The Billionaire Alpha Save Me

Hannah POV.

The music pulsed through my veins, the bass pounding in time with the ache in my chest. Each beat seemed to echo the emptiness Zack left behind. I stumbled, catching myself with a laugh that was too loud, even to my ears. The tequila was working overtime, numbing the hollow ache where my heart had been.

Zack-my mate. No, my ex. He'd looked me in the eyes tonight and said it, plain and cruel: You're not enough.

Just like that, everything I thought I knew about love, loyalty, and destiny crumbled into nothing.

All I ever asked for was a mate.

They gave me one-but it was just a trial.

Now the rejection was consuming me, eating me alive from the inside out.

Why did he even choose me in the first place, only to leave me for her? She's everything I'm not: high-ranking, perfect, powerful. Me? I'm just Hannah Revildale, a 23-year-old Omega-a nobody in this pack. Low-ranked, forgettable, painfully ordinary.

I threw my arms in the air, letting the rhythm of the music take over, pretending I didn't care. Maybe if I danced hard enough, and drank enough, I could outrun the bitterness clawing at my chest. The flashing lights blurred faces into streaks of pink and blue, the colors spinning in a chaotic swirl. Was this freedom or just a drunken mess? I didn't know anymore.

As I spun, I caught sight of someone watching me. A man leaned against the bar, his dark eyes locked onto mine. My stomach twisted-not unpleasantly-but whether it was the alcohol or his gaze, I couldn't tell. His faint smirk held a knowing edge like he'd already unraveled me and found me wanting.

I tore my eyes away and threw myself back into the music. I didn't need another judgmental stare tonight. But when I twirled too fast and stumbled into a stranger, I felt strong hands steady me before I could hit the floor.

"You okay?" a deep voice asked, calm and steady, cutting through the chaos around us.

I looked up-and my breath hitched. It was him. The man from the bar. Up close, he was even more striking: sharp, chiseled features and broad shoulders, with an air of self-assured confidence that made him seem entirely out of place here.

And his scent... why the hell did he smell expensive?

"I'm fine," I slurred, waving him off even though I was anything but. "Fine."

He raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed. "Sure you are."

My pride flared. I narrowed my eyes. "What, you here to play hero or something?"

"Not really," he said with a shrug, his tone maddeningly calm. "Just figured I'd save you from face-planting in front of everyone."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I rolled my eyes, masking my embarrassment. "I don't need your help. I already lost myself tonight."

"Lost yourself, huh?" He tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Well, you're doing a great impression of a walking tequila commercial gone wrong."

I wanted to fire back, but the alcohol had dulled my wit. Instead, I burst out laughing. It wasn't funny-not really-but something about his bluntness cracked me up. Or maybe it was the fact that he wasn't looking at me with pity, the way everyone else did.

"I'm Hannah," I blurted out, sticking out my hand like this was some kind of business deal.

He looked at my hand for a moment before shaking it. "Reigo."

The name tickled something at the back of my mind, but I couldn't place it. Instead, I grinned at him. "Well, Reigo, you're not bad at catching drunk girls."

"And you're not bad at making a scene," he shot back, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Before I could respond, a sharp, angry voice sliced through the music.

"Reigo!"

The sound echoed in my ears, sharp and grating. I turned, wobbling slightly, to see a woman storming toward us. Her heels clicked loudly against the floor, her perfect hair and makeup untouched by the chaos of the club. She looked like she belonged on a magazine cover-or maybe in the middle of a murder scene.

"What the hell is this?" she spat, glaring between Reigo and me as though I had personally offended her by existing.

"Shania," Reigo said, his voice instantly cooling. "This isn't the time or place."

"Oh, it's the perfect time," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "You've been ignoring me for weeks, and now I find you here with... her?" She gestured toward me like I was gum stuck to her designer heels.

I blinked, caught off guard by the venom in her voice.

"You cheated," Reigo said flatly, his tone so low I almost didn't hear him over the music.

Shania's face flushed, though I couldn't tell if it was from anger or shame. "Don't twist this-"

"I don't need to," he interrupted his voice like ice. "You did that all on your own. Now leave."

The tension between them was suffocating, and I suddenly felt like I didn't belong here. I took a step back, but Reigo's hand caught my arm, his grip gentle but firm.

"You. Stay," he said quietly, his gaze fixed on Shania.

Shania opened her mouth, but Reigo pulled out his phone and held it up. Whatever was on the screen made her freeze.

"Where did you get that?" she hissed, her voice trembling.

"My trust is in my friend this time, not in you," Reigo said, his voice like steel. "Make sure your next man is worth the betrayal."

Her face crumpled, but she recovered quickly, her voice rising in disbelief. "You seriously believe that garbage? Edited photos-"

"Enough," he cut her off. "Leave. Or I'll make you."

Her expression wavered, and then, with a furious huff, she spun on her heel and stormed away, her clicking footsteps fading into the crowd.

I stared at him for a long moment. "Well, that was... dramatic."

Reigo turned back to me, his smirk returning. "Welcome to my life."

I laughed, though I still felt a little shaky. "Looks like we're both having a rough night."

"You could say that."

I tilted my head, studying him. "So, what's your deal? Angry exes, drinking alone... You don't exactly scream 'life of the party.'"

"And you don't exactly scream 'stable,'" he shot back, his tone light but pointed.

"Touché."

He studied me for another moment, then shook his head. "You're done here. Let's get you out before you make this night worse."

I should've been offended, but I wasn't. Instead, I let him guide me out of the club, the cool night air hitting me like a splash of cold water.

As we walked, I glanced up at him, the warmth of his hand on my arm oddly reassuring. "You're not so bad for a guy with a messy love life."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "And you're not so bad for a drunk train wreck."

I stole another glance at him, my heart skipping a beat. What's with this guy? Handsome, confident... perfect. You don't just stumble into men like him at a club. I was drunk, sure, but even I could see it.

He might be a troublemaker. But maybe trouble was exactly what I needed tonight.