From Rejected Omega To The Royal White Wolf

Ivy POV:

"Ivy! Stop!"

Clayton's hand clamped around my upper arm.

The moment his skin touched the fabric of my coat, a jolt of static electricity snapped between us.

It wasn't the pleasurable spark of a mate bond. It was the stinging, ugly backlash of a broken connection. It felt like touching a live wire.

Clayton hissed and jerked his hand back, staring at his palm as if it were burned.

"That... that shouldn't happen," he stammered. "You're dead. I rejected you."

I turned slowly, fixing him with a gaze cold enough to freeze hell over.

"Yes," I said. "You did."

*The memory hit me-wet asphalt, crushed legs, the metallic taste of blood. And his voice on the phone, cold as the grave.*

*I can't, Ivy. Ainsley is starting her First Shift tonight. She needs me.*

*I, Clayton Greene, reject you...*

*He had ripped my heart out while I was bleeding into the gutter.*

I looked at the man standing before me in the rain. The memory fueled my inner wolf, making her pace aggressively in my mind.

"You used the Alpha Command on a dying girl to make her stay silent," I said, my voice low. "You told me to disappear."

"I... I thought it was for the best," Clayton stammered. He looked confused, his arrogance battling with the undeniable pull of the bond that was trying to reattach itself. "Ainsley was... she was perfect. The pack needed strength."

"And now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clayton looked at me. Really looked at me.

Five years ago, I was a scrawny, mousy girl. Now, thanks to the royal training and proper nutrition, I was tall, fit, and radiated a beauty that came from power.

I saw the lust flare in his eyes. It was disgusting.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. "Ivy, I didn't know. If you had looked like this... if you had shifted..."

"If I had been useful to you," I corrected.

He stepped closer, trying to use his height to intimidate me. It was a classic Alpha move.

"I can sense the bond," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "It's weak, but it's there. My wolf wants you. You must feel it too."

"I feel nothing but nausea," I said.

He ignored me. "Ainsley... she hasn't given me an heir yet. The elders are unhappy. If you come back... if you apologize to Ainsley for the deception..."

I stared at him, incredulous. "Apologize?"

"Yes. For faking your death. For embarrassing the family," Clayton said, gaining confidence. "If you do that, I can take you in. Not as Luna, of course-the rejection is done-but as a Pack Mistress. You would be protected. You would be with me."

My inner wolf snarled so loud I thought he might hear it. *He wants to make us a whore in our own home! Kill him!*

*Patience,* I soothed her.

"Let me get this straight," I said, stepping into his personal space. I saw his nostrils flare as he tried desperately to find my scent. "You left me to die. You rejected me. And now, you offer me the position of a mistress?"

"It's a generous offer for a wolf with no pack and no scent," he sneered, his Alpha arrogance returning. "You are clearly powerless, Ivy. You need protection."

I looked at the plastic flowers in his hand.

"Your love is like those flowers, Clayton," I said softly. "Cheap. Artificial. And it will never grow."

I turned and walked toward my car.

"You're making a mistake!" he yelled after me. "You can't survive out there as a Rogue!"

I opened the car door and looked back one last time.

"I am not a Rogue, Clayton. And you have no idea what survival looks like."

I slammed the door, leaving him standing in the rain, clutching his chest as the delayed pain of the rejection finally hit him.

*