The Rejected Omega Is Actually The White Wolf

I jumped into the freezing Hudson River. Not to kill myself, but to save the only thing I had left—my father's Medal of Valor, which Krystal had thrown into the water like a stick for a dog.

I clawed my way up the muddy bank, lungs burning, shivering violently. I looked up at the villa balcony, hoping my Fated Mate, Jaxon, would be looking for me.

He wasn't.

He was wrapping his arms around Krystal, watching the artificial meteor shower he had arranged just for her.

"Anything for you, my love," he said, completely forgetting I was drowning in the dark below.

For three years, I believed I had "Wolf Sickness." I took the pills he sent, grateful for his care.

But the pills were poison. Wolfsbane. Designed to keep me weak, docile, and unable to shift, just so he could replace me with a more powerful Luna.

He called me a liability. He watched his mistress run me over with her Porsche, ordered his guards to silence me, and let her dogs tear my skin.

Now, clutching the cold medal, the final thread of our bond snapped.

I didn't go back to the pack house. I dragged my broken body to the airport and sent one final text.

"I, Alina Phillips, reject you, Jaxon Francis."

I mailed him the medical report proving he had been poisoning his own mate, and then I disappeared.

By the time he realizes what he's done, the Alina he knew will be dead.

Chapter 1

Alina POV:

The air in the Swiss Alps was crisp, clean, and suffocating.

For three years, this "Healer Sanctuary" had been my prison. A golden cage built of snow and invoices paid by the Blood Moon Pack.

I looked down at the letter in my hand-acceptance to the Royal Academy of Arts in Paris. The paper was crumpled from how hard I was gripping it. I had to leave. Today.

I walked to the reception desk, heart hammering against my ribs. My inner wolf, usually dormant and sluggish, stirred with a strange, prickly anxiety.

"I need my medical records," I told the receptionist, a young Beta smelling of lavender and antiseptic. "I'm transferring."

She blinked. "Transferring? But Miss Phillips, Dr. Klein said your treatment for Wolf Sickness requires strict isolation. Your spirit is unstable."

"Just give me the file." I tried to inject authority into my voice. As an Omega, it didn't come naturally.

She sighed, pulling a thick folder from the cabinet. As she handed it over, a loose paper fluttered to the floor. I snatched it up before she could react.

It was a lab report from a year ago.

Patient: Alina Phillips.

Diagnosis: Wolf Spirit Stable.

Medication: High-dosage Wolfsbane-based Suppressants (labeled as Vitamin B complex).

Notes: Orders per Alpha Jaxon Francis. Maintain sedation. Patient must remain unaware of recovery.

The floor seemed to drop out from under me.

I wasn't sick. I hadn't been for a year.

The "vitamins" were poison. Designed to keep my wolf