From Bait to Queen: The Rejected Mate's Destiny

To the Dark Moon Pack, I wasn't just invisible; I was a stain. Dean Lee, the Alpha designed for my soul, treated me like a shameful secret while he paraded his mistress, Karina, in red silk.

The night of the Charity Auction, Dean bought my late mother's moonstone pendant—the only thing I had left of her—for a hundred thousand dollars.

I begged him for it. Instead, he clasped it around Karina's ankle.

With a cruel laugh, Karina stomped her stiletto heel, crushing the moonstone into dust. Dean just watched, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

"It was just a cheap rock," he said. "I'll buy you diamonds."

But the cruelty didn't stop at emotional torture. When rogues attacked, Dean used me as live bait to distract them from Karina.

He threw me into the Blood Pit, a gladiator arena, to fight a massive Feral wolf while he sat in the VIP box with Karina on his lap.

"She won't last three minutes," I heard him say through our dying bond.

He watched with bored detachment as I was ripped apart, refusing to save me even as I screamed his name. He saved the mistress and drowned the mate.

I died on that arena floor. Or so he thought.

Years later, the mysterious and world-renowned artist "H.Y." returned to New York for a gallery opening.

When Dean saw me on stage, he rushed forward, tears streaming down his face, trying to claim the wife he had mourned.

"Hayley," he choked out, reaching for me. "You're alive. You're mine."

I didn't cry. I didn't run.

I unleashed a shockwave of ancient White Wolf energy that blasted him across the room, shattering the glass displays.

"I don't take orders from dogs anymore," I said, looking down at him.

"I, Hayley York, hereby reject you."

Chapter 1

Hayley POV:

The crystal chandeliers of the Pierre Hotel ballroom cast long, jagged shadows against the velvet walls, caging me in. I stood by the kitchen service doors, gripping a glass of lukewarm water, trying to blend into the wallpaper.

To the Dark Moon Pack, I wasn't just invisible; I was a stain.

My eyes found him instantly. Dean Lee, Alpha of New York's most powerful pack, anchored the center of the room. Even from here, his scent-crushed pine and ozone-hit me like a physical blow. It made the wolf deep inside my soul whimper.

Mate, she whispered, weak and thready.

But Dean wasn't looking at me. His hand rested on the waist of Karina, a Beta draped in red silk who laughed too loudly.

"Don't stare, mutt," a passing warrior sneered, checking my shoulder. Water sloshed onto my cheap grey dress. "You're lucky Alpha Dean let you out of the penthouse."

I kept my head down. Dean kept me around not as a mate, but as a shameful secret-a wolf-less Omega charity case. But tonight was the anniversary of my mother's death, and I needed him.

When the music swelled, Dean moved toward the terrace. I slipped