Rejected, My Ex's Brother-in-Law Claims Me

Alessandra POV

The paper trembled in my hands, the crinkle of the medical sheet sounding like thunder in the silent, oppressive luxury of the Alpha's suite.

Positive. Five weeks.

I pressed a hand to my flat stomach, a wave of nausea rolling through me that had nothing to do with the morning sickness Adan, our Pack Healer, had just diagnosed. An heir. I was carrying the Stonecrest Pack's future Alpha.

For two years, I had been Demetri Hamilton's wife in name, his secret shame in public, and his dutiful bedwarmer in private. A marriage orchestrated by his dying father, a bond he resented with every fiber of his being. But this... this pup could change everything. It was the blessing of the Moon Goddess, proof that our frayed, neglected mate bond was real.

The bathroom door opened, steam billowing out, carrying the scent of rain-soaked pine and ozone-him.

Demetri walked out, a towel low on his hips, water droplets clinging to the hard planes of his chest. He was breathtaking, a lethal predator carved from marble, and my wolf purred instantly, pathetic in her adoration.

Demetri, I started, my voice trembling. I stepped forward, the paper burning against my palm. "I need to tell you-"

He froze. His eyes, usually a stormy grey, glazed over. Mind-link.

The air around him grew heavy, the static of a powerful Alpha erecting a mental wall. I was shut out. Again. I watched his jaw tighten, a flicker of urgency crossing his stoic face. The link cut, and he was moving before I could blink, shedding the towel and grabbing his clothes.

I have to go, he stated, his voice devoid of emotion.

Now? I glanced at the clock. "It's midnight. Demetri, please. Tomorrow is my grandmother's birthday. You promised you might-"

Something came up, he interrupted, buttoning his shirt with sharp, precise movements. He didn't look at me. He never really looked at me. "Go to sleep, Alessandra. Do not wait up."

It wasn't a request. The command in his tone, the subtle weight of his Alpha authority, forced my wolf to lower her head in submission. I stood frozen by the bed, the pregnancy report crunched in my fist, watching my husband walk out the door without a backward glance.

Sleep was a ghost that refused to haunt me.

Two hours later, I sat in the dark, the cold light of my phone illuminating the tears drying on my cheeks. The notification had popped up moments ago.

FASHION ICON ISADORA PACHECO RETURNS WITH MYSTERY BILLIONAIRE.

My thumb hovered over the screen, shaking. I tapped the article. The photo was grainy, taken outside the private airport terminal, but I would know that silhouette anywhere. The broad shoulders, the commanding stance that screamed power.

Demetri.

He hadn't left for pack business. He had left to pick her up. The woman he had loved before duty shackled him to me.

A desperate, stupid hope flared in my chest. Maybe it's not what it looks like. I closed my eyes, reaching for the thin, frayed thread of the mate bond that connected us. Usually, he kept it blocked, a dead line. But tonight, in his distraction, it was open.

I pushed a sliver of my consciousness toward him, seeking reassurance, seeking him.

Connect.

The link snapped into place. But instead of Demetri's cool, pine-scented presence, I was slammed with a wall of cloying, sugary emotion. Triumph. Smugness. Possessiveness.

It wasn't Demetri's emotion. It was hers, bleeding through him, radiating from her proximity to him. It tasted like cheap perfume and poison.

Mine, the foreign emotion seemed to hiss.

I gasped, severing the link as bile rose in my throat. I scrambled off the bed, rushing to the ensuite. I fell to my knees before the black marble toilet, emptying my stomach until my throat burned. My wolf howled in agony, curling into a ball in the back of my mind. Our mate was with another. The pup inside me swirled with restless anxiety, sensing its mother's heartbreak.

The next morning, the sun rose over Stonecrest like a mockery.

I dressed in my usual grey office attire, masking the dark circles under my eyes with concealer. I was the Alpha's assistant first, his wife second, and his mate... never.

I walked down the corridor toward his office, the Healer's report folded into a tiny square in my palm. I had to tell him. Even if he didn't love me, he would love his heir. He had to.

The heavy mahogany door was ajar. Voices drifted out.

...your pheromones are chaotic, Alpha, Adan's voice was low, concerned. "You reek of conflict... and her."

I stopped, my hand hovering over the wood.

Isadora needed me, Demetri's voice was smooth, unbothered. "She's staying at the Pack House."

And Alessandra? Adan asked. "She's your mate, Demetri. The bond-"

The bond is a shackle, Demetri scoffed. The sound of glass clinking against a desk followed. "She is a duty I fulfill. Nothing more."

She looks pale lately, Adan pressed, his tone shifting to something softer, almost protective. "She's fragile."

A cruel chuckle vibrated through the air, freezing the blood in my veins.

You seem to care for her more than I do, Demetri said, his voice dripping with icy indifference. "Do you want me to give her to you, Adan? Take her. She's of no use to me."

The world tilted. The air left my lungs.

I looked down at the crumpled paper in my hand-the proof of the life we had created. Give her to you. I wasn't his mate. I was a piece of furniture he was tired of looking at.

I didn't barge in. I didn't scream. I simply stood there, the paper cutting into my palm, as the last ember of hope in my chest turned to ash.

Alessandra POV

I pushed the heavy mahogany door open, my knuckles white around the crumpled medical report. The air inside the office hit me like a physical blow-not the comforting, crisp scent of rain and pine I craved, but a cloying, suffocating stench of vanilla and synthetic roses.

Isadora.

She was all over him.

Demetri sat behind his desk, looking immaculate in a fresh suit, but the scent of another woman clung to his skin like a second layer. He didn't even look up as I placed the stack of pack financial reports on his desk. My hand trembled, the paper edge brushing against the polished wood.

Your scent is a mess, Alpha, Adan said, his voice tight with disapproval. He stood by the window, arms crossed. "You reek of conflict... and her."

Demetri finally looked up, his storm-grey eyes flat and unyielding. He ignored me completely, his gaze locking on the Healer. "Watch your tone, Adan. My private life is not up for debate."

It is when it affects the Pack's stability, Adan countered, his eyes flickering to me with pity. That pity was worse than Demetri's indifference. It made me feel small. Pathetic.

Leave us, Demetri commanded, waving a hand dismissively in my direction.

I felt my wolf whimper, bowing her head to the Alpha's order despite my breaking heart. I turned and walked out, the silence in the room deafening. The elevator ride down was a blur of tears and the phantom smell of cheap perfume that seemed to have permanently stained my mate.

By lunch, the nausea had returned with a vengeance. I retreated to the Pack House communal kitchen, hoping for a quiet glass of water to settle the rolling in my stomach. The room was buzzing with whispers, eyes darting my way before snapping back to hushed conversations.

Some Omegas just don't know their place, a shrill voice cut through the noise.

Chrissy Sweeney leaned against the counter, flanked by two other pack members. She smirked, her eyes raking over my simple grey dress. "Do you really think our Alpha would ever look at you when a true high-born she-wolf like Isadora is back?"

I gripped my glass, my knuckles turning white. "Move, Chrissy."

Make me, she sneered. Before I could react, she snatched a steaming mug of coffee from the counter and jerked her wrist.

Oops.

The dark liquid splashed across my forearm. Searing heat tore through my skin, blistering instantly. I gasped, dropping my water glass. It shattered, shards exploding across the tile.

My pup. The fear wasn't for me; it was a primal, violent terror for the life inside me. The stress, the pain-it was too much.

You're nothing but a packless runt! Chrissy laughed, stepping closer. "An orphan nobody wants!"

Something inside me snapped. It wasn't my weak Omega wolf; it was the mother. My hand moved before I registered the thought.

Crack.

The slap echoed through the kitchen, silencing the room. Chrissy stumbled back, clutching her cheek, shock written all over her face. I grabbed her wrist, twisting it until she cried out.

She attacked me! Chrissy shrieked, playing the victim instantly. "The Alpha's little Omega whore attacked me!"

Enough!

The command rolled over us like thunder, vibrating in my bones. The air grew heavy, charged with static. Demetri stood in the doorway, his presence filling the room. Everyone froze.

He stalked forward, his eyes cold as they swept over the shattered glass and my red, blistering arm. But his gaze didn't soften. He looked at me like I was a unruly child.

Pack Law forbids wolves from raising a hand against one another, Demetri stated, his voice devoid of warmth. "Did you attack her, Alessandra?"

He didn't ask what she did. He didn't ask if I was hurt. He only saw my defiance.

I released Chrissy's wrist, standing tall despite the trembling in my legs. "As a member of this Pack, I apologize to her," I said, my voice shaking but clear. I looked him dead in the eye. "But as a woman, I do not."

I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving the Alpha and his judgment behind.

Demetri POV

The kitchen was silent as Alessandra disappeared into the hallway. The scent of her distress-burnt skin and salt tears-lingered, souring the air. It irritated my wolf, scratching at the back of my mind.

Chrissy was still whimpering, holding her cheek, a smug look creeping into her eyes as she looked up at me. "Thank you, Alpha. She's out of control. She-"

I moved faster than she could blink. I slammed my hand against the counter beside her head, leaning in until my nose brushed her ear.

You will forget this happened, I snarled, letting the full weight of my Alpha aura crush her. Her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor, terror replacing her smugness. "You will never speak to her, look at her, or breathe in her direction again. She is MINE to deal with."

My wolf paced aggressively, demanding blood for the scent of burnt flesh on my mate. I shoved the instinct down.

Touch her again, I whispered, my voice dropping to a lethal octave, "and I will rip your throat out."

I straightened, adjusting my cuffs, and looked at Kael, my Gamma, who had been watching silently.

Get this trash out of my sight.

Alessandra POV

The evening air was cool, but my arm throbbed with a steady, burning rhythm. I stood outside the Pack Clinic, waiting for the shuttle to take me to my grandmother's cottage. I couldn't stay in the Pack House tonight. I couldn't breathe the same air as him.

Gravel crunched. A sleek black Bentley rolled into the lot.

My heart gave a traitorous leap. Demetri. Had he come to check on me? Had Adan told him about the burn?

The driver's door opened. Demetri stepped out, looking devastatingly handsome in the dying light. He walked around the car, but his eyes didn't scan for me. He opened the passenger door.

Isadora Pacheco sat there, looking pale and fragile.

Demetri leaned in, unbuckling her seatbelt with a gentleness I had never known. He scooped her into his arms, holding her against his chest as if she were made of glass.

I've got you, I heard him murmur, his voice low and tender. "I'm here."

He carried her past me toward the clinic entrance. He didn't even see me standing in the shadows, clutching my burnt arm, carrying his heir.

The last ember of hope in my chest didn't just turn to ash; it froze. I watched them disappear inside, the image searing itself into my memory more painfully than the coffee on my skin.

I turned away, walking into the darkening woods. I didn't need a shuttle. I needed to be gone.

Alessandra POV

The silence in my head was the first mercy I had felt in months. Sitting on the rotting wood of my grandmother's porch, I stared into the dense treeline, the night air cooling the feverish heat radiating from my burnt arm. I had severed the Mind-Link. Just snapped it shut. For an Omega to block her Alpha was unheard of; for a mate to do it was a declaration of war.

But I didn't care. The image of him carrying Isadora-holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world-had cauterized the part of me that used to bleed for him.

A twig snapped. The shadows at the edge of the clearing shifted, coalescing into a towering figure that seemed to suck the light from the moon.

Demetri.

He didn't approach with the grace of a lover. He stalked toward the porch like a predator cornering prey. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and suppressed violence. His Alpha aura slammed into me, demanding submission, but I was too hollow to bow.

You blocked me, Demetri snarled, stopping at the foot of the stairs. His eyes were two chips of obsidian, devoid of warmth. "I have been calling for hours. Do you have a death wish, Alessandra?"

I didn't stand. I didn't tremble. I just looked at him, feeling a strange, detached exhaustion. "I needed some quiet."

His jaw ticked. "Quiet? You are the Luna of this Pack-in title, if not in competence. You do not shut me out. Ever."

Luna, I repeated, the word tasting like ash. "Is that what I am? Or am I just the placeholder you tolerate until you figure out how to install her?"

Demetri mounted the steps, the wood groaning under his weight. He loomed over me, blocking out the stars. "Do not test my patience tonight. Get up. We are going back to the Pack House."

No.

The word hung in the air, fragile but absolute. Demetri froze, looking at me as if the floorboards had spoken.

I stood up then, my legs shaking not from fear, but from the sickness rattling in my chest. I took a breath, the night air searing my lungs, and looked him dead in the eye.

I'm done, Demetri. I can't be your punching bag anymore. I can't watch you love her while I rot in your shadow. My voice gained strength, fueled by the broken shards of my heart. "I, Alessandra Moon, want to reject you as my mate."

The silence that followed was terrifying. The forest seemed to hold its breath.

Demetri's face didn't crumble. It hardened into stone. A cruel, cold smile twisted his lips, terrifying in its lack of humor. He stepped into my personal space, forcing me to tilt my head back.

You think you have a choice? His voice was a low rumble, vibrating through my chest. "You think this is a fairy tale where you get to walk away? Your father sold your freedom for the safety of this Pack. You are my mate. You will do your duty until I say otherwise."

My duty? I whispered, tears pricking my eyes despite my resolve. "To be humiliated?"

To be obedient! he roared, his control slipping. "Is this about that pathetic scene with Chrissy? I dealt with her. Stop acting like a petulant child."

He reached out, his hand clamping around my uninjured upper arm. The moment his skin touched mine, the spark-that cursed, electric jolt of the Mate Bond-arced between us. But instead of pleasure, it felt like a brand.

Demetri frowned, his grip tightening not in anger, but in confusion. He pulled me closer, his eyes narrowing as he scanned my face. "You're burning up."

I tried to pull away, dizziness swaying the world. "Let me go."

You have a fever, he stated, his tone shifting from accuser to Alpha commander. He ignored my resistance, his hand moving to my forehead. "You're shaking. Why didn't you say you were sick?"

It doesn't matter, I rasped, panic beginning to claw at my throat. "Leave me alone."

We are going to the clinic, Demetri decided, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Adan needs to look at that burn and this fever."

The Clinic. Adan.

Ice flooded my veins, instantly overpowering the fever. Adan was the best Healer in the territory. If he examined me, if he ran even a basic scan of my vitals, he would hear the second heartbeat. He would find the pup.

And if Demetri knew... if he knew I was carrying his heir while he pined for Isadora... he would take the baby. He would lock me away or, worse, hand my child to Isadora to raise.

No! The scream tore from my throat, primal and terrified.

Demetri moved to scoop me up, but I exploded into motion. I wasn't fighting as Alessandra the weak Omega; I was fighting as a mother. I clawed at his chest, my nails digging into his expensive shirt. I kicked out, my heel connecting with his shin.

Put me down! I shrieked, thrashing in his arms like a wild animal. "I'm not going to the clinic! I won't go!"

Stop this madness! Demetri grunted, tightening his hold to keep me from falling. He looked genuinely shocked by my violence. "You are ill, Alessandra! Stop fighting me!"

I won't let you take me there! I sobbed, hitting his shoulder, desperation making me delirious. "Let me go!"

Enough! Demetri growled, his patience snapping. He didn't see the fear; he only saw defiance. He saw an Omega challenging her Alpha.

He clamped my arms to my sides, crushing me against his chest with unbreakable strength. He marched toward his black Bentley parked on the gravel road, ignoring my pleas.

You are going, he snarled, wrenching the passenger door open. "And you will learn to stop fighting the hand that protects you."

He shoved me into the leather seat, unaware that the only thing I needed protection from was him.