which was laughable.

Five years ago, I called my father from a mangled car wreckage, bleeding out. Instead of sending an ambulance, he asked if the car was salvageable.

Then Clayton took the phone. He didn't offer help. He used the Alpha Command to reject me while I was dying, all because I was a "weak" wolf and his new favorite, Ainsley, needed his attention.

They left me to die in the gutter to protect their reputation.

Tonight, I walked into their desperate charity gala, wearing a dress worth more than their entire failing pack.

My father didn't weep with relief at my resurrection. He looked at me like a stain on his carpet.

"You ungrateful brat!" my aunt shrieked, slapping me across the face hard enough to draw blood. "You were supposed to stay dead! You're ruining Ainsley's night!"

They signaled security to dump me in the alley, thinking I was still the powerless girl they broke.

They didn't notice the air in the ballroom turn heavy with ozone. They didn't feel the crushing weight of a true predator entering the room.

Until the double doors exploded inward.

A man with eyes like molten gold stepped through the dust, his terrifying aura forcing every wolf in the room to their knees.

He looked at the red mark on my cheek and let out a roar that shook the chandeliers.

"WHO TOUCHED MY MATE?!"

My father trembled on the floor, looking between the enraged Alpha King and me. "Mate? But... she is nothing."

I smiled, my eyes flashing silver.

"Hello, husband," I whispered. "Let the execution begin."

Chapter 1

Ivy POV:

The rain in the Dillard Pack territory always smelled like *wet rot and decay*. It was a fitting scent for a place dying from the inside out.

I stepped out of my black SUV, my combat boots sinking slightly into the mud. I adjusted the collar of my trench coat, ensuring the heavy silver chain around my neck was hidden.

*It wasn't just jewelry. It was a cloak, forged by the Alpha King's own alchemist.*

As long as I wore it, I was a ghost. No scent. No aura. To the noses of the wolves guarding these borders, I was nothing more than a passing shadow.

I walked up the hill toward the family cemetery. The iron gates groaned as I pushed them open, a sound that grated against my heightened hearing.

There it was.

A slab of gray marble, cold and unfeeling, just like the people who put it there.

*Ivy Dillard. Beloved Daughter. Tragic Victim.*

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. The sound was swallowed by the wind.

"Beloved," I whispered, tracing the letters with a gloved finger. "That's rich."

At the base of the headstone lay a bouquet of plastic lilies, their colors faded by the sun, and a silver necklace.

I stared at the silver chain.

*Silver burns us. It sears the skin and poisons the blood. Placing it on a wolf's grave isn't an offering; it's a curse. A guarantee the spirit never finds the Clearing.*

"Still trying to hurt me, even when you think I'm dead," I muttered.

My inner wolf stirred. She was not the weak, dormant creature she had been five years ago. She was large, ancient, and currently very angry.

*Calm down,* I told her silently. *Not yet.*

An old man shuffled past the perimeter fence. He was the gravekeeper, an Omega who had been old even when I was a child. He looked right at me, his nose twitching, but his eyes glazed over.

He couldn't smell me. To a wolf, if you have no scent, you don't exist. He likely thought I was a human tourist or a hallucination.

I checked my watch. The timing had to be perfect.

*Intel confirmed the Greene Pack heir visited this spot annually. Not out of grief, but guilt. Or maybe just to make sure the dirt was still packed down tight.*

A low rumble of an engine cut through the sound of the rain.

A sleek sports car pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and a tall figure stepped out.

Clayton Greene.

My breath hitched, not out of affection, but out of the sheer force of memory.

He looked older. His jaw was sharper, his shoulders broader. He carried the air of an Alpha-in-training, but there was a slump to his posture that spoke of a heavy burden.

He held a bouquet of fresh white roses.

He walked toward the grave, his eyes fixed on the stone. He didn't see me standing in the shadow of a large oak tree right away.

He knelt, placing the roses next to the toxic silver chain.

"Five years, Ivy," he murmured. His voice was rough, like gravel grinding together. "Ainsley is... difficult. The pack is struggling. I should have known better."

I stepped out from the shadows. A twig snapped under my boot.

Clayton froze.

Wolves have reflexes faster than humans. He spun around, a low growl vibrating in his chest before he even registered what he was looking at.

His eyes locked onto mine.

The roses fell from his hand.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice laced with the command of an Alpha heir.

*It washed over me like a gentle breeze against a fortress wall. I wasn't a weak Omega anymore. I was a Royal Luna.*

He squinted, confused. He was inhaling deeply, trying to catch my scent to identify my rank and pack.

But he found nothing. Just the smell of rain.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Clayton," I said, my voice cool and steady.

His face went pale. He took a staggering step back, his hand clutching his chest.

I knew what was happening. His inner wolf was waking up. It was recognizing the mate bond he had tried to sever five years ago.

But because of my amulet, he couldn't be sure. He was fighting his own instincts.

"Ivy?" he choked out, the name sounding foreign on his tongue. "No. You're dead. I saw the car... the blood..."

"You saw what you wanted to see," I replied.

I didn't step closer. I didn't need to. I just stood there, letting the rain wash over me, watching the man who had destroyed me crumble at the sight of my resurrection.

"Why can't I smell you?" he whispered, panic rising in his eyes. "Are you... are you a demon?"

I smiled, and it wasn't a nice smile.

"To you? I might be."

I turned on my heel, my trench coat flaring behind me.

"Wait!" he shouted.

I didn't stop. The game had just begun.

*

Ivy POV:

"Ivy! Stop!"

Clayton's hand clamped around my upper arm.

The moment his skin touched the fabric of my coat, a jolt of static electricity snapped between us.

It wasn't the pleasurable spark of a mate bond. It was the stinging, ugly backlash of a broken connection. It felt like touching a live wire.

Clayton hissed and jerked his hand back, staring at his palm as if it were burned.

"That... that shouldn't happen," he stammered. "You're dead. I rejected you."

I turned slowly, fixing him with a gaze cold enough to freeze hell over.

"Yes," I said. "You did."

*The memory hit me-wet asphalt, crushed legs, the metallic taste of blood. And his voice on the phone, cold as the grave.*

*I can't, Ivy. Ainsley is starting her First Shift tonight. She needs me.*

*I, Clayton Greene, reject you...*

*He had ripped my heart out while I was bleeding into the gutter.*

I looked at the man standing before me in the rain. The memory fueled my inner wolf, making her pace aggressively in my mind.

"You used the Alpha Command on a dying girl to make her stay silent," I said, my voice low. "You told me to disappear."

"I... I thought it was for the best," Clayton stammered. He looked confused, his arrogance battling with the undeniable pull of the bond that was trying to reattach itself. "Ainsley was... she was perfect. The pack needed strength."

"And now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clayton looked at me. Really looked at me.

Five years ago, I was a scrawny, mousy girl. Now, thanks to the royal training and proper nutrition, I was tall, fit, and radiated a beauty that came from power.

I saw the lust flare in his eyes. It was disgusting.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. "Ivy, I didn't know. If you had looked like this... if you had shifted..."

"If I had been useful to you," I corrected.

He stepped closer, trying to use his height to intimidate me. It was a classic Alpha move.

"I can sense the bond," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "It's weak, but it's there. My wolf wants you. You must feel it too."

"I feel nothing but nausea," I said.

He ignored me. "Ainsley... she hasn't given me an heir yet. The elders are unhappy. If you come back... if you apologize to Ainsley for the deception..."

I stared at him, incredulous. "Apologize?"

"Yes. For faking your death. For embarrassing the family," Clayton said, gaining confidence. "If you do that, I can take you in. Not as Luna, of course-the rejection is done-but as a Pack Mistress. You would be protected. You would be with me."

My inner wolf snarled so loud I thought he might hear it. *He wants to make us a whore in our own home! Kill him!*

*Patience,* I soothed her.

"Let me get this straight," I said, stepping into his personal space. I saw his nostrils flare as he tried desperately to find my scent. "You left me to die. You rejected me. And now, you offer me the position of a mistress?"

"It's a generous offer for a wolf with no pack and no scent," he sneered, his Alpha arrogance returning. "You are clearly powerless, Ivy. You need protection."

I looked at the plastic flowers in his hand.

"Your love is like those flowers, Clayton," I said softly. "Cheap. Artificial. And it will never grow."

I turned and walked toward my car.

"You're making a mistake!" he yelled after me. "You can't survive out there as a Rogue!"

I opened the car door and looked back one last time.

"I am not a Rogue, Clayton. And you have no idea what survival looks like."

I slammed the door, leaving him standing in the rain, clutching his chest as the delayed pain of the rejection finally hit him.

*

Ivy POV:

I drove fast.

The moment I was clear of the cemetery and back on the highway, I let out a breath I had been holding for an hour. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight the leather creaked.

Seeing him hadn't broken me. But it had enraged me.

I navigated through the city until I reached the penthouse suite of the Richardson Hotel. This building was sovereign territory of the Royal Pack-a safe haven.

I parked the car in the private garage and took the elevator up.

As soon as the doors closed, I reached up and unclasped the silver amulet from my neck.

The sensation was immediate. It was like taking off a heavy wool coat in the middle of a desert.

My power flooded back. My scent-a mix of winter frost, night-blooming jasmine, and ozone-filled the small space of the elevator. My aura expanded, heavy and commanding.

I was no longer just Ivy. I was a Luna.

I walked into the penthouse. It was modern, secure, and smelled like home.

*Are you safe, my love?*

The voice in my head was deep, velvety, and felt like a warm blanket wrapped around my mind.

*The Mind-Link.*

*I am safe, Collin,* I replied, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders at the sound of his voice. *I just left the graveyard.*

I pulled out my phone and initiated a secure video call.

The screen lit up instantly.

Collin Anderson's face filled the frame. He was breathtaking. Dark hair, a strong jawline covered in stubble, and eyes that were a piercing, molten gold-the sign of an incredibly powerful Alpha.

He was in his office at the Anderson Pack headquarters. He looked ready to kill someone.

"Did he touch you?" Collin asked. His voice was a low growl that vibrated through the phone speakers.

"He grabbed my arm," I admitted.

Collin's eyes flashed. I could hear the wood of his desk creaking as he gripped it. "I will tear his arm off."

"Focus, Alpha," I said gently. "It hurt him more than it hurt me. The rejection backlash stung him."

Suddenly, a small, chaotic blur jumped into Collin's lap.

"Mama!"

My heart melted. Leo, my four-year-old son, grinned at the camera. He had my dark hair but his father's golden eyes.

"Hi, baby wolf," I cooed. "Are you being good for Daddy?"

"Yes! Grandpa Alaric let me howl at the moon!" Leo chirped.

Alaric Richardson, the Alpha King, stepped into the frame behind Collin. He looked regal and terrifying to most, but to me, he was the father Donnell Dillard never was.

"Everything is in place, Ivy," Alaric said, his voice stern but kind. "The Dillard Pack is hosting a 'Charity Gala' tonight at the Grandeur Hotel. They are desperate for investors. It is the perfect stage."

"I know," I said, my expression hardening. "I'll be there."

Collin pulled Leo closer, nuzzling the top of his head. The contrast between Clayton's selfish proposition and Collin's fierce, protective love was stark.

Collin was my Second Chance Mate.

*The Moon Goddess rarely grants do-overs. But when she does, she doesn't mess around.*

When I met Collin three years ago, I was broken. He didn't try to fix me; he loved me until I fixed myself.

"Be careful," Collin said, his eyes locking onto mine through the screen. "Your wolf is strong, Ivy. But they play dirty."

"Let them try," I said. "I'm not the girl they killed anymore."

"No," Collin smiled, a predatory, proud grin. "You are my Queen."

We ended the call. I felt the warmth of the bond lingering in my chest-the Soul's Peace. It gave me the strength I needed for what came next.

*I walked to the closet. No disguises tonight. No hiding.*

*It was time to dress for an execution.*

*