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He Broke the Omega: The White Wolf's Revenge Novel Cover

He Broke the Omega: The White Wolf's Revenge

Betrayed by her Fated Mate, Alessia Salinas endured seven years in a silver-lined prison. Alpha Dante Moretti sacrificed her to protect Chiara, a woman credited with a heroic deed Alessia actually performed. Now free, Alessia faces a family demanding she step aside for her rival. They view her as a weak Omega, unaware the silver forged her into the legendary White Wolf. When the lies crumble, a desperate Dante begs for mercy, only for Alessia to coldly reject their bond forever.
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Chapter 1

For two thousand, five hundred and fifty-five days, I breathed air filtered through silver vents. Silver is poison to our kind, yet my Fated Mate, Alpha Dante Moretti, personally drove me to that prison and locked me in hell for seven years.

He did it to protect another woman.

When I was finally released, gaunt and broken, Dante didn't offer an apology. He offered excuses. He claimed it was necessary to save Chiara, the delicate "golden child" who supposedly saved his life years ago.

But it was a lie.

I was the one who had drained my veins until I went into shock to save him, while my parents handed the credit to Chiara. Now, back in the manor, I was forced to watch my mate feed her grapes and comfort her fake distress.

My parents called me a "soulless waste" and demanded I annul our engagement so Dante could mark Chiara. They thought I was a weak Omega they could discard.

They didn't know that the silver hadn't killed me; it had forged me. They had no idea that the "runt" they abused possessed the blood of the White Wolf, the most powerful creature in our history.

When the truth finally shattered their lies, Dante crawled to me, bleeding and begging on his knees in a hotel hallway. But I didn't feel triumph. I felt nothing.

"I, Alessia Salinas, reject you, Dante Moretti."

I walked away from the Alpha who broke me, leaving him to scream into the silence of a severed bond.

Chapter 1

Alessia POV:

The heavy iron gates of the Federal Silver Prison groaned as they opened. It sounded like a beast dying in slow motion. I stepped out, shielding my eyes from the gray sky.

Seven years.

For two thousand, five hundred and fifty-five days, I had breathed air filtered through silver vents. Silver is poison to our kind. It suppresses the wolf, burns the skin, and rots the spirit. Most wolves go mad after a month. I lasted seven years.

A black SUV waited on the asphalt. The window rolled down.

Dante Moretti sat in the driver's seat.

My heart hammered against my ribs, not out of love, but out of a terrified instinct. He was the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack. He was the most powerful predator on the West Coast.

And he was my Fated Mate.

I smelled him before I saw him properly. Dark chocolate and burnt driftwood. It was a scent that used to drop me to my knees. Now, it just made my stomach turn.

"Get in," he said. His voice was low, vibrating with the Alpha tone that usually commands instant obedience.

I climbed into the passenger seat. My clothes, a cheap gray sweatsuit given to me by the warden, hung loosely on my skeletal frame. I looked at my wrists. The skin there was permanently scarred, a ring of angry red flesh where the silver cuffs had eaten into me.

Dante didn't look at me. He put the car in gear and sped away.

"You look thin," he said after ten minutes of silence.

"Silver tends to do that," I rasped. My voice was rusty from disuse.

Dante gripped the steering wheel tighter. His knuckles turned white. "It was necessary, Alessia. You know that."

I looked out the window at the passing forest. "Necessary to lock me in a cage for a crime I didn't commit?"

"Chiara hit the heir of the Shadow Claw pack," Dante said, his jaw tight. "If the Shadow Claw knew it was her, they would have demanded a blood debt. A war would have started. You... you were the Omega. You were safe in there. The prison was the only place the Shadow Claw couldn't reach you. It was my protection."

Protection.

He called seven years of torture protection. He thought he was being a benevolent Alpha.

"I took the fall so your precious Chiara wouldn't break a nail," I whispered.

"Chiara is fragile," he snapped. "Her wolf is sick. She wouldn't have survived a week in a cell. You are resilient."

Resilient. That was the word people used when they wanted to use you as a punching bag.

Suddenly, Dante's expression shifted. His eyes glazed over. He was Mind-Linking.

*Dante! It hurts! My chest... I think my spiritual core is cracking again!*

The voice screamed in my head, echoing because of the open channel in the car. It was Chiara.

Dante's face paled. "I'm coming, Chiara. Hold on."

He slammed his foot on the gas. The SUV lurched forward, pinning me to the seat. He drove like a madman, ignoring the speed limits, ignoring me.

We arrived at the Salinas Estate. My home. Or it used to be.

Dante didn't drive to the front entrance. He swerved around to the back, near the servants' quarters and the garbage bins.

"Get out," he said, not looking at me. "I have to get to her."

"Dante, I just got out of prison. I have nowhere-"

"Go to the storage room on the third floor. The main rooms are occupied. Chiara needs space for her therapy equipment."

He didn't wait for me to close the door. As soon as my feet hit the gravel, he peeled away, tires screeching, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

I stood there, shivering in the cold wind. My Fated Mate had just treated me worse than a stray dog.

The back door opened. The Beta butler, old Mr. Henderson, looked at me with pity.

"Miss Alessia," he said. "You're back."

"Where do I sleep, Henderson?"

"The attic, Miss. Third floor. It... hasn't been cleaned."

I climbed the stairs. My legs shook with every step. The silver radiation from the prison had leached the calcium from my bones.

The room was a closet. It smelled of dust and mothballs. There was a cot in the corner and a broken desk.

I sat on the cot and pulled a small, encrypted laptop from my bag. It was the only thing I had smuggled out, a gift from a hacker inmate who owed me a favor.

I opened it. A message blinked on the screen.

*From: Dominica Neutral Zone Council*

*To: Subject 8940*

*Message: We have reviewed your application. Your skills are needed. The boat leaves in three days from the smuggling port. Are you in?*

I looked at the scar on my wrist. I looked at the dust motes dancing in the light of the tiny window.

I typed two words.

*I accept.*

*

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