Alpha's Rejected becomes the Lycan's Obsession

Chapter 164: Fragile and completely useless

I went about my daily activities that day without the enthusiasm and energy I usually carried. Every movement I made felt like a chore, and each step was heavier than the last.

The brightness that used to accompany my mornings had vanished, replaced by a bleak, shadowy haze that seemed to trail me wherever I went. I was merely existing. My thoughts refused to stay quiet. They circled endlessly around the same truth, that my future now looked bleak and uncertain.

’What happens now? What if he rejects me? No! Don’t think about that. It won’t happen. Maybe he was in a bad mood?’ These thoughts didn’t cease to repeat themselves in my mind.

Salana was hurt, but she tried her best to reassure me. To make me stop brooding on only negative outcomes.

But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t eliminate the thoughts. noveldrama

Even though Jorell was my mate, I knew I could not simply walk up to him. My heart longed for it, my soul craved it, but reality was far too cruel to permit something so reckless.

Jorell was the Alpha’s son, a man born of strength, power, and authority, someone groomed for leadership and reverence. And I was an Omega. A cleaner. The lowest rank in the pack hierarchy. If I wanted to see him, truly see him and talk to him as I do wanted, I would need a legitimate reason, one that could justify my presence before someone like him.

But the idea of declaring myself as his mate was completely out of the question. That would only bring humiliation. The memory of him walking away earlier, refusing to acknowledge our bond, played on a loop in my mind. It was clear that if I made that claim publicly, I would only embarrass myself. There was no mistake in the coldness of his retreat.

By the time noon arrived, I had made my way to the large garage of the Pack House. My current task was to clean it thoroughly, and it was one of the more laborious chores I was assigned.

The structure was massive, housing several vehicles and stretching wide with open space. I wouldn’t normally be doing anything in this part of the building, but because of the coronation, which will be coming up in a few days, and a shortage of staff, I was assigned this duty.

I focused on dusting the far end of the garage when I suddenly felt it—that scent. It rushed into my nostrils so fiercely it was as if I had been yanked underwater. My knees wobbled, my fingers trembled around the duster in my hand. The scent was overwhelming and divine, equal parts comfort and torment.

I turned slowly, my senses already confirming what my eyes were about to see. And there he was.

He stood at the entrance of the garage, tall and regal, his posture radiating authority and confidence, and his eyes set intently on me. He did not say anything. He simply watched me. Then, without a word, he began to walk toward me, each step deliberate, his gaze never leaving mine.

The air around me grew heavier with every inch he closed between us. My heart raced violently in my chest, my breathing grew shallow. His presence was both intoxicating and terrifying.

When he finally stood before me, he looked at me with an expression that left me even more confused. His eyes carried a mixture of conflicting emotions. It almost looked like admiration, maybe even the early flickers of affection, but it was clouded with something darker—hostility, disdain, perhaps even disappointment.

Being this close to him was wreaking havoc inside me. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and helpless. But alongside all those emotions, there was excitement. A thrill. A hunger. I did not know which one to lean into, so I froze, unable to choose. He was driving me insane with just his scent, and despite the harshness in his gaze, I found myself yearning for his touch, craving the completion of the bond our souls had already acknowledged.

Then he spoke.

"I finally found my mate, but she turns out to be a weak little Omega," he said, his voice low and devoid of any trace of warmth or gentleness.

The words cut into me like a blade. I blinked, shocked by the cruelty and the rejection embedded in his tone. A weak little omega. The way he said it, like I was something to be ashamed of, something that disgusted him, made my chest tighten. I was angry. Not just because of what he said, but because he was wrong. I might be an Omega, but I was not weak.

Salana, my wolf, was anything but weak. She was a silver wolf, a rare gift, a force. Silver wolves were known not only for their strength but for their connection to magical abilities. I had worth. I had power.

I needed to say something in my defense. I needed to tell him he was wrong about me.

So I opened my mouth and said, "Alpha—"

But Jorell immediately silenced me. He raised his hand and his tone shifted sharply, laced with anger.

"Who gave you permission to speak in my presence?" he demanded.

My words died in my throat, swallowed by fear. I clamped my mouth shut and looked away, ashamed and humiliated. My lips trembled, but I held them together. I knew better than to challenge him now.

The moment he said those words, a smile appeared on his face. But it was not a smile of joy. It carried no kindness. It was the smile of a man who knew he had power and enjoyed displaying it.

He stepped closer and I unintentionally held my breath, afraid I’ll make him even more mad if I breath wrong.

Every nerve in my body went on high alert. I could feel the raw power radiating off him. He could kill me in an instant if he wanted to. Mate or not. And that terrified me.

Then he reached out and grabbed my chin.

His hand was firm, his grip unrelenting, but despite the pressure, my skin erupted in tingles. My body reacted before my mind could catch up. His touch ignited something in me, something primal, something that belonged to the bond.

"How cruel of the Moon Goddess to make my life even more difficult than it already is," Jorell muttered, and the words, though not directly meant to hurt, stung nonetheless.

He examined my face again, his expression shifting only slightly.

"So beautiful," he said slowly, "yet so fragile and completely useless."

I did not get the chance to process those words before he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

The kiss was not gentle, neither was it tender.

It was claiming. It was punishing. It was overwhelming.

My eyes fluttered shut as the world tilted. His lips moved against mine, forceful but addictive. It was the first time I had ever been kissed, and despite everything—his earlier words, the danger—my body melted into the kiss. This was the moment I had dreamed of for so long. The moment I had imagined would be filled with love, acceptance, safety. This was not what I had envisioned, but it still felt like my whole being had come alive.

His hand slipped from my chin and traveled down to my waist. He pulled me closer, eliminating the space between us. His hand continued upward, slowly, tracing the curve of my side until it found its destination. He cupped one of my breasts and squeezed gently.

A soft and involuntary moan escaped me.

The sound seemed to jolt him. His body tensed. The other hand on my waist tightened, and for a second, I thought he might pull me closer again. But instead, he stepped back. He tore himself away from me with a look of realization in his eyes. His chest rose and fell rapidly as if he had just remembered where we were.

We were in the garage. A place open and easily accessible. Anyone could walk in and see us. And although we didn’t know it yet, someone had already walked in, but we didn’t catch the scent because of how intoxicated we were with our scents.

"Fuck!" He cussed under his breath, lustful eyes still on my dazed form. "Nobody must know about this. Nobody, I mean absolutely nobody must know that you are my mate. Got it?"

I stared at him, too stunned to speak. My heart shattered at his words, but part of me still clung to the hope from earlier. I did not know whether to dwell on the cruelty in his voice or to hold on to the memory of the kiss.

So I nodded, three times.

Not because I agreed.

But because I did not know what else to do.

"Your mate?" a voice echoed from the entrance. It was loud and sharp, slicing through the air, and we both froze.

It was Lisa, Jorell’s chosen mate.