Not Just an Incubator: The Omega's Revenge

I thought I was the luckiest Omega in the world when the Alpha of the New Moon Pack chose me.

I was pregnant with his heir, sleeping in his bed, believing the warmth I felt was love.

But then I found the medical report hidden in his desk.

"Subject: Scent Modulator. Dosage: High."

It wasn't a fated bond. It was a drug. He was chemically forcing me to love him.

My best friend dragged me to a restaurant window, and I watched him kiss my cousin, Olivia.

Through the glass, I heard the words that shattered my soul.

"Just a few more months," Ethan told her, caressing her hand. "Once the incubator drops the brat, we'll dispose of her. Then we raise the heir as ours."

I was never his Luna. I was livestock. A walking womb chosen for my bloodline compatibility because his mistress was barren.

My father had tried to warn me with his dying breath, but I had been too blinded by the synthetic scent to listen.

Grief threatened to kill me, but the White Wolf inside me woke up screaming for vengeance.

I went back to the house. I didn't pack a bag. I went straight to the kitchen and brewed a tea of Wolfsbane and Mugwort.

I drank it all, weeping as I felt the bond to the baby snap.

Then, I walked into our bedroom, left the divorce papers on his pillow, and whispered into the mind-link:

"I, Ava Miller, reject you, Ethan Cole, as my mate."

As he screamed in my head, I blocked him and walked into the rain.

He thought he broke a weak Omega. He didn't know he had just unleashed a White Wolf.

Chapter 1

Ava POV

The first thing I felt was the warmth.

It wasn't just the morning sun bleeding through the silk curtains of the master bedroom. It was the heat radiating from the man sleeping beside me.

Ethan. My Alpha.

I lay perfectly still, afraid that even the sound of my breathing might disturb the stillness. He looked like a fallen god against the pristine white pillows. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, his eyelashes dark against his high cheekbones.

Being an Omega from a declining family, waking up in the arms of the Alpha of the New Moon Pack still felt like a hallucination. I silently thanked the Moon Goddess for this blessing.

I slid out of bed, my feet sinking into the plush carpet that cost more than my father's entire bookstore. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city skyline gleamed in the pale dawn light. This was his empire. And somehow, I was the queen.

"Ava?"

His voice was a low rumble, thick with sleep. It sent a shiver down my spine-the kind that made my knees weak. This was the Alpha's Command, even when he didn't mean to use it. It demanded absolute attention.

"I'm here, Ethan," I whispered, turning back. "I was just going to make coffee."

He smiled, that rare, charming expression that the tabloids would kill to capture. He pulled me back by the wrist, planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

"You spoil me," he murmured against my skin. "But don't tire yourself out. The pack needs their Luna healthy."

My heart swelled. He cared so much.

Breakfast was our ritual. I prepared his espresso exactly how he liked it-black, bitter, with a hint of cinnamon. He sat at the head of the table, scrolling through reports on his tablet.

"The tech merger is entering the final phase," he said, not looking up. "I might be late tonight."

"It's okay," I said, placing a plate of eggs before him. "I'll wait up."

I watched him eat, my mind drifting back to the day we met. He had walked into my father's failing bookstore like a storm. The air had changed pressure. He was magnificent.

But I frowned slightly, a nagging thought resurfacing.

When we first touched, I had expected the *Electric Touch*. The spark. The jolt that the legends said would stop your heart.

I felt... warmth. Comfort. But not the lightning.

*It's because my blood is too weak,* I told myself, pouring my own tea to distract my trembling hands. *I am just an Omega. I probably can't feel the full extent of the bond. I'm lucky he chose me at all.*

I inhaled deeply. His scent filled the room. It was overpowering-expensive cologne mixed with something musky and primal. It smelled like power.

"Ethan," I asked softly. "About the Marking ceremony..."

He paused, his fork hovering. The air grew tense and heavy.

"Ava," he sighed, his voice taking on a patronizing edge. "We discussed this. Being the Luna puts a target on your back. If I Mark you, my enemies will know you are my greatest weakness. I am protecting you."

"I know," I said quickly, shame flushing my cheeks. "I'm sorry. I just... I want to be yours completely."

"You are mine," he said, his eyes dark. "In every way that matters."

Later that day, I sat beside him at the Pack meeting. The high-ranking wolves-the Betas and Gammas-nodded at me, but their eyes were cold. They didn't see a Luna. They saw a lucky Omega.

I tried to keep my posture straight, mimicking the elegance I saw in magazines.

*Ava,* my father's voice echoed in my head. The Mind-Link was weak, filled with static; he was old and his wolf was fading.

*Yes, Papa?*

*Be careful, child. His scent... it changes. It's too perfect. Too strong.*

*Papa, please,* I replied, cutting him off gently. *He is an Alpha. His scent is supposed to be strong. You just aren't used to it.*

I cut the link before he could argue. I couldn't handle his paranoia. Not today.

I went to Ethan's study to organize his files, wanting to be useful. A stack of papers sat on the edge of his mahogany desk. As I straightened them, a medical report slid out.

It was blurry, a photocopy of a photocopy.

"Subject: Scent Modulator. Dosage: High."

I frowned. Scent Modulator? Was he sick? Was he taking medication to control his pheromones?

I put it back, burying the worry deep in my chest. It didn't matter. Because I had better news.

When Ethan came home that evening, I was trembling with joy.

"Ethan," I said, meeting him at the door. "I have news."

He looked tired, loosening his tie. "What is it, Ava?"

I took his hand and placed it on my flat stomach. "We're going to have a baby."

For a second-just a split second-I saw his eyes widen. Not with joy, but with something cold. Calculation. Like he was solving a math problem.

Then, the mask slid back into place.

"A baby?" He pulled me into a hug, but his body felt stiff. "That is... a blessing from the Moon Goddess. An heir."

"Are you happy?" I asked, muffled against his chest.

"I am ecstatic," he said. "I will give you and this child the best future possible. Trust me."

I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent, ignoring the tiny voice in my head that screamed something was wrong. I was pregnant. I was loved. Everything was perfect.

I pulled away to head to the kitchen, leaving him by the fireplace.

As I reached the doorway, I glanced back at his reflection in the dark window pane.

Ethan wasn't watching me leave. He was staring at the mantelpiece, at that old, blurry photo of a woman who looked just like me.

Even in the reflection, I could see his smile.

It wasn't a nice smile.

Ava POV

The morning sickness was not just violent; it was a purge.

It felt like my insides were trying to turn themselves inside out, wringing me dry. I gripped the porcelain of the toilet bowl, my knuckles white, retching until there was nothing left but acidic bile and the metallic taste of misery.

"Ava, are you done?"

Ethan stood in the doorway of the bathroom. He was dressed in a pristine grey suit, every line sharp and unyielding. He checked his watch, a gesture of practiced indifference.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, wiping my mouth with a towel that suddenly felt too rough against my skin. "It's just... the baby is strong."

"Right," he said. He didn't offer a hand. He didn't kneel beside me. He just looked at me with a flicker of impatience, as if my vomiting were a scheduling conflict. "I have to go. The meeting with the investors from the East Coast cannot wait."

He had been "working late" for three weeks straight.

When he came home, he didn't smell like the office. Underneath his heavy, synthetic Alpha scent-a musk that felt engineered rather than earned-there was something else. Floral. Sharp. Like lilies that had been left in the sun too long, beginning to rot.

*Ethan?* I reached out through the Mind-Link later that day.

Static.

*Ethan, are you there? I feel... anxious.*

The connection clicked open, then shut. Like a door slammed in my face. *Busy, Ava. Stop worrying.*

The isolation was suffocating. The Pack members whispered when I walked by, their voices dropping to a low hum like insects.

"Look at her," I heard a female Gamma whisper in the kitchen. "Walking around like she owns the place. Doesn't she know?"

"Shh," another hissed. "The Alpha will hear you."

Know what? What didn't I know?

That evening, the front door opened, bringing a draft of cold air. Ethan wasn't alone.

"Ava," he called out. "Come meet our guest."

I walked into the living room and froze.

Standing next to Ethan was a woman who could have been my sister, if my sister were carved from ice and venom. She had the same dark hair, the same pale skin, the same curve of the jaw. But where I was soft, she was sharp. Where I was plain, she was stunning.

She wore a red dress that clung to her curves like a second skin.

"This is Olivia Hayes," Ethan said, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. "A distant cousin of yours, actually. And a new business partner."

Olivia looked me up and down. Her eyes were devoid of warmth, scanning me like livestock.

"So this is Ava," she said. Her voice was smooth, like velvet over gravel. "She looks... robust."

"It's nice to meet you," I said, extending a hand that trembled slightly.

Olivia didn't take it. She just smiled, a tight, predatory expression. "Charmed."

Dinner was torture. It was a performance I hadn't rehearsed for. Ethan laughed at Olivia's jokes, a sound I hadn't heard in months. He poured her wine. He leaned in when she spoke, creating a private world at the table that didn't include me. He looked at her with a hunger I had never seen directed at me.

"So, Olivia," I said, my voice sounding thin in the heavy air, "what kind of business do you do?"

"I specialize in acquisitions," she said, staring straight at Ethan over the rim of her glass. "I take things that have potential and make them... valuable."

I felt sick again.

Later, during a gala the Pack was hosting, I excused myself to the restroom. On my way back, I passed a shadowed alcove. Two Warriors were talking in hushed tones.

"It's brutal," one muttered, shaking his head. "Bringing the mistress into the house while the wife is pregnant."

"Olivia isn't just a mistress," the other replied, his voice dripping with cynical knowing. "She's his intended Mate. Look at them. He only took the Omega for the bloodline compatibility. He needs an heir, and Olivia can't give him one."

The world tilted on its axis.

I stumbled back, my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle a cry. *No. That's impossible.*

I ran upstairs to our bedroom, my heart hammering against my ribs. I needed to smell him. I needed to prove them wrong.

I grabbed the shirt he had worn yesterday from the hamper. I buried my face in it, inhaling deeply, searching for the lie.

There it was. The lilies.

But it was stronger this time. And mixed with it was Ethan's scent-his *real* scent, not the cologne. It was the smell of sex, musky and undeniable.

My hands shook so hard I dropped the shirt. It hit the floor like a dead thing.

I went to his study. I needed answers. I tore through the drawers, papers flying like frightened birds, until I found the file again. The medical report I had seen once and ignored.

"Project: Synthetic Bond – Experimental Application on Omega Subject."

And below that, a handwritten note in Ethan's sharp script: "Target: Artificial Pheromone Induction. Success rate: 85%."

It was a spell. A chemical witch's brew to fake a Mate bond.

I sank to the floor, the room spinning around me. The "warmth" I felt? The "comfort"? It was drugs. It was lies.

*Ava...*

My father's voice broke into my mind again. It was weak, fading like a dying ember in the wind.

*Papa?*

*Ava... run... he is not... who he says... I am... dying...*

"Papa!" I screamed out loud.

I scrambled for my phone, my fingers slipping on the screen, and dialed Ethan. He picked up on the third ring.

"What?" He sounded annoyed, distracted.

"My father is dying," I sobbed, the words tearing from my throat. "Please, Ethan. I need to go to him. Please come with me."

There was a pause. I heard a woman's laughter in the background. Low. Husky. Olivia.

"I can't, Ava," Ethan said coldly. "The merger is happening tonight. Olivia needs my help. Send a driver. I'll see you when you get back."

The line went dead.

I sat in the dark study, clutching my stomach. The moon hung outside the window, a cold, unfeeling eye watching my ruin.

He chose her. He chose business. He chose the lie.

I looked down at my belly.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered to the life inside me, tears dripping onto my hands. "I'm so, so sorry."

Ava POV

The sharp sting of antiseptic clashed with the dusty scent of old paper, filling the small room of my childhood home with the odor of decay.

My father lay in the center of it all, looking less like the Alpha he once was and more like a skeleton draped in parchment. His chest barely rose, a fragile flutter against the stillness.

"Papa," I wept, wrapping my fingers around his cold, unmoving hand.

His eyelids fluttered. When they opened, the irises were milky, blind to the world around him but seeing something far beyond.

*Ava...*

His voice in my head was a whisper of wind, a fading echo.

*The scent... it was magic... dark magic...*

*I know, Papa,* I projected back, choking on the mental words. *I know now.*

*Run... before the pup comes...* His mental voice strained, fraying at the edges. *Once the heir is born... you are... useless...*

The link snapped.

It wasn't a sound; it was a physical severance, like a cord being cut deep within my chest. A long, high-pitched whine echoed in the room-not from a throat, but from the spiritual ether. It was his wolf, saying goodbye.

Then, silence.

He was gone.

The scream built in my throat, a raw, jagged thing, but I didn't have time to release it. The door burst open, shattering the moment.

"Ava!"

It was Chloe, my best friend since we were pups. She was a Beta, usually sturdy and composed, but now she looked frantic. Her face was streaked with tears, but beneath the sorrow, her eyes burned with a terrified fury.

"He's gone," I whispered, the numbness spreading from my chest to my limbs.

Chloe crossed the room in two strides and crushed me against her. "I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

Then, she pulled back, gripping my shoulders hard enough to bruise. "But Ava, you need to see this. You need to see it *now*."

I shook my head, trying to pull away. "Not now, Chloe... please..."

"Yes, now!" Her voice cracked, desperate. "Because he isn't at a meeting! He's lying to you, and if you don't see this, you're going to die!"

She shoved her phone into my hand. The screen was bright, intrusive in the dim room.

It was a video, shaky at first, taken through the window of a high-end restaurant downtown. But the subjects were clear.

Ethan was there. Olivia was there.

They weren't looking at spreadsheets. They weren't discussing pack borders.

Ethan was kissing her hand. He was looking at her with a softness that twisted my stomach into knots-a look of adoration I had craved for years but never received. It was the look of a man in love.

Then, the audio from Chloe's enhanced microphone kicked in, cutting through the ambient noise.

*"Just a few more months, my love,"* Ethan's voice was crisp, terrifyingly casual. *"Once the Omega drops the brat, we can send her to the Rogue territories. She won't survive a week. Then we raise the heir as ours."*

*"Are you sure the DNA will hold?"* Olivia asked, her fingers stroking his cheek possessively.

*"Positive,"* Ethan replied, leaning into her touch. *"The witch's spell ensured the child has my Alpha blood. Ava is just the incubator."*

*Incubator.*

The word didn't just echo in my skull; it ricocheted, shattering everything it touched.

Grief should have paralyzed me. I should have collapsed.

But I didn't.

Instead, a fire ignited at the base of my spine. It wasn't the warm spark of hope; it was hot, white, and furious. It seared through my veins, burning away the sadness, burning away the fear.

My vision blurred. For a second, the grey room vanished. The world sharpened into high-definition silver.

*Growl.*

The sound ripped from my throat, vibrating through my chest. It wasn't human.

"Ava?" Chloe stepped back, her eyes widening in shock. "Your eyes... they're glowing silver."

I stood up. The grief was gone, locked away in a box I would never open again. In its place stood the White Wolf. She had been sleeping, suppressed by their drugs and their lies, but the sheer magnitude of the betrayal had torn her cage apart.

"Take me back," I said.

My voice sounded strange-double-layered, harmonious and terrifying.

"To the Pack house?"

"Yes. I have something to do."

We drove back in silence. The air in the car was heavy, charged with the ozone scent of my gathering power. I didn't bother with stealth when we arrived. I walked straight to Ethan's study.

I ripped open the hidden compartment in his mahogany desk-I had seen him use it once, years ago.

There it was. The journal.

I flipped through it, my movements mechanical. It detailed everything. The "Scent Modulator." The bribes to the Pack doctor. The systematic dismantling of my life.

And then, a page marked with a red tab.

"Wolfsbane Mixture – Termination Protocol."

It was a recipe. A precise mix of Wolfsbane and Mugwort. Toxic to wolves, but in small, controlled doses... it expelled a fetus without killing the mother.

He had kept it as a contingency. In case I got pregnant with a girl. He only wanted a boy. He only wanted the heir.

I stared at the page, the ink blurring slightly.

I touched my stomach. This baby... it wasn't made of love. It was a science experiment. It was a chain forged by dark magic that would bind me to a monster, and eventually, lead to my execution.

If I had this baby, they would kill me.

If I had this baby, they would raise it to be a monster just like Ethan.

My White Wolf roared in my head, a sound of ancient judgment. *Break the chain.*

I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. My hand was steady. Cold as ice.

I wrote the divorce agreement, the pen digging deep into the paper. But ink wasn't enough. Paper couldn't sever a bond this twisted.

I needed the herbs.

I pulled out my phone and called Chloe.

"I need you to get me something," I said. "Don't ask questions."

"Anything, Ava."

"Wolfsbane," I commanded, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "Dried. And Mugwort."

There was a terrifying silence on the other end. I could hear Chloe's breath hitch.

"Ava... that will kill the baby."

"There is no baby, Chloe," I said, my voice dead, devoid of any motherly warmth. "There is only a trap."

"I'll bring it," she whispered, her voice trembling.

I hung up. I looked out the window at the full moon, hanging heavy and bright in the sky.

Tonight, the Omega dies.