Unwanted by Him, Chosen by the Stronger Alpha

Olivia POV:

I managed to survive for three days.

I was hiding in a dilapidated motel on the outskirts of the territory, gathering supplies before the long drive to Montana. I thought I was safe. I thought I was invisible.

But you can never really run from an Alpha.

I was loading the last box into the truck when darkness descended. A rough burlap bag was thrown over my head. Calloused hands grabbed me, fingers digging into my bruising flesh.

I smelled the distinct, rotten stench of Rogues—wolves without a Pack, feral and dangerous.

I fought, but I was weak. A needle pricked the tender skin of my neck, and the world went black.

When I woke up, I was hanging by my wrists.

My shoulders screamed in agony, the joints stretched to their breaking point. I was suspended from a rusty beam in an abandoned factory. The air smelled of mold, stagnant water, and dried blood.

"Look who's awake."

I blinked, trying to focus through the haze of the drug. A Rogue with a scarred face stood in front of me. But he wasn't alone.

Tied to a chair next to me was Izzy.

She looked perfect, of course. Her hair was barely tousled. She was crying, but it looked practiced, like a scene from a bad movie.

"Olivia!" she sobbed. "Oh god, they took us both!"

The heavy metal door banged open.

Marcus burst in.

He looked frantic. His eyes were wild, scanning the room until they landed on... Izzy.

"Izzy!" he roared, his Alpha power shaking the dust from the rafters.

"Marcus!" she screamed. "Save me! Save our baby!"

Marcus froze. "Baby?"

"I'm pregnant!" she wailed. "Please, don't let them hurt our pup!"

It was a lie. I knew it. I could smell the deceit on her like cheap, acrid perfume. There was no second heartbeat thrumming inside her.

The Rogue leader stepped forward, holding a detonator in one hand and a jagged knife in the other.

"Welcome, Alpha," he sneered. "Simple game. You have the cash?"

Marcus threw a duffel bag on the floor. "Take it. Let them go."

"Ah, not so fast," the Rogue laughed, his voice grating. "I only have one key for these chains. And the building is rigged to blow in two minutes."

He pointed the knife at us.

"You choose, Alpha. The Runt? Or your pregnant Mate?"

Marcus didn't even look at me.

Not once.

He didn't hesitate. He didn't struggle.

"Izzy," he said, his voice breathless. "Give me the key for Izzy."

The Rogue tossed him the key. Marcus rushed to her, unlocking the chains with trembling hands. He scooped her up into his arms, burying his face in her neck.

"I've got you," he murmured. "I've got you."

"What about her?" the Rogue asked, pointing at me with the tip of his blade.

Marcus looked at me then. For the first time.

His eyes were void of emotion. "She's just a Runt."

Just a Runt.

The Rogue laughed. "Right you are."

He walked over to me. Marcus was already turning away, carrying Izzy toward the exit.

"Hey!" the Rogue shouted.

Marcus paused, glancing back.

The Rogue winked at me. "Sorry, sweetheart. Nothing personal."

He cut the rope holding my wrists.

I dropped. But not to the floor.

I fell backward, through a gaping hole in the floorboards.

Below me, the dark, freezing waters of the industrial river churned.

I hit the water with a bone-jarring smack. The cold was instantaneous. It paralyzed my lungs, stealing my breath. The current grabbed me, dragging me down into the blackness.

I looked up. Through the distorted surface of the water, I saw Marcus walking away. He held Izzy tight. He didn't look back.

I was dying.

My lungs burned. My heart slowed. The darkness crept in from the edges of my vision.

*He left me. He chose her lie over my life.*

The sorrow washed away, replaced by a pure, white-hot rage.

*No.*

The voice didn't come from my head. It came from my blood.

*NO!*

A power, ancient and terrifying, exploded in my chest. It wasn't the weak spark I had felt before. It was a supernova.

My bones snapped.

Usually, shifting takes minutes. It is a slow, grinding agony.

This was instant.

My body tore apart and reknit in a fraction of a second. Fur sprouted, thick and waterproof. My senses expanded a thousand times over. I could smell the fish in the deep, the rust on the metal, the fear of the Rogue above.

I kicked my legs, but they weren't legs anymore. They were powerful paws.

I burst through the surface of the water, gasping for air.

I wasn't a Runt.

I looked at my reflection in a patch of calm water.

I was massive. Bigger than any female wolf I had ever seen. My fur was pure, blinding white, glowing faintly in the gloom. My eyes were violet—the color of the Moon Goddess herself.

I was a White Wolf. The rarest, most powerful shifter in existence.

I paddled to the muddy bank and hauled myself out. I shook my coat, sending icy spray everywhere.

I looked toward the factory. I could hear Marcus's car speeding away.

A low growl rumbled in my chest. It wasn't a sound of despair. It was a promise.

I turned my back on the Moonstone Pack. I turned my back on Marcus Thorne.

I ran.

My paws ate up the ground. I was faster than the wind. I was a ghost in the forest.

I was free.