My Rival Alpha Knows I'm an Omega

The first rule of survival in my family was simple: never let anyone see weakness.

The second rule was even more important: never let anyone discover what I truly was.

For twenty-four years, I had followed both rules without failure.

To the world, I was Adrian Vale, the only Alpha heir of the Silverfang Group, a man known for being cold, decisive, and impossible to intimidate. My name appeared on financial magazines, business reports, and headlines that praised me as the future of one of the wealthiest supernatural families in the country.

None of them knew the truth.

I had not been born an Alpha.

I had been born an Omega.

In our society, Alphas inherited power. They led packs, controlled corporations, and carried family legacies on their shoulders. Betas served as advisers, managers, and diplomats. Omegas were expected to remain protected, obedient, and far away from leadership.

An Omega could be loved, married, guarded, or used, but never trusted with an empire.

My father had needed an Alpha heir to prevent his brothers from taking control of the company. My mother had needed an Alpha child to secure her place beside him. When I was born, they had looked at my secondary gender and seen disaster.

They did not abandon me.

They changed me.

Doctors were bribed. Medical records disappeared. Nurses signed agreements that ensured their silence. My official files were rewritten before I could even understand the meaning of the word Omega.

From that moment, I became the Alpha my family needed.

I learned how to control my expression before I learned how to drive. I was trained to fight, negotiate, command, and endure pain without showing it. My scent was hidden beneath blockers, my heats were controlled with suppressants, and every physical examination was handled by doctors loyal to my parents.

My entire life had been carefully constructed around one dangerous lie.

That lie had protected my inheritance.

It had also become a cage.

My assistant, Marcus, stepped into my office carrying a tablet and a leather folder. He adjusted his glasses before speaking.

“The Ashcroft delegation arrived ten minutes ago. They are already waiting in Conference Hall One.”

I looked away from the rain sliding down the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city below was covered in darkness, except for the lights glowing from towers of glass and steel.

“Did they bring their full legal team?” I asked.

“Yes. They also brought two external advisers from Helix BioTech.”

That was not surprising.

Ronan Ashcroft never entered a negotiation unprepared.

He was the only son of Victor Ashcroft, chairman of the Ashcroft Group, and the future Alpha of one of the most powerful families in the country. His company had competed against mine for years, but the rivalry between us had started long before we inherited offices, assistants, and expensive suits.

We had attended the same elite academy. We competed for the highest scores, the strongest leadership rankings, and the most prestigious awards. If I won, Ronan made sure to defeat me the next time. If he won, I spent nights studying until I could take the position back.

We had never liked each other.

Now we were fighting for something far more important than a trophy.

Helix BioTech was one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the supernatural market. Its laboratories produced scent blockers, fertility treatments, suppressants, and advanced medicines used by packs across the continent.

Silverfang Group needed the acquisition.

Our recent losses had been hidden from the public, but they were growing. If we failed to secure Helix, the company could lose investor confidence before the end of the year. My cousins were already waiting for a reason to question my leadership.

I could not give them one.

I closed the folder on my desk and stood.

“Let us begin.”

The conference room became silent when I entered.

Executives, lawyers, investors, and advisers rose from their chairs. I acknowledged them with a brief nod before moving toward my seat.

Ronan sat at the opposite end of the long black table.

He did not rise.

Instead, he leaned back comfortably, one arm resting against the chair as though the entire building belonged to him. His black suit was perfectly tailored, and his dark hair was pushed away from his forehead. His pale blue eyes followed me with the same irritating confidence I remembered from school.

“You are late,” he said.

I glanced at the clock on the wall.

“I arrived at the scheduled time.”

“You usually arrive early.”

“You usually pretend not to care.”

The corner of his mouth lifted.

A few of the executives looked down at their documents, suddenly interested in avoiding eye contact. Everyone in the room understood the hostility between the Silverfang and Ashcroft families. Most of them simply did not know how personal it had become.

I took my seat and opened the file in front of me.

The meeting began with financial projections, acquisition models, and market forecasts. I answered questions from Helix’s board without hesitation. Every number had been studied. Every weakness in Ashcroft’s offer had been identified.

For the first forty minutes, everything went according to plan.

Then a faint warmth appeared low in my abdomen.

At first, I ignored it.

The room was crowded, and the lights were bright. Stress could create strange reactions, especially after several nights without proper sleep.

I continued speaking.

“Silverfang’s proposal offers Helix access to our international distribution network without requiring a change in senior management.”

Another wave of heat moved through me.

This time, it was stronger.

My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand.

That sensation was not stress.

I knew it too well.

My heat was beginning.

The realization struck me so sharply that I nearly lost track of the conversation. My next cycle was not due for another eight days. I had taken my suppressant exactly as instructed, and my scent blockers had been replaced that morning.

This should not have been happening.

“Chairman Vale?”

I looked toward one of Helix’s directors.

He had asked a question, but I had not heard it.

I forced my attention back to the meeting.

“Please repeat that.”

He did, and I answered without allowing my voice to change.

Another wave spread through my body. My collar suddenly felt too tight, and the air in the room seemed heavier than before.

I could not stay there much longer.

Across the table, Ronan’s expression changed.

He had stopped looking at the presentation.

He was watching me.

His gaze moved slowly from my face to my hand, which was still gripping the pen too tightly. His eyes narrowed.

I looked away before he could read anything in my expression.

“The room is unusually warm,” I said.

One of the assistants reached for the temperature control.

“I can lower it.”

“That will not be necessary.” I closed my folder. “We will take a short break.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow.

“We have barely started.”

“You can survive five minutes without hearing your own voice.”

His faint smile returned, but his eyes remained sharp.

I stood and left the room before anyone could object.

The moment the doors closed behind me, I walked quickly toward the private office at the end of the corridor. Each step felt more difficult than the last. The warmth beneath my skin continued to grow, and a dangerous sweetness threatened to rise beneath the scent blocker at my neck.

I entered the office and locked the door.

My hands were beginning to tremble.

I placed my briefcase on the desk and opened it. Contracts, financial reports, and a spare phone lay inside, but the small silver injector case was missing.

I searched again.

Then I emptied the entire briefcase onto the desk.

There was no suppressant.

I stared at the scattered papers, trying to control my breathing.

I had placed the injector inside the case that morning. I remembered checking it before leaving home. Someone must have removed it after I arrived at the office.

Without the suppressant, the heat would continue to intensify. Within minutes, my scent blockers might fail. If an Alpha entered the room and detected my pheromones, my secret would be impossible to hide.

My career would be over.

My family would lose control of the company.

Everything my parents had sacrificed would collapse in one night.

A knock sounded at the door.

I froze.

Three slow, deliberate knocks followed.

“Who is it?” I asked.

There was a brief silence.

Then Ronan spoke from the other side.

“Open the door.”

My stomach tightened.

“I am busy.”

“I noticed.”

“What do you want?”

His answer came after several seconds.

“I think you are looking for something.”

I stopped breathing.

The handle moved once, but the door remained locked.

I stepped away from the desk.

“Leave, Ronan.”

Instead of responding, he pushed something beneath the door.

A small silver injector case slid across the floor and stopped near my shoe.

My suppressant.

I stared at it, unable to move.

Ronan’s voice became quieter.

“I believe that belongs to you.”

The heat beneath my skin continued to rise as I looked from the injector to the locked door.

There was only one question in my mind.

How much had he already discovered?