4: Alpha Blake’s Fury: I Reject You, Julian Carter, as My Mate!

∆ALPHA BLAKE’s POV∆

I stood by the window, swirling the liquor in my glass. The whole room smelled so fucking disgusting that it made my skin crawl.

Behind me, the bedsheets rustled. Damien, my younger brother, was an arrogant bastard who enjoyed tormenting Omegas he considered beneath him. He pulled a couple of dry tissues from the nightstand and wiped his hands with a satisfied grin.

A thin, mute Omega boy lay motionless on the mattress, his pale body covered in bruises, completely exhausted and still coated in drying trails of Damien’s cum.

I glanced at Damien with open disapproval.

“Get yourself cleaned up before you return home,” I warned him. “I don't want you bringing the filth of this place home.”

Damien laughed and tossed the used tissues into the small bin beside the bed.

“You're always so particular about that,” he rolled his eyes.

“I'm serious,” I replied coldly. “Don't let those filthy things soil your hands, and don't bring their filth to our doorstep."

“Whatever. Lecture me when I’m done here, but I’m already disappointed,” Damien complained, glancing toward the unconscious Omega. “Having a mute boy is useless. It’s no fun when they can’t even make a sound while you’re enjoying yourself.”

He poured himself another glass, walked over to the armchair, and slumped into it with his legs kicked out. He raised his glass toward me, his eyes full of that annoying, arrogant smirk.

The servants dragged the unconscious, mute Omega out of the room so the next one could be brought in.

“You've been standing there like a damn statue all night, Blake. We own this entire place, but you haven't touched a single servant. Come on, pick one. Nobody's going to tell Lila.” Damien winked at me.

I took a slow sip, letting the bitter alcohol burn down my throat.

“I don't touch trash.”

Damien's grin widened listening to those words coming out of me.

To put it plainly, these Omegas were passed around from guest to guest every single night. They were dirty, broken, and completely used up. I am the Alpha of the Frost Pack. My standard is absolute. The ones who are worthy of being fucked by me has to be pure and high status. I only fuck virgins, and I certainly don't lower myself to taking second-hand scraps.

I set my glass down.

“I only want virgins. I certainly won't lower myself to taking second-hand scraps.”

“Fine, fine, you've been watching me fuck other.” Damien teased, throwing his head back against the cushion. “I was just worried you'd be mesmerized by how hot I look when I'm coming, you know, a taboo dynamic like this is enough to get us hauled before the royal court.”

"Shut up, Damien," I grunted, looking out at the dark trees. "I don't like men."

Damien chuckled, swirling his glass, "Everyone knows your eyes are locked on Lila. You've already decided to make her your Luna, haven't you?"

I didn't turn around. Lila was the daughter of my father's top Beta. She was highly educated, beautiful, and knew how to carry herself in front of high-ranking Alphas.

"She is the right choice," I said.

"Because she's useful to your title?" Damien asked, leaning forward slightly. "Or because you actually give a damn about her?"

I looked over my shoulder, my jaw tight.

"An Alpha doesn't make major choices based on pathetic feelings, Damien. A real Luna needs a strong bloodline, proper training, and a clean reputation. Lila has all three. She obeys orders, her body is untouched, and her father controls half our northern guards. Nobody in this territory comes close to her."

"Fair enough," Damien agreed, setting his empty glass down on the table. He turned toward the doors and barked, "Where is the next servant? What is taking those idiots so long?"

The doors swung open.

A servant woman scampered out of the way, leaving a young man standing in the doorway. He was leaning heavily against the frame, struggling to keep his left foot completely off the floor. His shirt was ripped to shreds, soaked in fresh blood, and his left knee was swollen at a sickening, twisted angle where the bone had snapped.

Yet despite the filth, the dried blood matted in his hair, and the dark bruises painting his pale skin, there was something dangerously captivating about him. His high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and fiery amber eyes gave him a raw, striking beauty that couldn't be buried under dirt or torture.

Damien chuckled, resting his chin on his palm, his eyes lighting up with sadistic interest. "Well, look at that. He's actually got a pretty face."

I glanced over, ready to order them both out of my sight. But the second the air from the hallway drifted into the suite, a suffocating scent slammed straight into my chest.

It was the smell of flowers, fresh lime, and sweet, ripe berries. It rushed up my nose and flooded my lungs so fast that my fingers jerked, almost dropping my glass.

Inside my mind, Drax woke up with a roaring crash that rattled my skull.

'MATE!' Drax screamed, thrashing against my ribcage like a trapped animal. 'Blake, move your ass! Go get him! That's our mate!'

My whole body reacted before my mind could stop it. Every instinct in me screamed to cross the room and touch him. I hated that reaction almost as much as I hated the boy standing in front of me.

The glass froze inches from my lips.

I stared straight at the servant in the doorway. Dirt was smeared across his sharp jaw, dried blood mixed with his hair, and his left leg was clearly snapped in half. He was just a low-life male slave from the basement dungeons, a boy who had probably been dragged through every bed in this club.

A sickening feeling of disgust and rage twisted my stomach into a knot.

Of all the cruel jokes fate could have played on me, this had to be the worst. How could Moon Goddess link the Alpha of the Frost Pack to a filthy, ruined male slave? A pathetic cripple who couldn't even stand up straight on his own two feet?

This was a humiliation. A total disgrace to my name.

"Damien," I said, my voice dropping into a low, murderous growl. "Get out."

Damien blinked, his smirk disappearing. "What? Brother, don't tell me you want this one. I called for him first."

"I said GET OUT!"

My Alpha voice exploded through the room, slamming into the walls like a thunderclap. The force of my Alpha command hit Damien so hard that he gasped, his face turning ghostly white as he stumbled backward out of his chair.

"This filthy servant..." I spat through my teeth, my knuckles turning white as I squeezed my fists, "...is supposed to be my fated mate."

Damien's jaw dropped in total shock. "Your mate? That male slave?"

"If you don't get out of this room right this second, I will snap your neck and throw you off this balcony," I snarled, letting my heavy, suffocating aura crush down on his shoulders.

Damien didn't say another word. He grabbed his coat in a panic, squeezed past the limp boy at the door, and slammed the doors shut behind him.

Inside my head, Drax was losing his mind, screaming in agony as his spirit clawed at my chest.

'What the hell are you doing?!' Drax wept, his wolf voice cracking with desperate sorrow. 'Go to him! Touch him, Blake! Look at his leg! He's in so much pain! He's bleeding!'

'Shut your mouth, Drax,' I snapped in my mind, building a thick wall of force to lock him down.

'No!' Drax howled, his voice breaking into a gut-wrenching cry. 'I don't care about his clothes! I don't care that he's a servant! He belongs to us! He is our mate, our soul, Blake! Don't do this to him!'

'I will never take a dirty male slave as my Luna,' I growled back, slamming the mental door shut with full force, trapping Drax in the dark until his screams dissolved into pathetic, muffled whimpers. 'He is worthless to me. He is ruined, useless trash.'

I took three slow steps forward, stopping right in front of the servant.

His broken left leg was shaking violently, tiny drops of cold sweat trailing down his pale neck, but his head didn't drop. He didn't bow. He didn't avert his eyes. He just stood there, leaning against the wall, staring right back into my face with his amber eyes that were ice-cold and completely empty of fear.

There was no submission in him. No urge to drop to his knees and beg an Alpha for mercy. Just a cold, quiet defiance that made my blood boil with hatred.

Did he really think I was going to wrap him in blankets, kiss his bruises, and place him beside me just because some magical bond pulled us together?

"What is your name?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the quiet room.

"Julian," he rasped out. His voice was rough, dry, and full of blood, but he didn't stumble over the word. "Julian Carter."

"Your name is as worthless as the dirt on your face," I sneered, looking down at his ripped, blood-stained pants and his twisted knee. "If you think for one second that I am going to drag a male slave into my house and put a Luna's ring on your finger, you are out of your damn mind."

I stepped even closer, towering right over him, letting the full weight of my Alpha pressure crush the air out of the space between us. I wanted to see his defiance disappear. I wanted to see him break, cry out, and drop to the floor like the pitiful, broken thing he was.

"You are a cripple," I spat, leaning down so my breath hit his ear, pouring every drop of bitterness and venom I had into his face. "You bring zero value to the Frost Pack. You are a disgusting mistake, and you mean absolutely nothing to me."

I stared straight into his eyes, making sure he felt the full, crushing weight of my words tearing through his heart.

"I, Blake Thome, Alpha of the Frost Pack, reject you, Julian Carter, as my fated mate and future Luna."