Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

The morning light filtered through the ceremonial hall's stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the polished marble floor where I scrubbed diligently. My knees ached against the cold stone, but I kept my head down, maintaining my disguise as just another Omega servant in the Moonstone Pack.

"Did you hear about last night's incident?" A hushed voice caught my attention from behind a nearby pillar.

I slowed my scrubbing, tilting my ear toward the conversation between two pack security guards who hadn't noticed me in my kneeling position.

"Some guy with VIP credentials caused a scene at the territorial meeting," the younger guard said, his voice tinged with frustration. "Demanding the Omega servers kneel while they served him. Total disrespect."

"Who was it?" his companion asked.

"Don't know his name, but he had Alpha-level access. Kept flashing some special card and making demands. We couldn't do anything since his credentials checked out."

My heart skipped a beat. Alpha-level access? I'd only granted that privilege to one person—Devon, my fated mate.

"That's the third incident this month," the older guard continued. "These Omegas have it rough enough without some entitled jerk abusing them."

I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. My wolf, Luna, whimpered inside me, sensing my distress.

*Stay calm,* I reminded myself. *We need more evidence before confronting him.*

After finishing my assigned tasks, I was reassigned to the refreshment preparation area. The ceremony was scheduled to begin in an hour, and the pack gathering would be one of the largest this season.

"Keep those glasses polished!" Catherine Willis barked at me, her supervisor badge gleaming as she strutted past. "And make sure the silver trays are spotless. We can't have the higher ranks seeing any imperfections."

I nodded meekly, playing my part while my mind raced with the morning's overheard conversation.

The commotion at the entrance drew everyone's attention. A tall figure with broad shoulders pushed past the security checkpoint, his voice carrying across the preparation hall.

"I don't care about your protocol. I have VIP access, and I want to be seated in the Alpha section."

My breath caught in my throat as I recognized the arrogant swagger. Max Cruz—a rogue thug with a reputation for brutality. What was he doing here?

"Sir, this is a restricted area," Ryan Mitchell, the Gamma's son and head of ceremony security, stepped forward. "You'll need to check in at the main entrance."

Max pulled out a gleaming black card with the Moonstone Pack emblem—the exact card I'd given to Devon. My fingers clenched around the silver tray I was holding.

"This good enough for you?" Max sneered, flashing the card. "Alpha VIP access. That includes this area, doesn't it?"

Ryan's face paled as he scanned the card. "This is... this belongs to—"

"It belongs to whoever has it now," Max cut him off. "And right now, that's me. So step aside."

My blood boiled as I watched Ryan reluctantly move aside, clearly uncomfortable but bound by