They Cast Me Out As Omega, I Returned As Alpha

Aderyn Vael

The desire of a mature Alpha is always raw. Primitive. It knows no pleasantries.

Erick Crownholt is a thirty-year-old Alpha—the leader of the Crownholt clan, ruler of the eastern territory of Silverfall Heights. And I… I have long since lost count of how many times my body has bowed to the dominance of his instincts.

Every thrust, every small bite on my skin, feels like a marking—as if he is claiming his territory. My body trembles beneath him, forced to accept the heat of Alpha pheromones so thick my lungs feel as if they are burning.

I can barely breathe.

Erick knows my body too well. He knows where to press, where to hold back, where to break me slowly. There is no wasted touch. He is skilled, experienced, and cruel in the way he makes me depend on him.

When it is over, he stands beside the bed, his Alpha aura still pressing down on the air. He puts on his clothes calmly—as if I am nothing more than a matter already taken care of.

“Clear my schedule for a week starting tomorrow. I’m taking leave,” he says flatly. “Book two tickets to Mooncrest.”

My heart pounds hard. I shift my still-aching hips, looking at him with the foolish hope that always appears after nights like this.

“Erick…” my voice is soft, fragile. “You’re taking me to the coastal territory?”

He pauses. Just for a moment. Then he turns with the cold gaze of an Alpha. “I’m going with Nathelia.”

The world stops.

My smile freezes. My wolf instinct curls in fear. I lower my head, pressing down the pain gnawing at my chest.

“Very well, Alpha Crownholt,” I finally say, using the title that always reminds me of the distance between us.

I am an orphan. No clan. No protector.

In my first year at the academy, my unclaimed blood and my overly striking face provoked Mirelle Crownholt’s jealousy—Erick’s younger sister. She was a female Beta with full authority on campus. The bullying destroyed me.

One of my ears was damaged. My little toe was crushed. My skin was nearly burned by cigarette butts. They recorded everything. Uploaded it to the inter-clan network. The scandal exploded.

It was Erick who appeared and took me away, broken.

He spoke to me gently, “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

He took me his home, and gave me flowers and a small cake.

As a clanless orphan, I had never even had a birthday cake before. So that small gift felt like the world. Like acknowledgment. Like a mark.

That night, I gave everything to him—my virginity, my loyalty, my instincts.

Now, all I can do is smile bitterly. How foolish I was.

For four years, I went along with him in every intimate moment. Only to realize that, from beginning to end, I was nothing more than his mistress.

The woman he truly loved had always been Nathelia Blackmaw—the Beta of the Blackmaw clan. Even though Nathelia had once been married, now that she was divorced and back, she was still Erick’s first choice.

My chest feels tight. I want to say something, but Erica had already left the room, only leave me a black shopping card sealed with the Crownholt clan crest.

Maybe it’s time for me to leave.

With trembling hands, I call a number I once blocked—an Alpha from the Thorneval clan.

“Lord Thorneval,” I say softly. “If I agree to be your mate… will your offer to fund my studies at Wolfspire still stand?”

Silence. Then a low, deep voice filled with authority. “Think carefully. Come to the Thorneval Residence on the 13th, at seven in the evening. We’ll discuss the agreement.”

The 13th. That’s… eight days from now. And maybe… that is the only way out of Alpha Crownholt’s territory.

The next day, I go to work at the Crownholt Group headquarters as usual. But the moment I stepped into the company, I ran into Nathelia.

She looks at me and smiles gently—the smile of a pure-blood Beta, born to become a Luna. She is perfect. Elegant. Strong without effort. I know I have lost.

An Alpha never truly chooses a clanless wolf. We are only a stopover.

I wanted to leave, but she called out to me.

“Miss AderynMr, Crownholt asks that you drive us to the airport at eleven.”

I smile bitterly. He is doing it on purpose. He wants me to remember my place. In the end, Erick and Mirelle are the same. One destroyed my body. The other crushed my heart.

She just stands there calmly, her Beta aura stable and clean. Not aggressive, not pressing, but that is exactly what makes my chest tight. My pheromones—unlabeled, clanless—immediately bow without my realizing it.

“S...Sure.” I answered.

“Before that, could you please buy a few things for my trip?” she says gently.

She hands me a small handwritten list. The writing is neat. Delicate. Just like her—raised with clan education, protected by blood, trained to become a Luna.

I lower my gaze to read it. And one word hits me like a claw to the chest.

Condoms.

My wolf’s breath stutters.

Aderyn Vael

Four years with Erick—and he never once bought condoms. He didn’t like them. Said they interfered with the bond. A bond? Funny. So I was the one always taking the pills. But for Nathelia? Of course he wouldn’t bear to let his Beta take the risk.

Inside the car heading to the airport, I stayed silent. Alpha Erick’s aura filled the cabin—heavy. Pressing. Like invisible claws at my throat.

“We’re running out of time,” he said deliberately, aware I wasn’t speaking. “Drive faster.” His voice was sharp. A command.

“Yes, Alpha Crownholt.” I nodded, pressing the gas, turning left as the light turned green.

The car ahead of us had just passed—when suddenly a little boy ran a red light. The Omega instinct within me screamed. I jerked the wheel to avoid him. I could control the steering well. But before the car reached the proper lane—my wolf growled. Something was wrong. Not the child, but another scent that followed—foreign. Metal. Old blood. And something darker—enemy.

“Erick—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence.

BANG!

A black vehicle slammed into our side. Not an ordinary crash. It was an attack. Glass shattered. Metal screamed. Our car spun wildly before crashing into the road barrier.

“Watch out!”

Before I could even breathe—they came. Four. No. Six. Wolves from another clan. Their auras were wild. Unbound by territorial rules. The car door was yanked open. Torn apart. As if it were paper. Thin.

“Target’s inside!” one of them growled.

Nathelia. Of course she was Erick’s priority. He moved fast and brutal. In a second—he was already out of the car. His body half-shifted. Claws emerged. Fangs lengthened. His pheromones exploded.

I could feel dominance, claim, and protection all at once. Erick pulled Nathelia into his arms. Placing her behind his body. Like the center of his world.

And me? Trapped. My leg pinned under metal.

“Erick…” my voice broke. My old instincts surfaced. Desperate. “Help me…”

But the sounds of fighting swallowed everything.

RAAAARGH!

One of the attackers lunged. Erick met him without hesitation. Blood splattered. Claws tore into flesh. Bones cracked. He was brutal. More than I had ever seen. A true Alpha. But all of that—wasn’t for me.

“Get her out!” one of the enemies shouted.

Two of them tried to break toward the car—toward Nathelia. Erick crushed one of their necks. Instantly. Without mercy. But the others—there were too many.

“Erick…” I cried.

My hands trembled. I was trapped. Unable to move. Narrow space. Cold metal against half my body. No. Not again.

Old shadows hit me. A cage. Darkness. Air running out. I began to panic.

“Don’t leave me—!”

Erick turned his head. Finally. Our eyes met. One second. Just one. Then—he turned away.

“The territory guard team is on their way,” his voice was cold and controlled. “Focus on the target.”

The target. Not me. He lifted Nathelia and carried her. Protecting her completely.

“There’s still someone inside—” Nathelia’s voice was soft, hesitant.

Erick only glanced at me briefly, coldly. “She’s not a priority.”

That sentence—sharper than any claw.

“There’s no time,” he continued. Then he left me behind in the middle of the battlefield.

I screamed. “ERICK!”

But he didn’t stop. Didn’t look back. Because he was afraid—Nathelia would misunderstand. Hah. Funny.

I hit the glass and pulled at my leg. My skin tore. Blood flowed. My wolf raged, crashing against the walls of my own body.

“Get me out!”

Outside—the battle was still ongoing.

CRACK!

Someone slammed onto the car hood. Fire began to appear. Small, then growing.

“The car’s on fire!”

“There’s still someone inside!”

The shouts of people on the street echoed. Meanwhile, I was trapped, alone, and desperate. I laughed, softly, hysterically. Of course.

I started counting.

“One…”

Smoke entered, burning my lungs.

“Two…”

My head began to throb as my coughing worsened.

“Three…”

Just like before. I was trapped in a dark cage alone. The night Mirelle locked me in that cage, I counted to 6,788. I wondered—at what number would I die this time?

*

I really was too stubborn to die. A wolf like me—even one without a pack—turns out to still be tough enough to survive. When I opened my eyes, morning light had already slipped through the windows of the Eastern Clan Healing House. The smell of antiseptic faintly mixed with wet wool and dried blood—a scent that only exists in places where strong bodies are broken and then stitched back together.

“A minor fracture in the right arm, mild concussion, and several soft tissue injuries,” the clan healer’s voice sounded flat. His eyes narrowed, assessing me like a wounded animal. “Any other pain? Uncontrolled shifting urges?”

I shook my head slowly. My hand reached for the phone beside the bed. Not a single call from Erick. Alpha Crownholt—the man who once gave me a mark of protection, though he never bound me as a true mate. But on the screen, the clan’s social media symbol lit up. Erick, who had never displayed his private affairs to the public territory, posted an image.

A blue sea—the southern territory, a conflict-free zone. And in the middle of it, Nathelia. Her Bohemian dress fluttered, her shoulders bare, the mark on her neck clearly visible. Not a bite mark. But the clan’s silver necklace—a symbol that she was under the Alpha’s protection. She looked more beautiful than the sea itself.

My chest tightened. I pulled the blanket over my head, and finally—finally—cried in silence. Four years I had been by his side. As a shadow. As a body he called when the nights were too long and his instincts too strong. But before the clan… I was no one.

After leaving the Healing House, I returned to my small apartment on the edge of Silverfall Heights— a gray zone where wolves without clans survive. I swallowed painkillers, then slept. For an entire day.

My nerves were really made of cheap steel. When I woke up, I almost felt like a normal living being. I stuck heat patches on my arm and leg, then dragged myself back to the Crownholt Group building—a tower of stone and glass standing right in the heart of their territory.

I needed that internship salary. A wolf without a pack needs coins more than pride. As soon as I entered, whispers immediately greeted me.

“Did you see Alpha Erick’s post? The night goddess is truly his now.”

“He’s unbelievably loyal. Waiting years for his true mate.”

I smiled bitterly and sat at my desk. Yes. Erick loved Nathelia. With his heart, with his name, with his clan status. But loyal? That’s a joke only young wolves believe. For an Alpha, love and desire are two different territories. My body had only ever been the territory of the night. Nathelia—that was the daylight territory he would officially claim.

“Miss Aderyn, this is a work area. Alpha Erick—”

A sudden commotion broke out from the direction of the elevator. I turned my head. And my blood seemed to freeze. Mirelle Crownholt. A pure-blood she-wolf, the clan’s heir, stepped out with an undisguised aura of dominance. Her heels struck the floor like a declaration of war.

“Move.”

She walked straight toward me. My body reacted faster than my thoughts—shoulders lowered, head bowed. Old memories from the clan academy seized me again: narrow spaces, laughter, rough hands, and the smell of my own fear.

Mirelle came close and whispered in my ear, her voice cold as a silver blade.

“Erick is coming back today,” she said. “He and Nathelia will mate. Officially. In front of the clan.”

Her laugh was low. Cruel. “Four years ago I told you—the day he throws you away is the day of your death.”

Slap!

The sound of her strike echoed throughout the room.

Aderyn Vael

When that hard slap landed on my face, I didn’t fight back, didn’t make a sound. I am a coward. A wolf without a pack must not bite the Alpha’s heir. That is an old law. Older than justice.

“Remember this?” Mirelle sneered. “Back then Erick attacked me because of you. For the first time in my life he touched me—then sent me overseas. All because of a stray like you.”

She grabbed the coffee on the table and poured it over my head.

“You think sleeping with him means you’ve won? Orphan. No clan. No blood. Do you really think the Alpha would choose you?”

She pressed my head down. “Get out of Crownholt Group. Or I’ll expose all your disgrace to the clan network.”

I stayed silent. Which disgrace? The time I was stripped at the academy and photographed? Or the fact that I had once been in their Alpha’s bed? No one defended me. Not a single wolf in that room was foolish enough to oppose the heir.

In the restroom, I straightened my clothes. I didn’t cry. Before, I would have cried. Now I know—this is how the clan world works. Being an orphan is a birth sin. No territory. No protector. That alone is enough reason to be destroyed.

Beep. A transfer notification appeared. Erick sent money. The price of one slap. Cheap for an Alpha. His voice message followed.

“I’ve reprimanded Mirelle. Go buy something.”

An old sentence. An old tone. Like tossing a bone to an injured wolf to keep it quiet.

“Thank you, Alpha Crownholt.”

I accepted the money. I deserved it. But I waited—foolishly—to see if he would ask about the attack. About how the car was destroyed. About how I was left inside while the fire began to consume the metal frame. About how I almost died… in his own territory.

Nothing.

I turned off my phone. Then I went to HR and submitted my resignation. Because I was only an intern—and not a clan member—the process was fast. Cold. Official.

Tomorrow is the thirteenth. That night, I will attend a meeting at the Thorneval Residence, a neutral territory, with Caelum Thorneval—an outsider Alpha known to be cruel but fair in agreements. If that deal succeeds… I can finally leave Silverfall Heights. Leave Crownholt territory. Get out of Erick’s reach. And this time—I swear on my own blood and bones—I will not look back.

After transferring the money to my personal account, I went straight to the Southern Clan Trade Center. A black stone building standing at the edge of neutral territory. A place where even enemies hold back their fangs—at least… on the surface.

“I want to see that bag,” I said, gathering the rest of my courage.

The shopkeeper—an old wolf with sharp eyes—glanced at me. “49,800.”

I smiled. Perfect. Exactly what I had. “I’ll take it.”

I sat down slowly. My leg was still throbbing—the result of being pinned under metal during the attack.

The shopkeeper’s attitude changed. Professional. Efficient. In this place, money holds more power than blood. When the bag passed into my hands, its weight felt real. But what surfaced wasn’t pride. It was irony.

In the display case, another bag caught my attention. Dark leather. Engraved with pack symbols.

“That one?” I asked.

“Limited edition. Territory display. Ownership requirements: high purchase accumulation, or special acquisition.”

I froze. I had seen that bag before. On Nathelia—along with her claim necklace. She stood in the chaos yesterday. Protected. Guarded. Prioritized. While I—was left in a burning car. Life is strange. Priceless. Yet cheap… in the right hands.

Back at my apartment on the edge of Silverfall Heights, I immediately listed the bag on the online marketplace. Brand new. Slightly lower price. It sold quickly. As soon as the funds came in, I transferred them to the orphanage director’s account. Forty thousand was enough to get through one winter.

After a hot shower, I stood in front of my wardrobe. Choosing what to wear tomorrow night. A meeting with Caelum Thorneval—an Alpha even major clans hesitate to provoke—demands one thing: I must not look weak.

The door opened. Without knocking. His scent arrived first. Alpha. Dominant. I clenched my jaw.

“Alpha Crownholt…”

“You resigned?” Erick stood in the doorway carrying a bag of fruit. As always, something small to make up for something big he never acknowledged.

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry about Mirelle. I’ve handled it.” His fingers pinched my cheek. Once gentle. Now—like marking something that was no longer his.

He pulled me to sit. “Still hurts?”

I shook my head.

“I spoke to clan HR. Your resignation is canceled. Take leave, come back anytime.” His tone was flat, like tossing crumbs to a hungry wolf.

Ever since he learned his sister led the humiliation against me at the clan academy, that pity had always come from above—never equal.

I took a breath. The words were heavy, but they had to come out. “You’re getting married… right?”

Erick fell silent. No answer.

I smiled, holding back the pain. “I won’t return to the tower. I’ll also move. Erick… let’s end this. I hope you’ll be happy with Miss Nathelia.”

I still have what remains of my dignity. I refuse to be a shadow.

“Are you picking a fight with me?” his brows furrowed.

“No.” My voice was thin.

He pulled me into an embrace, a calming motion that felt more like dominance. “Just stay for now. We’ll talk later, when the marriage actually happens.”

Casual. As if my wounds weren’t worth counting. Maybe from the beginning, I wasn’t human to him—just a territory of the night.

“About that accident…” he said. “Nathelia was frightened. She feels guilty for not checking on you.”

As he spoke, his hand slid along my waist—a habitual motion he liked. He had supported me since my teenage years; he made sure I ate properly, grew from bones that once knew hunger.

“Tomorrow night, Nathelia is hosting a family dinner. I’ll propose to her at home. Come early. Help out.”

Why—do I have to come and witness my own death?

My chest tightened. “Erick… I…”

POV Aderyn

Erick’s hand tugged my towel—his breath warm against the back of my neck. Cruel, I thought. He and his sister were the same. Both were used to taking without asking.

“I’m not coming.” I gently pushed him away and picked up the towel from the floor. My stomach churned. Besides, I had a meeting with Caelum tomorrow night.

“If you don’t come, Nat will get suspicious.” His voice cooled—an Alpha whose territory had been challenged. “She’s divorced and sensitive. I don’t want her getting any ideas about us.”

I stood upright, wrapping myself in the cloth. For the first time, I felt a boundary forming—thin, but real. Nat—for Nathelia. I felt a stab of jealousy at the way Erick said that woman’s name with a small, familiar nickname.

And tomorrow night, I would have to choose. Stay in Erick’s shadow—or step out of a territory that had never truly claimed me.

“You’re going to propose, and you want me to help your future Luna… Erick,” my voice broke, hoarse with emotions I could no longer hold back. “How are you any different from Mirelle? Why can you be this cruel to me?”

I wouldn’t swallow it again. Not tonight.

Erick’s face—Alpha Crownholt—darkened. His dominant aura crept out, pressing on my chest like invisible claws. He stared at me sharply.

“Still daring to say you’re not looking for trouble?”

My chest rose and fell. I could barely breathe. Whatever I wanted, he would never give it to me.

“Even if I don’t marry Nathelia,” he said coldly, without hesitation, “I will marry another woman. The daughter of Clan Cohen, or Hawthorne. An equal blood bond. But it will never be you. Understand?”

He made sure those words pierced down to the bone. I had no clan. No family. In the werewolf world, that was enough to pass judgment. For an Alpha like him, blood and lineage were everything. Accepting me all this time—even only as a shadow in his bed—was probably already considered his greatest generosity.

He would never give me his name. Never give me a place in the pack. I let out a soft, bitter laugh.

“I never expected you to marry me. I’m not that stupid… I always knew this would end.”

“Aderyn,” he said, his tone shifting like he was advising a cub. “You’re grown. Be realistic. As long as you behave, when all this is over, I won’t let you leave empty-handed.” He stepped closer. “Choose any house in Silverfall Heights. I’ll give you a car. Money. Anything.”

Charity from an Alpha. Not a partner. Not a bond.

“Come early tomorrow,” he added.

I swallowed. “I want to get married too, Erick.”

He stopped mid-step. For a moment, he turned and looked at me—as if for the first time hearing me speak about a wolf’s right.

“I’m serious,” I said. Tears finally fell, hot on my cheeks.

He sighed softly, as if tired. “Get some rest. I’ll consider this just a tantrum.”

His tone softened again—false. “When you’re truly ready to settle down, tell me. I’ll find you a suitable man from the company. Middle class. Stable.”

Generous. He was certain I would never get anything better. He could give me everything—except a pack bond and the Crownholt name.

When the door closed, I collapsed to the floor.

Four years. Four years I shared a bed with this Alpha. Now that it was over, he wanted to decide who would bind me next—a weak man who would be easy to control. Controlling my life. Controlling my marriage.

Erick was truly cruel. But it no longer mattered. I would meet Caelum Thorneval. Alpha Thorneval. The man whose territory even Erick was reluctant to disturb. If I married him, everything would end.

*

The next day — Thorneval Residence No. 1

All the billion-worth mansions in Silverfall Heights were built on Harborton Thorneval Estates land—territory guarded by old pack law. Erick’s house stood here. So did Caelum’s residence.

I had been to Erick’s house many times, as an intern assistant. But every visit always made the hairs on my neck stand up. Maybe because I was an orphan. I had always been obsessed with the word home.

The luxury apartment Erick gave me was not a home. It was a gilded cage—a place where an Alpha stored something that must not be seen.

Erick’s real home was here. And I would never be part of it.

“Aderyn has arrived.”

Nathelia welcomed me with a perfect smile. She stood comfortably in the heart of Crownholt territory—calm, entitled, like a Luna already destined.

“Nathelia, this is for you.” I handed her a homemade cake.

I used to bake for the orphanage children. It wasn’t worth much in clan coins—but it was full of sincerity. But in Nathelia’s world, sincerity never had a price.

Nathelia opened the box, then glanced at Erick. “Erick, didn’t I see the same cake in your car?”

The aura in the room shifted instantly. I knew what she was thinking. Erick thought I was deliberately provoking jealousy.

“I-I didn’t know…” I rushed to explain. “Lately Mr. Crownholt often skips breakfast. I made extra and left some in his office…”

My hands trembled. My depression always attacked through my body first.

“It seems Erick really likes your cake, Aderyn,” Nathelia said gently—sharply. “So much that he keeps it in his car.”

“I don’t like it,” Erick cut in coldly. “I probably threw it away. Felix must have taken it from the trash.”

Trash. My chest tightened. So the cake I made since dawn, burning my skin—in his eyes was just trash.

The message was clear.

Nathelia smiled and handed me disposable slippers. “Relax. Let me introduce you to my friends.”

I took them. Everyone else had proper house slippers prepared. One-time use. For a single visit. No more.

Erick saw it. He knew what that difference meant. And he stayed silent. His silence was permission.

“Let me introduce you,” Nathelia said cheerfully. “This is Erick’s assistant. A pretty girl.”

I bowed politely—then looked up. The world froze. Six people sat in the living room. Three of them… faces from my old hell.

Mirelle Crownholt. Rufrik Blackmaw. Camreth Meyer. The wolves who once hunted me when I had no pack. My body trembled. I turned to Erick, desperately asking for help with my eyes.

Maybe Nathelia didn’t know my past. But Erick? He knew. He knew Nathelia had invited them. And he still forced me to come.

In the middle of Alpha territory, surrounded by bullies, without pack protection—I could only ask myself: Does he want me dead?

POV Aderyn

Erick deliberately avoided my gaze.

As Alpha Crownholt, all he had to do was shift his shoulder slightly and throw a single warning look at Mirelle. That would have been enough to assert the hierarchy. But he didn’t. He simply turned and disappeared into his study—his private territory—leaving me alone in the middle of a clearly hostile pack.

He was punishing me. He was convinced I had brought those cakes to provoke his chosen Luna. In Alpha logic, a mistake like that deserved to be repaid with neglect.

Mirelle grinned. Camreth and Rufrik laughed along. Their laughter was not human—sharp, low, like the sound of wolves who had found prey separated from its pack.

“Sit down, Aderyn.” Nathelia smiled sweetly, waving her hand as if calling a puppy.

But I couldn’t move. My legs felt as if they were planted into the marble floor of Crownholt territory. The air around me pressed in, filled with dominance pheromones that dragged my old memories back—being caged, humiliated, destroyed.

“Nathelia, isn’t this Aderyn?” Rufrik grinned, his eyes gleaming hungrily. “Our former campus queen.”

Nathelia looked pleased. “Oh? You were in the same pack in college?” she said cheerfully. “That’s good, then you must get along.”

We did not get along. I was prey. One word screamed in my head: run.

“Nathelia…” my voice trembled. “I-I just remembered I have something to take care of at home. I have to go. Sorry—”

I turned and ran for the door, survival instinct taking over. But a few steps later, my legs gave out. The world spun, and I crashed to the floor.

“Let’s escort our old friend out,” Mirelle said, her voice sweet and lethal.

I wanted to get up. I really did. But my body froze—not just because of them, but because of everything they had ever done to me. Old trauma bound my muscles tighter than silver chains.

“Why?” Rufrik grabbed the back collar of my shirt and lifted me like a deer carcass. “Can’t stand up? Our campus queen isn’t going to wet herself again, right?”

My deaf left ear rang with pain. I lowered my head, teeth chattering, trying to break free. But I knew—fighting back would only excite them more.

“Erick is getting married,” he said with a grin. “To my sister. So explain—how should we punish a packless female who dares to seduce our Alpha?”

He dragged me toward the door. I knew Rufrik. He never needed a reason. On the first day of college orientation—he saw me, wanted me, and I rejected him. Publicly. In the wolf world, that was a challenge. From that day on, my life became hell.

He stripped me. Took photos. Burned my skin with cigarettes. He ordered Mirelle and Camreth to beat me. They locked me in a wooden crate. Forced me to sleep in public toilets. And every time I fought back, they threatened the orphanage.

I was the only orphanage kid who made it into university. Their last hope. I could not be expelled. I could not die.

“Say something!” Camreth kicked me until I fell to the ground. “Why are you playing mute? Your Alpha has already thrown you away! And that rotten orphanage? We can shut it down anytime!”

I lay in the grass, wiping dirt from my arm. These clothes… I still had to wear them tonight. To meet Caelum. I wanted to look presentable. Funny. Now that sounded impossible.

“What, now you’re deaf and mute too?” Camreth slapped me hard.

A house servant passed by. Saw. Then left. This territory had already made its decision: I was allowed to be hurt. But I stayed silent. I did not beg. I did not scream. I just sat there, taking blow after blow.

Once, Rufrik had asked, “What do you think about when you’re being beaten?”

I didn’t answer. What I really always thought was the same: Maybe I should just die. Take all of you with me. Killing you wouldn’t be hard.

But I always stopped myself. Because if I died, who would feed the orphanage kids? For years, Erick gave me an extra card. But what could I buy? That forty-thousand-dollar bag was the most reckless thing I had ever done. During college, I worked three part-time jobs every day. Every cent went back to the orphanage.

“Damn. You’re boring,” Rufrik muttered, leaning against the wall while smoking.

Mirelle glanced at him. “Erick doesn’t want her anymore. You’ve been eyeing her for a long time—just take her.”

Rufrik’s eyes lit up, then he laughed. “Damaged goods. What’s the point?”

I stood up. I didn’t look at them. I walked straight to the door.

“What the hell? Is she looking to die?” Camreth exploded.

They were used to being worshiped. My defiance—silent and walking away—made them furious. Erick would propose today. But he still called me here. That was unspoken permission.

Camreth ran and kicked me from behind. My body flew—straight into the ornamental pool. November. The water was as cold as death. I clawed my way out, shivering. Water and tears mixed.

“Enough.” Erick finally came out.

I knew why. Not because of me—but because he didn’t want Nathelia to see any further. He knew exactly what they were doing, but he chose to protect his chosen Luna. He chose his love.

Nathelia followed, shocked. “Aderyn! How could you fall into the pool?”

“She fell on her own,” Camreth stammered.

I looked at Erick. I said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I’m going home.”

“Aderyn…” he called, his Adam’s apple moving. He almost stepped forward—then stopped. Remembering Nathelia. “I’ll have someone take you.”

I smiled for the last time. “No, thank you.”

I swore—this was the last time I would look at him with love. As I left, soaked and humiliated, Erick felt his chest tighten. His Alpha instinct whispered something he didn’t understand. He would regret it.

*

At the Thorneval Residence

I didn’t have time to change clothes. Fortunately, Thorneval territory wasn’t far from the Crownholt estate. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived.

I first met Caelum Thorneval at the most exclusive club in Silverfall Heights—where Alphas discussed territory and power. That day, Erick was hosting Harborton tycoons. Caelum was one of them. I delivered Erick’s suit. And Caelum saw me.

From pack gossip, my face matched all his tastes exactly. In front of Erick, Caelum asked for my number. Erick didn’t object. Caelum was an Alpha he didn’t want to make an enemy of.

Caelum invited me to dinner. I refused. He offered a contract marriage. I panicked and blocked him. Now—Caelum Thorneval was my only lifeline. I didn’t want protection forever. I just wanted to borrow his power—to grow my own fangs and claws.

I wanted to earn my own money. Enough to feed the orphanage children. And for the first time… to step out of Alpha Crownholt’s reach.

Now I stood in front of this luxurious, magnificent house, not knowing what future awaited me beyond those doors. Death or freedom?