The Rejected Omega's Secret Royal Lycan Bloodline

Aden POV

The Azure Galleria was a temple of excess, a sprawling indoor sanctuary of marble and glass where Jork City's elite came to flaunt their wealth. The air here was thick, suffocatingly heavy with the meticulously crafted pheromones of dominant Alphas and high-society Lunas. It was an invisible, rigid hierarchy of scent, and as I walked through the gleaming corridors in my faded gray hoodie and worn-out sneakers, I was a ghost.

I stepped into Sanderson Profumeria, the crown jewel of the Galleria. The boutique was blindingly pristine, designed in stark, minimalist white that made the colorful, diamond-shaped perfume bottles pop under the spotlights.

Before browsing for Brooklyn's gift, I headed toward the back corridor to use the restroom.

"Excuse me, sir."

A female sales associate stepped into my path. Her makeup was flawless, her smile entirely synthetic. As her eyes dropped to my scuffed sneakers, the smile vanished. I watched her perfectly contoured nose twitch slightly as she took a subtle breath, searching for an Alpha or even a basic Warrior scent. Finding nothing, her eyes hardened with undisguised contempt.

"The restrooms are strictly reserved for our esteemed guests," she said, her tone dripping with polite venom.

The old Aden would have flushed with shame and walked away. But the dormant Lycan in my blood stirred, sending a wave of glacial, calculating anger through my veins. I didn't argue. I just met her gaze with a dead, cold stare.

"I am browsing," I said flatly, stepping around her and continuing down the hall.

As the restroom door clicked shut behind me, I heard her mutter to a colleague, "Scentless and shameless."

I splashed cold water on my face, letting the chill center me. I had a hundred million dollars in my pocket. Their petty judgments meant nothing anymore.

But as I pushed the restroom door open to return to the showroom, a sound froze the blood in my veins. A familiar, breathy giggle.

I stopped behind a sleek display pillar. There, standing at the main counter, were Sylvia and Dixon.

Sylvia was wrapped around Dixon's arm like a parasitic vine, her body pressed flush against his side as she greedily inhaled the dark pine and heavy musk radiating from him. Dixon had his large hand resting possessively on her hip, deliberately pushing his Alpha pheromones into the air to claim his territory.

The mixture of his arrogant musk and her sweet vanilla scent hit the back of my throat. Yesterday, it would have broken my heart. Today, it just made me physically nauseous. Looking at her flushed, fawning face, she looked terrifyingly like a stranger. She wasn't a girl I loved; she was just a hollow shell chasing the strongest scent in the room.

My Lycan roared in the back of my mind—a primal, territorial fury demanding I tear the throat out of the male touching what was once mine. I forced the beast down, watching them closely.

"Oh, Dixon, look at this one," Sylvia cooed, pointing to a stunning, diamond-shaped purple bottle resting on a velvet pedestal under a spotlight.

The sales associate—the same one who had stopped me—beamed. "Ah, the *Liquid Diamond*. Crafted by the legendary perfumer Adelard. It contains pure Moonpetal extract, designed to amplify and beautify a dominant wolf's pheromones to absolute perfection. It is our most exclusive piece."

Dixon puffed out his chest, eager to play the omnipotent future Alpha. "Wrap it up. Only the best for my future Luna."

"Right away, sir," the associate purred. "That will be three hundred thousand dollars."

Dixon's arrogant smirk instantly evaporated. His hand, reaching for his wallet, froze mid-air. He stared at the bottle, his jaw tightening as the reality of the price tag hit him. The Black Moon Pack was wealthy, but dropping three hundred grand on a whim for a college girlfriend was clearly beyond his limit.

Sylvia looked up at him, her eyes wide with greedy anticipation.

Dixon cleared his throat, his face flushing slightly. He quickly pulled his hand back. "Actually... no. That scent doesn't suit you, babe. It's too... aggressive. Let's look at the jewelry store next door."

He tugged her arm. Sylvia's face fell, a flash of bitter disappointment cracking her perfect, submissive mask before she quickly hid it.

Dixon was embarrassed. His Alpha pride had just taken a massive hit in front of his new prize and the store staff. He needed to reassert his dominance, to find someone lower on the food chain to crush.

As he turned, his golden eyes locked onto me standing by the pillar.

His posture instantly straightened, the humiliation morphing into a cruel, predatory grin. He let go of Sylvia and took a step toward me.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Dixon sneered, his voice echoing loudly in the quiet, pristine boutique. "A 'wolfless' stray sniffing around places he doesn't belong?"

Sylvia turned, her eyes widening in shock before twisting into a look of absolute disgust, as if she had just stepped in something foul.

I didn't flinch. I didn't cower. I just looked past Dixon's broad shoulders, my eyes locking onto the girl who had sold her soul for a man who couldn't even buy her a bottle of perfume.

*Bitch.*