The Defective Omega's Six Perfect Alphas

I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion. Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed. "Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies." I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor. Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel. Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out. I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years. He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back. Or so he thought. In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling. I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison. "You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back." I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use. "I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge." I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared.

I was running barefoot through a slick, rainy New York alley, chased by my foster parents' hired muscle and a swarm of bloodthirsty paparazzi. They had just sold me to a repulsive pig, Dusty Stephenson, in exchange for a lucrative family business deal. When I refused to be their puppet and escaped my own engagement gala, they didn't even bother to cancel the event. Instead, they found a cheap lookalike imposter to stand on stage in my place. Through the ballroom doors, I watched the fake "Eleanor Nash" smiling next to Dusty, accepting the applause of hundreds of oblivious guests. My foster parents were happily sealing their corrupt deal, stealing my identity to force the marriage through public opinion. When my best friend Arlie crashed the party to expose the fraud, Dusty's mother viciously ordered the security guards to grab her. How could the people who raised me be so completely ruthless? They treated my life like a disposable commodity, and when I wouldn't play along, they simply replaced me to keep their disgusting lie alive. I couldn't just hide in the shadows and let them destroy my name. I pushed open the heavy ballroom doors, walked straight through the stunned crowd in my ruined, damp dress, and stared them down. "I am the real Eleanor Nash. And in three days, I will expose this entire conspiracy."

I was known as the "wolfless," ugly, and stupid Omega of the Stonefang Pack, treated worse than a stray dog by my own family. That miserable life ended when my sweet, perfect cousin Cassidy handed me a cup of tea. It was a paralyzing poison, and soon after drinking it, I was dragged into the deep woods and thrown into a freezing stream to drown. The toxic brew left my face disfigured with hideous blotches. I almost died in that water, nearly strangled by a cursed, berserk Alpha King who was losing his mind. I only survived by awakening a dormant Psychic Imprint left by my mother, forcing me to forcefully kiss the Alpha to siphon his energy just to keep my organs from shutting down. As my mind finally cleared, I realized the "feeble-mindedness" I suffered my whole life wasn't natural. It was their poison, a slow drip meant to keep me docile while they stole my legacy. Why did my own blood want me dead so badly? Dragging my broken body back to the pack estate, I found them draped in black, holding a lavish memorial service for my "tragic accident." Cassidy was at the altar, shedding fake, heartbreaking tears. I kicked the heavy oak doors open, stepping into the light with my ruined face and a stolen silver dagger. "Starting my memorial without the guest of honor? How rude."

For two years, Everleigh Conway hid from her billionaire husband, building her own company and raising her little boy in peace. Then, Brice Mckinney found her. He trapped her in the back of his Maybach and threw a DNA test onto the leather seat. It showed a zero percent probability of paternity. "You disappeared for two years to have another man's child?" he growled, his eyes burning with cold fury. Before she could explain his mistake, Brice launched a ruthless war against her. He used his massive corporate empire to blacklist her agency. Overnight, every client canceled. Her investors vanished. He was systematically starving her business to death, cornering her into bankruptcy just to force her back into her cage as his obedient trophy wife. "Come back," he demanded, "and we can pretend that boy doesn't exist." Everleigh felt a suffocating wave of injustice. He dared to accuse her of betrayal? He dared to demand reasons for why she ran? He had spent their entire marriage ignoring her, rushing to the side of his childhood sweetheart at every turn, treating Everleigh like a mere asset in his portfolio. Refusing to be his victim again, Everleigh agreed to meet him one last time. Instead of surrendering, she slid a grainy photograph across the table. It showed Brice in Paris, gently caressing his sweetheart's face. "You want a reason?" Everleigh said coldly. "This was taken the exact day I was in the hospital, having a surgery for our miscarried child."

For five years in London, I held onto the Carlisle patriarch's promise: when I returned, Ethan and I would finally get married. But when I rushed into Ethan's arms at the airport, his phone rang, and everything shattered. "Just picking up my sister," he cooed to the woman on the other end. He didn't take me home. He drove straight to his girlfriend, Morgan, letting her passionately kiss him right in front of me. At my welcome party, Morgan deliberately rigged a game of Truth or Dare to publicly humiliate me. She forced Ethan to choose between his girlfriend and his "ward" of a sister. Under the flashing club lights, the man who had chased away every guy I ever talked to just sat there, letting his friends tear me apart as a pathetic joke. I didn't understand. If I was just a sister, why did he call me every night? Why did he spend years giving me false hope, only to trample on my dignity so casually? Standing outside the club, shivering and utterly disillusioned, I made my choice. I turned my back on Ethan and walked straight toward Damien Carlisle—the ruthless, terrifying family CEO everyone feared. "I want to work in your department," I told him. I was done being their fragile little ornament. It was time to build an empire of my own.

In our beast world, females are treated as nothing more than precious breeding stock to keep the pack strong. As the pack's best Mender, I spent all my time focusing on my healing herbs, completely ignoring my maturity ritual. But tonight, the blind pack elder grabbed my wrist and delivered a chilling ultimatum. If I don't choose my mates by the next Full Moon, the Council of Elders will force a match and assign them to me. The threat is already suffocating. Arrogant, elite warriors like Caleb Quinn are pacing outside my door like starving wolves, stalking my porch and using pack business to corner me. At home, the reality of multiple mates is even worse. My mother has two mates—my father, the strongest Alpha, and my cold, intellectual step-father. Their toxic, murderous jealousy turns our house into a daily war zone. They literally unleash suffocating killing intent on innocent cubs just for hugging my mother. I am disgusted by this sick, possessive obsession. I refuse to let my life become a battlefield of jealous males fighting over who gets to guard my door, and I absolutely refuse to be forced into a harem by the Elders. So, I made a declaration that shocked my entire family and broke every pack tradition. "I will only ever take one mate." And to make sure none of those predatory warriors can touch me, I set an impossible trap. "Whoever wants me must defeat my father first."