The Unwanted Omega: The Alpha's Late Regret

For five years, I was a ghost in the Spencer Pack, a placeholder wife for an Alpha who couldn't stand the sight of me. I endured the neglect, believing my loyalty would eventually win him over.

But at the Moon Ball, when his mistress mocked my disabled mother and I finally stood up for myself, Easton didn't defend me. Instead, he used his Alpha Command to force me to my knees in front of the entire pack.

"Submit," he growled, stripping away my dignity.

The humiliation didn't end there. He forced me to chauffeur him and his mistress to their romantic getaway. He watched silently as they fed me raw meat like a feral dog. And when his mistress framed me for stealing the Luna necklace, he didn't check the cameras. He looked at me with pure disgust and threw me into the silver cells.

He didn't know I was the "Ghost Designer" behind his company's massive success. He didn't know I had lost our child alone on the bathroom floor three years ago while he was on vacation with her. He only saw a wolfless Omega he could use and discard.

Standing in that cold cell, the love I held for him finally turned to ash. I realized I wasn't waiting for him to love me; I was waiting for permission to leave.

I looked at the man who promised to protect me and spoke the words that would destroy him.

"I, Brooke Rollins, reject you, Easton Spencer."

As he clutched his chest in agony, the bond snapping like a whip, I walked out of the cell and into the arms of the rival Alpha who saw my true worth.

Chapter 1

Brooke POV:

I stared at the document on the mahogany desk. "Dissolution of Marriage Contract." The bold, serif font seemed to mock me. For five years, I had been a ghost in the Spencer Pack, a placeholder wife for an Alpha who couldn't stand the sight of me.

I wasn't a Luna. I was a line item in a ledger.

I smoothed the fabric of my dress- a thrift store find that I'd prayed would pass for vintage -trying to blend into the shadows of the ballroom. Tonight was the Moon Ball. The air was thick with old money, roasted venison, and the heavy, musk-like pheromones of wolves posturing for rank.

"Look who crawled out of the kitchen," a voice sneered behind me.

I didn't need to turn around. Kelly Holland. She smelled like crushed roses and chemical warfare. Kelly was a Beta, but she walked around with the entitlement of a Queen.

"Leave me alone, Kelly," I said, keeping my voice low. As an Omega, my biology screamed at me to bare my neck, but my human pride held my chin up.

Kelly stepped closer, swirling a glass of red wine. "You look like the help, Brooke. But then again, that's all you are. Wolfless trash keeping the bed warm until Easton comes to his senses."