The Omega He Never Chose : The Cursed Alpha’s Surrogate

“Help!” Elara screamed inwardly as she forced her legs to keep moving.

Her breathing was ragged, her throat felt like it was on fire, and her stomach twisted with agonizing cramps. Barefoot and bleeding, she pushed through the thorny undergrowth, sharp branches scraping across her arms as she plunged deeper into the darkness of the forest. Several times, she stumbled over exposed roots and nearly fell, but the instinct to survive forced her back onto her feet every time.

Water. I need to find a water source, her mind urged. She had to mask her scent if she wanted to escape the monsters hunting her.

“Keep running, little Omega! You’ll never get far!” one of the rogues shouted, his voice echoing ominously between the trees. “Run until you’re exhausted, so we won’t have to work too hard when we take you!”

Elara bit down hard on her lower lip until the salty taste of blood filled her mouth. Fear coiled tightly in her stomach, but disgust and fury overwhelmed it.

This was all Jonathan’s fault.

Jonathan Sterling… You bastard! Elara cursed inwardly, seething with rage.

If the future Alpha hadn’t ordered a manhunt for her, none of this would have happened. After deciding to leave Redlake, Elara had intended to hide in an unclaimed territory and work quietly as an ordinary servant. But one night, wanted posters bearing her name were plastered everywhere.

Elara Moon—the granddaughter of Magnus Calloway, the renowned healer—had been accused of poisoning several Betas and Omegas and attacking her own pack. Jonathan had even offered a staggering reward: two hundred gold coins to anyone who brought her back alive. It was enough money to keep an entire family living in luxury for three years.

But the three rogues chasing her now clearly had something other than simply turning her in on their minds.

They intended to violate her first.

“Come on, sweetheart! Stop running!” another rogue called out. “Why keep running? Whether it’s us or your own pack, you’ll be treated the same way. Trust me, we’ll be much gentler if you cooperate!”

You think I’m going to believe that? Elara sneered inwardly as she pushed her legs harder.

I’d rather be killed by another pack than die dishonored as the plaything of your lust!

Elara’s thoughts were dragged back to that sickening night.

The night Jonathan had crept into her servant’s quarters...

“Be my mistress, El. I promise you’ll have everything Hera has—and more,” Jonathan coaxed that night, shameless and utterly without remorse. “Hera may have secured her position as my wife, and she’ll become Luna when I ascend as Alpha. But she’ll never have my heart. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“If you really love me, then why did you claim her as your mate?” Elara asked, her chest tightening painfully. She already knew what his answer would be, yet she needed to hear it from his own lips. Hadn’t Jonathan once promised that she would be the only woman in his life?

“Hera has what I need, El. Her father is an Alpha, and she has an army behind her. I need all of that to defeat Gareth Grimshaw!”

“El, please. Think rationally. I’m the only one who can protect you. Just say yes, and I’ll take you to the castle. You have nothing to worry about. Hera will welcome you with open arms. I told her about you from the very beginning, and she understands.”

But Elara was not Hera. She would never accept sharing the man she loved, let alone agree to become his second choice.

Elara stared at Jonathan in disbelief. “I will never be your mistress, Jonathan. Not now, not ever,” she replied, her voice strangled with emotion. “I’d rather die alone than become anyone’s second woman!”

Her rejection sent Jonathan over the edge. He seized Elara roughly by the chin.

“Watch your mouth, Ela! You think living alone is some kind of wonderful life? Who are you, anyway? You’re nothing but an orphan and a wolf-less Omega! Without my protection, you’re nobody. You’d probably already be a homeless beggar—or some cheap bar whore at the Crowne!”

SLAP!

Elara slapped him across the face with all the strength she had.

A whore? If she had wanted to, she could have given herself to Jonathan long ago. But even now, Elara had guarded her virtue, saving herself for a sacred marriage.

“Enjoy your marriage to that Alpha’s daughter, Jonathan! And never bother me again!”

“You’ll regret this, Ela. Without my protection, you’re nobody!”

Jonathan’s threat proved true less than twenty-four hours later.

When Elara returned to work at the castle, the other servants conspired to torment her. They ruined the laundry she had washed, deliberately dirtied the floors she had just cleaned, and Hera—Jonathan’s wife—joined in by spreading lies about her until the Betas and Gammas felt no hesitation about harassing and humiliating her.

Slash!

Her memories shattered when a hard stone hurled from behind struck the back of her head.

“Argh!”

Elara lost her balance and crashed to the ground, her knees hitting the red earth first. The rogues cheered, delighted that their prey had finally fallen.

“Don’t come any closer!” Elara shouted quickly.

With trembling fingers, she drew the silver dagger strapped to her thigh and held it out in front of her.

The three rogues only laughed mockingly.

“You think that little thing can scare us?” one of them sneered. “Come on, sweetheart. Why make this difficult? Just serve us, and afterward—”

CRASH!

One of the rogues cried out when the tip of Elara’s dagger sliced across the hand he had reached toward her shoulder.

“You slut!”

The wounded rogue slapped Elara across the face with such force that she was thrown sideways again. The pain pounding through her head intensified.

Without mercy, another rogue seized Elara by the ankle and dragged her across the ground. Elara screamed and fought desperately as his grip tightened around her leg, feeling as though he might crush her ankle.

Her fingers clawed desperately toward the silver dagger lying just out of reach.

It would be better to drive it straight into my own heart than let them defile me.

“Stop putting up a fight, sweetheart.”

One of the rogues threw himself over her, pinning her body down and trapping both her legs beneath his weight. His hand reached for the tattered remains of her dress, ready to tear it apart.

Elara squeezed her eyes shut.

ROAAAAAR!

A thunderous roar ripped through the night.

At the same instant, a massive black shadow flashed through the darkness, sweeping across the rogues and hurling them violently away from her body.

Bathed in the pale glow of the moon, Elara's eyes fluttered open.

Through her fading consciousness, she caught sight of a colossal wolf with jet-black fur and brilliant blue eyes, its murderous aura dominating the night.

And the last thing Elara saw before darkness claimed her was the severed head of one of the rogues lying apart from its body.