My Alpha Called Me Omega Until the Lycan Claimed Me

The perfume made my skin crawl.

I stood outside the Alpha's bedroom door, my fingers trembling as they hovered over the polished wood. Inside, I could hear him—low growls that vibrated through the walls, the crash of something heavy hitting the floor. My wolf should have stirred at the sound of an Alpha in distress. Should have whimpered or pressed against my consciousness, urging me to help.

But I had no wolf. Just silence where there should have been another voice.

"Miss Bishop." The pack healer, Dr. Ramos, appeared beside me with a crystal bottle. The liquid inside gleamed amber in the hallway's dim light. "You'll need to reapply. He's worse tonight."

I took the bottle, my stomach turning at the cloying floral scent that escaped when I uncapped it. Jasmine. Rose. Something sweet and artificial that made my eyes water. Bella's signature perfume, recreated by the pack's chemist from old belongings she'd left behind.

Bella Powell. Xander's true mate. Dead for three years.

Except I was the one wearing her scent now.

"How much longer?" I whispered, dabbing the perfume onto my wrists, my throat, behind my ears. The same places Xander would bury his face during these episodes.

"Until dawn, if you're lucky." Dr. Ramos's expression was carefully neutral. He'd never approved of this arrangement, but he wasn't about to challenge an Alpha's decision. "The full moon always hits him hardest."

Another crash from inside. A roar that made the door rattle.

I closed my eyes, thought of Cal in the infirmary three floors down. Cal with his pale face and hollow eyes, hooked up to machines that beeped steadily through the night. Cal, who was dying because I couldn't afford the elite Healers who might actually save him.

This was the price. Three years of my dignity for three years of treatment.

I pushed open the door.

The Alpha's suite was chaos. Shattered glass glittered across the marble floor. Deep claw marks gouged the walls. And in the center of it all stood Xander Blackwood, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing that terrible gold that meant his wolf was too close to the surface.

He was magnificent and terrifying—all raw power barely contained in human skin. His shirt hung in tatters. Muscles coiled tight beneath tanned skin. When his gaze locked onto me, something primal shot through my chest. A pull I didn't understand. A yearning that made no sense.

I was nothing to him. Just a tool.

"Alpha." I kept my voice soft, submissive. Stepped carefully over the broken glass. "I'm here."

He moved so fast I barely saw it. One moment he was across the room, the next he had me pinned to the bed, his weight pressing me into silk sheets that cost more than everything I owned. His face buried in the curve of my neck, inhaling deeply.

"Bella," he breathed against my skin. "Bella, Bella, Bella."

Each repetition was a knife between my ribs.

His body shuddered, the tremors gradually slowing as