Claiming His Rival's Forsaken Omega Mate

For sixteen years, I was the loyal shadow and unmarked bedmate of Darius, the Alpha Heir of the Silver Moon Pack. I took eighteen silver daggers for him, surviving only because of my hidden White Wolf bloodline.

But tonight, he tossed a vial of heat-inducing potion onto our bed and ordered me to drug Caleb, the terrifying Supreme Alpha of a rival pack.

"Make Vivian think he forced himself on you," he commanded coldly.

Darius wanted to ruin Caleb's reputation so Vivian, the noble female who once rejected Darius in disgust, would leave Caleb and come back to him. To Darius, my sixteen years of bloody loyalty and my eighteen silver scars meant less than winning back his childhood crush. He even promised to arrange a random mate for me afterward, wrapping his cruel dismissal in the guise of a reward.

Sixteen years of blind devotion turned to ash in my mouth. I was nothing but a disposable shield, a convenient tool to be thrown to a violent predator just to make another woman jealous.

I took the potion and walked into the Supreme Alpha's heavily guarded territory, ready to pay my final life debt and cut ties with Darius forever.

But when the terrifying Alpha's glowing golden eyes locked onto mine, he didn't tear me apart. Instead, he snapped an ancient mithril bracelet onto my wrist and claimed me as his fated Luna.

Chapter 1

Elara POV

The bedchamber's curtains, a deep claret velvet so thick they seemed to swallow the moonlight, plunged the room into a heavy stillness. I lay on the massive oak bed, the silence broken only by the crackle of the hearth. The air, still dense with the aftermath of our intimacy, clung to my skin.

Darius, the Alpha Heir of the Silver Moon Pack, stood by the fireplace. His back was a rigid line against the flickering light. He did not look at me. Instead, he tossed a small glass vial onto the silk sheets. The vial, no bigger than my thumb, made a soft, slithering sound as it rolled to a stop against the bare curve of my hip, its coldness a stark contrast to my skin. I looked down at the dark purple liquid swirling within.

"Take it," Darius ordered, his voice as flat and cold as river stone.

I sat up, pulling the sheet to the hollow of my throat. "What is this?" I asked, the words barely a whisper.

"A potion," he replied, finally turning his head. "It contains a trace of wolfsbane and a heavy dose of herbs to force an Omega into an early heat."

A knot of ice formed in the pit of my stomach. I stared at the man I had served for sixteen years. When I was five years old, a rogue wolf nearly tore my throat out in the snowy streets. Darius threw a single gold coin to the rogue and bought my life. He did it just to anger his father. Since that day, I became his shadow. I took eighteen silver daggers for him over the years. Silver was deadly to our kind. It poisoned the blood and stopped the healing process. The only reason I survived was the ancient White Wolf bloodline hidden deep within my veins. The White Wolf bloodline, ancient and silent, stirred faintly in my veins, as if it knew something I did not. No one knew about my bloodline, not even Darius. I was his unmarked bedmate, his loyal shield, and his willing Omega.

"Why?" I asked, my voice a faint tremor.

"I need you to drug Caleb," Darius said, walking toward the bed. "The Supreme Alpha of the Blood Eclipse Pack. Set him up. Make Vivian think he forced himself on you."

The weight of his words felt like a physical pressure, a heavy stone settling upon my sternum. "You want me to ruin another Alpha?" I whispered.

"I want Vivian to catch you," Darius corrected me. "I want her to see him as a monster."

Vivian was a high-ranking noble female in our pack. She was also Darius's childhood love. Years ago, Darius took a silver blade for Vivian, but she pushed him away in disgust because of the bloody mess. He brought me into his bed out of spite, showering me with affection to make her jealous. He even shattered the bones in his own older brother's arm when he tried to touch me, spending months recovering from the subsequent punishment. I thought that meant he cared for me. I thought I was more than a convenience.

"Vivian wants to be Caleb's Luna," Darius continued, his eyes darkening with a feverish obsession. "If she catches him losing control and attacking a lowly Omega like you, her pride will be wounded. She will give up on him. She will finally come back to me."

Sixteen years of blood and scars, and he weighed them against a woman who had never bled for him. I looked down at the vial again, then at my own hands. I thought of the eighteen silver-inflicted scars that mapped my body, and I realized their combined weight meant less to him than these few ounces of purple liquid.

"I will do it," I said. My voice was a hollowed-out thing.

Darius's forward momentum ceased. The muscles around his brows twitched as his gaze swept my face, searching for a flaw in my compliance. My swift agreement seemed to unsettle him more than any protest. As his own wolf grew restless, the scent of burnt wood from the hearth seemed to swell and thicken in the air.

"If you are afraid," Darius muttered, stepping closer, "I can find another female to do this. You do not have to..." He reached out to touch my cheek. My chin tilted back instinctively, a fraction of an inch, just enough for his fingers to meet empty air.

"I am not afraid," I said steadily. "I will do as you command."

His hand hovered in the space between us for a second before he let it fall. He masked the dark gloom in his eyes and picked up a velvet robe, throwing it over my shoulders.

"Good," he said coldly. "Slip the potion into his drink, tear your dress, and scream. Caleb will lose his mind. I will break the door down before he can actually mark you." He turned his back to me, walking toward the heavy oak door. "I will protect your reputation afterward," he added without looking back. "And when this is over, I will personally choose a strong Warrior from the pack to be your mate."

The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the dark. I held the vial tightly in my hand, my fingers white. The cold emptiness inside me was not a void—it was a kindling, waiting for a spark.