
Rejected Omega, Billionaire Heiress
Aurora · Ongoing · 99.8k Words
Introduction
For three years, Dorothy Miller endured her cold marriage to Alpha Darius Silverclaw—used, neglected, and nothing more than a blood donor for his beloved Sophia.
But when the truth finally shattered her heart, the once obedient Omega walked away.
And this time, she didn’t look back.
Returning to the powerful Blackwood Wolf Pack as its hidden heiress, Dorothy is no longer the fragile girl who begged for love. She's rising—with power, purpose, and a heart no longer easy to claim.
But Darius is not ready to let her go. Not now. Not when he finally realizes she was the only one who ever truly mattered.
Now the Alpha wants her back—but the Omega he once rejected might just become the Luna he doesn’t deserve.
Betrayal, revenge, and redemption collide in this sizzling werewolf romance. Will Dorothy choose love—or rise alone to claim everything that was meant to be hers?
Chapter 1
The words flickering on the phone screen were like sharp blades, each message piercing precisely into the depths of my heart.
“Isolde was taken to the territory clinic. She needs a blood binding. You know your duty. Come to Valebrook Clinic now.”
“Where are you, Dorothy? You're late. Fifteen minutes.”
“If you're going to complain about the arrangement, the compensation has been increased to $100,000. Check your account.”
“Dorothy Miller, Twenty minutes. No more. A pact doesn’t bend to excuses.”
I scrolled through Darius's messages, my fingers trembling as knuckles turned pale.
His voice always came wrapped in winter. No warmth, just ice and order.These weren't messages from a caring mate—these were commands, the kind an Alpha issued to a subordinate wolf.
Our arrangement wasn’t love—it was a hierarchy. He ruled. I complied.He barely touched me when we shared a room; he never let our scents mingle outside of necessity.
He reminded me of this constantly, at any time and any place.
The fact that I'd stepped into the healing den three times already this moon cycle, offering up blood and strength, After every blood donation, my body was extremely weak, unable to withstand any additional harm. Yet, all of this meant nothing to Darius.
“Suck it up. A pact is a pact.” That's what he always said.
To Alpha Darius Silverclaw,I was not his luna - just an accessory asset to the woman he deeply loved, a resource kept to sustain that relationship. I was not worthy of any of his needs beyond money.
When he wasn't busy ruling over the pack's affairs, he was at Isolde's side.
Isolde, Darius's partner, was also the reason I entered their relationship due to her accident.
Three years ago, Isolde needed an emergency transfusion, and the wolf elders saw an opportunity: preserve the blood, secure the power, strike a pact.
And here I was.
“You want to be my chosen mate?”
In the antiseptic tang of the pack's makeshift hospital, I'd met Darius's cold gaze. Even surrounded by the wolf kin, the world faded down to the timber of his voice and the weight of his demand.
I kept my chin high, answering with a silent nod.
He spoke, deep and unmistakable. “We'll mate for the sake of the pack. But you're her donor first. If Isolde needs you, you come.I'll make sure you're taken care of. Financially.”
I'd said yes, thinking I was securing a future. - My arrogance made me firmly believe that I could withstand the influence of the bond between them and become Darius's true lover.
But three years have passed, and every time Isolde was injured, I had to become her blood supply and appear by her side.My body, her reserve tank. My life, her backup plan.
This had to end. I had to leave, cutting off this toxic relationship with my own hands.
I stood up, got into the car, and my phone received another message. I tapped my phone and brought up a photo: it was sent to me, unsigned but unmistakable.
Even at rest, Darius looked like something dreamed up by nature for the purest display of predatory power. His features were all sharp lines and harsh beauty; the type of man whose mouth—firm as it was—could have been carved for softness, though I'd never tasted it.
His eyes, burnished brown and slicing right through you, reminded every wolf of who ruled this pack. Jet-black lashes, short-cropped sable hair, and a jawline of cold marble. The first time I saw him, my heart gave that traitorous leap that comes from hope. And each time, it still did.
We never shared a bed, but now and then when the doors were ajar and the moonlight was kind, I caught a glimpse of him—broad shoulders open,heavy with muscle beneath tailored shirts.
But it wasn't that image that held me spellbound now.
No, it was because Isolde pressed her head to his shoulder. Darius sat in an old maroon chair, legs sprawled, arms crossed, eyes closed, every inch the Alpha at rest. Isolde, lips curved just so, looked victorious even in slumber.
And I knew she sent this, along with the taunting message:
“We're perfectly matched! You should step aside. A true Alpha deserves his fated mate—not some interloper.”
I flicked to my camera, staring at my own reflection. Isolde wasn't wrong. I was pale, lips faded to ash. There was a hollowness under my eyes where sleep should have lived, a fatigue that blood loss alone couldn't explain. Every time I gave to Isolde, I seemed to lose a piece of myself.
Is that why Darius never looked my way for anything but obligations?
Isolde was all curves and heat, lips bitten scarlet, eyes thick-lashed and deep.Me? I looked like the shadow in the corner, always watching, never belonging.
Let them embrace each other.
When the car stopped in the hospital driveway, I immediately opened the door, jumped out, and walked towards Isolde's hospital room.
The front door of the pack house burst open, the scent hitting me before I saw him—pine, earth, and that distinctive Alpha musk that made my inner wolf instinctively lower her head. Darius strode inside, swift and sure, that rare suit cut perfectly to his tall frame. The feral grace of an Alpha—impossible not to notice, impossible not to feel, even as he loomed over me.
When he spotted me in the living room, annoyance flickered in those burnished brown eyes. It intensified to fury when he noted the iPhone clutched in my trembling hand.
"Your phone works," he said, voice clipped and icy."Why the hell didn't you answer my texts or calls? The pack's healers are waiting."
I breathed in his scent, committing his striking features to memory. The sharp jawline, the intense eyes that could command submission with a glance, the powerful shoulders tensed with barely controlled anger. This would probably be the last time we stood this close together.
He didn't hesitate, crossing the distance to grab my wrist, his grip strong but impersonal. “You're needed at the clinic. Now.”
“I know.” My voice barely registered over the pounding in my temples. I dug my heels in, anchoring myself with one arm hooked on the couch. I wasn't ready to be dragged out one more time—not while everything inside me screamed for something different.
Darius's lips twisted. “Then why are you still standing here?”
My heart thundered. I remembered the old pack legends—stories of wolves who chose to bite back, even when their place in the hierarchy demanded silence. I wondered in that instant, could I do that? Just once?
I did.
"I'll go to the clinic. I'll give blood," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "But there's one thing I need from you first."
"Money? It's already been transferred to your account." Darius thrust both hands into his pockets, his stance radiating impatience. "Check it."
“It's not about money.” My words came out brittle, emotion held at bay by pure force of will.
“Then what?” The Alpha tone sharpened. “You're wasting everybody's time. Say what you want.”
"I want to break our bound," I said, my icy tone matching his. "I want a divorce."
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Last Updated: 11/20/2025
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