Rejected By Her Mate, Claimed By The Supreme Alpha

Colette Davis POV:

"Please, just pass the message one more time. My mother's purification herbs and surgery fees are still short by eighty thousand dollars. She can't wait any longer!"

Freezing rain soaked my thin trench coat as I gripped the McLeod estate's iron gates, the guard in a black raincoat rapped his baton beside my fingers, his eyes full of contempt.

"Miss Davis, the Alpha said he isn't seeing guests tonight. Stop being an eyesore and get off the driveway."

I bit my trembling lips. The pack believed I was wolfless-born-genetically defective, unable to shift or access the mental network-so even a low-ranking guard felt free to treat me like dirt.

Before he could take a step toward the booth, A black Maybach tore through the puddles on the private road. The gates swung inward, and the car stopped just inside the compound.

The rear window slid halfway down, revealing the cold, grim face of my biological father, Bryant McLeod-Alpha of the McLeod Pack, the man who had thrown my sick mother and me out years ago for his mistress.

I lunged through the gate and gripped the wet edge of his window. "Father, please save Mom! I just need eighty thousand dollars. I'll work like a slave to pay the pack back, I swear!"

Bryant's brows drew together in disgust. He shoved my wet fingers off the glass as if I carried plague.

"What does the life or death of that lowly mother of yours have to do with the Mcleod Pack? Keep your hands off my car."

Desperation choked my throat, and I tightened my grip on the doorframe, ignoring the sharp pain as my fingernails split against the metal trim.

The front passenger door clicked open.

Drema Mcleod stepped out under an expensive lace umbrella, wearing a custom waterproof trench coat.

As my father's favored younger daughter-born to the scheming woman who had ruined my mother's marriage-Drema had spent her whole life relishing every chance to trample on me.

Even the guards whispered about how the Alpha treated his second daughter like a princess while leaving his firstborn to rot.

She looked down with a vicious smile. "Sister, Father already said no. Why are you still clinging to the car like a stray dog?"

I glared back at her, pressing the small surgeon's callus on the inside of my right index finger hard against the wet window glass.

"This is between Father and me. Shut your mouth and stay out of it!"

A dark flash crossed Drema's eyes. Without warning, she tossed her lace umbrella aside, lunged toward me on her high heels, and reached out to claw at my shoulders.

My reflexes kicked in. I twisted my torso and stepped to the left, avoiding her hands completely.

Drema didn't slow down. She threw herself forward with a piercing scream.

"Ah! It hurts!"

She crashed straight into a deep mud puddle beside the driveway, soaking her designer dress in brown sludge.

Bryant shoved his car door open, rushed out into the pouring rain, and bent down to pull Drema into his arms.

"Drema! My good girl, are you alright?"

Drema is crying on Bryant's chest, "Father, I only wanted to persuade my sister to go home, and she shoved me..."

My eyes widened as rain blurred my vision.

"I didn't even touch her! She threw herself on the ground!"

Bryant didn't listen to a single word. He spun around, raised his right hand-still gripping his heavy blackwood cane-and swung his open palm straight across my face.

The raw force of an Alpha's strike knocked me off my feet and sent me crashing onto the rough asphalt, tearing the skin right off my palms.

Warm blood filled my mouth. I lay sprawled in the freezing mud as my suppressed inner wolf let out a low.

But I can't let her out now, not yet.

Bryant stood over me, pointing his cane at my head as he roared.

"You vicious little bastard! Not only is your bloodline defective, you dare hurt your own sister? Get off my territory right now!"

Peeking out from behind Bryant's shoulder, Drema shot me a triumphant sneer and silently mouthed two words: You lost.

I pushed myself up inch by inch on my muddy arms, the freezing rain washing over my swollen cheek , I locked my ice-blue eyes on the father and daughter before me, every trace of pleading gone.

I spat a mouthful of bloody water onto the pavement, "Fine, Bryant Mcleod. That slap just severed the last drop of blood between us."

Bryant let out a cold laugh, his face twisting with disdain.

"Severed? Coming from a useless piece of trash who can't even feel an inner wolf? Get lost!"

I didn't spare them another glance. I spun on my heel, forced my spine straight, and dragged my stiff legs away from the gates into the dark street.

Behind me, the Maybach's engine purred to life. The tires rolled through the water, splashing dirty droplets across my calves, but I didn't break my stride.

I wrapped my arms around my soaked ribs as I hurried toward Bryson's downtown apartment building.

He is my boyfriend,a secondary Alpha and my very last hope to save my mother's life.

If Bryson would just lend me the eighty thousand dollars, I was willing to swallow whatever pride I had left to keep my mother breathing.

I wiped the rainwater from my face with the back of my torn hand.

I rode the elevator to Bryson's penthouse, keyed in my birthday at his door, and as it clicked open, a wave of alcohol and sweet perfume hit me.

Colette Davis POV:

I knew this artificial floral scent all too well-it was the limited-edition bottle my best friend, Bridie Bates, wore every single day.

I walked quietly past the entryway into the living room. A men's suit jacket and red lace underwear lay tangled on the white rug.

The master bedroom door stood cracked open, and ragged breathing and the creak of a mattress spilled into the hall.

My heart seized. I forced myself toward the sliver of light.

Through the gap in the door, I saw two naked bodies writhing together on the king-sized bed I had helped pick out.

The man with his back to the door, driving his hips forward with a low grunt, was Bryson Cruz-the secondary Alpha heir to the minor Cruz Pack who had sworn just last week that he would make me his bride to elevate our families.

And pinned beneath him, arching her neck and wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders with a high-pitched moan, was my closest friend of five years, Bridie Bates.

My heart aches.Bryson and I had no completed mate marking, but we had exchanged verbal promises.

Betrayal was not just moral-it was physical pain. My knees buckled, and I caught myself against the doorframe.

I bit down hard on my lower lip until the metallic taste of fresh blood coated my tongue. Lifting my right leg, I drove the sole of my shoe straight into the bedroom door.

The wood slammed against the drywall with a deafening bang. On the bed, the two figures froze as if struck by lightning and whipped their heads toward the doorway.

Bridie let out a shrill shriek and scrambled to yank the silk duvet over her bare breasts, the blood draining from her face.

"Colette! How... how did you get in here?"

Bryson tumbled off the side of the mattress in a panic. He fumbled on the floor to grab a white bath towel and wrapped it around his waist, the flush of lust on his face twisting into red-faced fury.

"Don't you know how to knock before walking into someone's house?"

I stared at the two of them, my chest heaving as I forced down the bile rising in my throat.

"Knock? So the two of you could put your clothes back on and keep pretending to be human?"

As Bryson took in my mud-splattered coat and the swollen red print on my cheek, the anger in his eyes shifted into open disgust.

"Just look at yourself right now. You look like a drowned rat. What part of you looks like a woman fit to marry into an Alpha family?"

Hiding behind Bryson's bare shoulder, Bridie recovered from her shock. The corner of her mouth lifted in a smug, taunting smirk, but her tone of voice is so pitiful and weak.

"Colette, you really can't blame Bryson. He's a normal male with normal needs. Whatever you're too cold and defective to give him, I can provide."

Looking at the face of the woman I had trusted with all my secrets made my heart cramp.

"Bridie, are you really that desperate that you have to dig through someone else's trash for leftovers?"

Bridie's face twisted, her voice turning shrill.

"Stop acting so high and mighty! That half-dead mother of yours is a bottomless money pit! The only reason you dragged yourself here tonight is to beg Bryson for cash, isn't it?"

Bryson lifted his chin and rubbed the small black mole on the left corner of his jaw, a habit he always showed when he felt superior.

"Look, Colette. Seeing you is your own good fortune. As long as you learn to keep your mouth shut and turn a blind eye to Bridie and me, I might consider tossing that eighty thousand your way as charity."

He was actually using my mother's life as leverage to force me to swallow his betrayal.

A cold laugh escaped me. I stepped forward, snatched the half-full wineglass from the nightstand, and flung the dark liquid into his face.

Crimson wine dripped from his hair and ran down his nose. Bryson roared, lunging forward with his hand raised to strike me.

"You crazy bitch!"

I didn't flinch. I locked my ice-blue eyes onto his, letting a razor-thin sliver of my suppressed White Wolf dominance leak into the air.

"Touch me once. I dare you."

Bryson's raised hand froze mid-air. A flash of primal confusion crossed his face as his secondary Alpha instincts recoiled from the sudden chill in my gaze.

With a curl of my lip, I hurled the empty crystal wineglass onto the hardwood floor, sending sharp shards flying across their bare feet.

"Bryson Cruz, our engagement is dead. Just looking at you makes me want to throw up."

I shifted my gaze to Bridie, my voice flat and cold.

"A cheap whore and a stray dog. May the two of you rot together forever."

Without waiting for an answer, I turned on my heel and walked out of the suffocating apartment.

My mother's medical funds were gone, my father had disowned me, and my fiancé had betrayed me in the filthiest way possible. Every road in front of me was blocked.

Stepping into the empty elevator, I leaned my back against the cold steel wall and pressed both hands over my face, forcing my racing pulse to slow down.

I was the top trauma surgeon and Healer in the city hospital. I refused to watch my mother die in that sterile room.I must get the money before tomorrow afternoon.

A reckless and terrible idea gradually took shape in my mind.

I stood up, tightened my wet coat and walked towards the exit.

Colette Davis POV:

After a sleepless night spent watching the monitors beside my mother's bed, I met Dr. Gregory Price as soon as I went out.

A senior Pack Doctor who respected my surgical skill, he pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up with a grim expression.

"Dr. Davis, your mother's account is officially in arrears and her medication has been halted. If the eighty thousand dollars isn't deposited by three o'clock this afternoon, administration will force us to move her out of the sterile chamber."

My fingers clung to the plastic edge of the medical record board, but my tone was steady."I'll have the money ready by three o'clock in the afternoon. Dr. Price."

As soon as Dr. Gregory left in front of me, heavy and rhythmic footsteps came from the corner of the private ward, accompanied by the crisp sound of wooden walking sticks hitting the polished marble floor.

A tall man with a suffocatingly cold aura came into view.

Instinctively, I stepped back into a shallow alcove beside a supply cart.

It was Hardin Ashley-the Supreme Alpha of the Blackwood Pack and Chairman of the multinational Ashley Corporation, the billionaire ruler who controlled the largest werewolf territory and defense network in the entire metropolitan area.

His bespoke black suit was tailored to broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and the violent dominance rolling off him made the hallway air thick.

Walking half a step beside him was an elderly woman with silver hair pinned in a neat bun. That was Constance Ashley, a high-ranking Elder of the Blackwood Pack who served as the chief advisor to the pack's board.

Constance struck the marble floor with her cane, her voice sharp with authority.

"Hardin, as a Supreme Alpha, your volatile episodes near the full moon are growing more frequent every month. Without a Luna to anchor your wolf, you will lose control and go feral sooner or later!"

Hardin reached up with one hand and tugged his silk tie loose, annoyance flashing across his gray-blue eyes.

"Grandmother, I told you already. I have no use for those scheming high-society females who only care about splitting pack assets."

Constance didn't yield an inch.

"This is the final ultimatum from the Council of Elders! Before the end of the year, you must take a legal Luna. Even if she is nothing more than a contract wife on paper, you have to shut those old fools' mouths!"

Pressed into the shadows of the alcove, I held my breath. The words contract wife hit my ears, and my heart skipped a beat.

Hardin stopped walking for a second, his deep, icy voice echoing off the hospital walls.

"Fine. As long as it buys me some peace and quiet, I'll pick an obedient female and sign a Blood Oath."

Their footsteps continued toward the private elevator bank. Only when the crushing weight of the Supreme Alpha's aura faded did I step out from behind the wall,my palms slick with cold sweat.

I had already heard that Hardin needed a quiet, trouble-free contract wife to appease his Elders.

And now I needed one million dollars to save my mother's life and secure her recovery.

Every werewolf in the city knew how ruthless Hardin was. Rumor had it he had torn rival Alphas apart with his bare hands, and walking into his territory was no different from bargaining with the devil.

But when I pictured my mother lying pale and hooked up to a ventilator in the intensive care unit, I knew I had no other choice.

I walked briskly to the central nurses' station, logged into the internal VIP terminal, and pulled up Hardin Ashley's visiting schedule.

According to the log, he would be using the top-floor VIP conference suite at two o'clock this afternoon to handle corporate files after his grandmother's checkup.

I buried my panic in three back-to-back trauma debridement surgeries that morning, letting the scalpel steady my nerves.

At 1:50 p.m., I stripped off my bloodstained scrubs, buttoned up a crisp white shirt, drew a slow breath, and walked to the private elevator.

When the steel doors slid open on the penthouse level, two massive bodyguards with the unmistakable muscle density and combat aura of Gamma-ranked warriors stepped forward, crossing their arms to block the carpet.

"Halt. The top floor is currently reserved for the Alpha's private use. Unauthorized personnel are not permitted."

I squared my shoulders and met the lead guard's gaze without blinking.

"I am Dr. Colette Davis. I have a confidential medical matter that must be reported to Mr. Ashley in person."

The Gamma guard narrowed his eyes at my hospital badge. Instead of reaching for a radio, his gaze went distant for three seconds as he projected his thoughts through the pack's Mind-Link-Alpha, a Dr. Davis is at the elevator requesting an audience regarding a confidential medical matter.

Within Packs, mental communication was always favored over phones because it was instantaneous and impossible to wiretap. A moment later, the guard blinked and lowered his arm.

"Go ahead. Last door at the end of the hall. Don't try anything foolish."

I walked down the thick sound-absorbing carpet and stopped in front of the tall mahogany double doors. My palms were damp with sweat.

I lifted my hand and knocked three times.

A low, resonant male voice cut through the heavy wood.

"Enter."

I wrapped my cold fingers around the brass handle and pushed the door open.

In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, Hardin stood with his back to me.

He held a burning cigar between two fingers, blue-white smoke curling around his broad, tailored shoulders.

At the sound of my heels clicking against the floor, he turned around slowly, his hawk-like gray-blue eyes locking onto me.

The suffocating pressure of a Supreme Alpha's aura flooded the room in an instant, thinning the air until my lungs burned just trying to pull in a breath.

I met his predatory gaze head-on and planted my feet firmly on the rug, refusing to take a single step backward.