Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Supreme King

Isabela POV:

The world came back in a haze of white ceilings and the steady beep-beep-beep of a monitor.

I blinked, my eyelids feeling heavy as lead. The sharp agony in my stomach was gone, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache and the tightness of bandages.

"You're awake."

I turned my head. Kason was sitting in the armchair next to the bed. He looked terrible. His shirt was rumpled, his eyes bloodshot. He was holding a cup of coffee that had long gone cold.

"Kason," I rasped. My throat felt like sandpaper.

He stood up quickly, pouring a glass of water from a pitcher on the bedside table. He held the straw to my lips. His hand was trembling.

"Drink," he said softly. Not a command. A plea.

I drank. The water was cool and soothing.

"It wasn't a baby," he said, setting the glass down. He didn't look at me. He looked at his hands. "It was your appendix. Dr. Evans fixed it."

"I know," I whispered. "I told you."

"I..." He stopped, his jaw working. Alphas didn't apologize. It wasn't in their nature. "I moved you to a VIP suite. You will stay here until you are healed. No basement."

"Thank you, Alpha," I said, closing my eyes. The title felt like a wall between us.

Three days later, I was discharged. But instead of taking me back to the Pack House, the car turned toward the city center.

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking out the window. I was wearing a soft cashmere sweater Kason had brought me. It smelled of the store, not of him.

"The Annual Pack Charity Auction," Kason said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "You need fresh air. And... people have been talking. They need to see that the Oneal Pack takes care of its own."

Of course. It was about appearances. The rumors from the hospital must have spread.

We arrived at the grand hotel ballroom. It was filled with the elite of the werewolf world-Alphas, Betas, wealthy business partners. The air was thick with the scents of expensive cologne and power.

Dalia wasn't there. Kason had said she was "indisposed," though I suspected he had ordered her to stay away to avoid a scene.

"Stay close to me," Kason murmured, placing a hand on the small of my back. His touch burned, but not in the way Hadley's did. This was a brand of possession, not a spark of connection.

I nodded, my hand drifting to my neck. I wasn't wearing the Moonstone pendant. Dalia had that. Instead, I wore a simple string of freshwater pearls. They were my mother's, the only jewelry I had managed to hide from the "cleaning" of my room.

We sat at the front table. The auction began. Vintage wines, antique swords, vacations in the Alps. I stared blankly ahead, my mind miles away. In New York. With Hadley.

"And now," the auctioneer announced, "Lot 45. A rare, hand-carved wolf's tooth necklace. Donated by Alpha Kason Oneal."

My head snapped up.

A spotlight hit the glass case on stage. Inside, resting on black velvet, was a necklace made of a real timber wolf's tooth, bound in silver wire.

Kason had given that to me when I was sixteen. He had told me he found it in a souvenir shop. I had cherished it, wearing it under my shirt every day until Dalia came back and he demanded I stop wearing "trash."

"I didn't know you donated this," I said, my voice hollow.

"It was just clutter," Kason said, swirling his wine. "Dalia said it looked primitive."

"It was my favorite," I said quietly. "You told me it was a symbol of strength."

"I lied," he said, though his eyes didn't meet mine. "It was just a trinket."

"Bidding starts at five thousand dollars!" the auctioneer shouted.

"Six thousand!" a Beta from a neighboring pack called out.

"Seven thousand!"

I watched the numbers climb. That necklace represented the lie of my childhood. Kason had given it to me, taken it back, and was now selling it.

"It has no soul," I whispered, more to myself than him. "Just like this pack."

Kason froze. He looked at me, really looked at me. He saw the emptiness in my eyes. The adoration that used to be there was gone, replaced by a terrifying indifference.

Panic flashed across his face.

"Ten thousand!" Kason shouted, raising his paddle.

The room went silent. The auctioneer blinked. "Alpha Oneal? You are... bidding on your own item?"

"Twenty thousand!" Kason barked, his voice laced with Alpha power. "I am buying it back."

"Kason, stop," I said, embarrassed as heads turned. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters!" he hissed, turning to me. His eyes were wild. "It's yours. I gave it to you. Nobody else touches what is yours."

"Sold! To Alpha Oneal for twenty thousand dollars!"

He slumped back in his chair, breathing hard. He looked at me, expecting gratitude. Expecting the old Isabela to cry and thank him.

I just looked at the stage.

"You wasted your money, Kason," I said softly. "I don't wear collars anymore."