I Reject You, Alpha

(Clara's POV)

"Are you sure you want to burn all of this? Miss Clara, these are worth at least a billion dollars!" The servant gasped.

I didn't even blink. I tossed the ruby necklace encrusted with diamonds straight into the roaring flames.

Every single piece was a gift from Damien—Alpha of the Black Moon Pack.

Three years ago, I was nothing but a worthless Omega, seconds away from being torn apart by rogues. He was the one who saved me, dragging me from their jaws and bringing me back to the pack. He gave me a second life, taught me how to fight, and even handed me the most critical management responsibilities in the entire pack.

Everyone envied my place at his side. But what they didn't know was that I wasn't just his subordinate—I was the true mate chosen for him by the Moon Goddess herself.

Because of my lowly Omega status, he'd kept putting off the mating ceremony.

I told myself it was only temporary. I told myself that if I proved my worth, he would eventually take my hand and announce to the entire Northern Territory that I was his Luna.

Until—

...

Six hours ago.

"No... Damien, we're still in your office—someone will hear us!" I gasped, heat flooding my cheeks.

But Damien’s hands have already torn open my blouse. His towering frame pins me across the desk, deep eyes blazing.

He roughs my breast, grinding his thumb against my nipple, sending a violent jolt through me.

" Fuck, you've been teasing me all day, haven't you? Your eyes didn't leave me once during that meeting." His voice is a commanding growl.

His knee forces my legs apart, hand sliding beneath my skirt to yank down my underwear.

"No..." I whispered, flustered and shy, terrified someone outside would hear.

His lips crashed against my neck, teeth grazing the skin, leaving a trail of fire. "Still saying no? Your body's already given you away, little wolf."

Slick fingers find my slick entrance, pressing devastatingly against my clit.

I try to push weakly, my face flooded with heat, but my core burns, pleasure surging through me until my walls clench involuntarily.

"Look at me, Clara. Tell me. Who do you belong to?" He grips my chin.

"You... I'm yours..." I tremble, shame swirling with excruciating need.

He laughs, drawing out wet sounds before withdrawing. Instantly, he replaces them with his thick, rigid length, aimed and ready.

Without hesitation, he thrusts forward, burying himself deep inside me.

The raw fullness is overwhelming. I clamp a hand over my mouth, reduction to whimpers as he pulls back and slams forward again.

"Fuck, so tight," Damien growls, beginning a relentless, rhythmic assault. He locks onto my waist, holding me firmly against the desk.

Pleasure builds, thick and demanding. "Don't hold back—let me hear you." He orders, accelerating, driving into my G-spot.

Shame melts under the assault of the first orgasm, liquid gushing. "Ah... Damien..." I cry out, breaking.

He doesn't stop, pushing ruthlessly deeper, angling my legs over his shoulders. Speed picks up, swelling inside me, hard thrusts hitting deeper and harder.

Under his command, I drown in ecstasy, orgasm after orgasm crashing until I'm utterly spent, collapsing against his sweat-slicked chest as the heat fades.

I lay in his arms, gazing at his profile with helpless adoration, something warm and dangerous stirring inside my chest.

In three years, no other she-wolf had ever appeared at his side. Just me.

I'd convinced myself that if I worked hard enough, earned the pack's respect, he would eventually hold a proper mating ceremony.

I swallowed, ready to tell him the news I'd nearly died to earn—that very afternoon, I had passed the Alliance certification exam for elite warriors.

It was an honor that many Gammas couldn't even achieve. And I—a wolfless Omega—had done it.

I'd finally earned the right to shed the shame of being an Omega and stand beside him as his Luna.

"Damien, there's something I want to tell you..." I tilted my face up, eyes shining with hope.

But Damien wasn't looking at me. He stood and straightened his shirt, slipped on his suit jacket. Not a single wrinkle.

"Get dressed, Clara." His voice had reverted to its usual cold composure, as if the wild, uncontrolled beast from moments ago had never existed. "You'll be attending the ceremony next week. The entire thing."

I froze, pure elation slamming through me.

Because of my status, he'd never once allowed me at any public event in three years.

I had planned eighteen major events for him—the alliance banquet with the Silver Claw Pack, the opening ceremony for the Northern Territory joint military exercises. I'd been the one behind every single one, but every time, he made me stay in the office.

Those events had elevated the Black Moon Pack's standing across the Northern Territory, yet not a single person knew how many sleepless nights I'd spent planning them.

And now he was asking me to attend. Was he finally going to announce our bond?

"You... you're serious? We're going to—"

"I'm marrying Wendy." Damien turned, looking down at me. His tone was flat. "The Red Moon Pack Alpha's daughter."

The smile froze on my face. My blood turned to ice.

"What?" I heard my own voice tremble.

"The alliance marriage is settled. Next week's ceremony will be an engagement party." He stated it like a fact—cold, clinical. "Black Moon needs access to Red Moon's Moonveil mines—the only source of the Feral Plague cure—and they need our military protection. It's a win-win."

He stepped to the mirror and adjusted his tie. "Wendy grew up pampered. She can be a bit spoiled—bear with her. I've already emailed you her dietary preferences. Plan the ceremony using the same standard as those eighteen events. And remember—don't embarrass her in front of anyone."

Don't embarrass her.

What about me?

Staring at that ruthless face, a memory flashed through my mind—three years ago, at the Moon Goddess Altar, the way he'd frowned as he marked me.

"The Moon Goddess says you're my fated mate, but your Omega status is too common. Give me three years. Once the pack is stable, I'll either make you Luna or release our mate bond."

For three years, I'd woken at four every morning to train. Knife wounds, bite marks, broken bones—I'd transformed myself from a slave's daughter who could barely walk without shaking into an Alliance-certified elite warrior.

I'd taken assassin's blades meant for him, quelled mutinies, salvaged three alliances on the verge of collapse.

The Black Moon Pack had grown from a fledgling pack that anyone could bully into one of the most powerful forces in the Northern Territory.

The planning documents from those eighteen events could fill an entire training field.

I'd thought this was the road to his heart. I never imagined it was just the red carpet I'd laid for him to welcome another woman—a highborn Alpha's daughter.

"Clara." Damien frowned. "Are you listening?"

I bit down on my lower lip until it nearly bled, forcing the tears back. My fingers crushed the crumpled elite warrior certificate in my fist, nails digging into flesh.

"Yes, Alpha."

---

"Miss Clara? But the Alpha personally chose these for you..." The servant's hesitant voice pulled me from the memory.

I looked at the last item in my hand—a silver dagger he'd given me three years ago, the day he saved my life.

I didn't hesitate. A flick of my wrist, and the dagger arced perfectly into the fire, swallowed instantly by the flames.

Three years. I was done groveling in the shadows like some dirty little secret. If he didn't want an Omega mate, then so be it.

Ten days. That was all that remained before our three-year agreement expired.