I Reject You

Alanna's POV:

"Renounce your claim as my mate."

Brannon Hoffman's Alpha aura crashed over me like a wave, dominance meant to drive any Omega to her knees. My legs shook, but I lifted my chin and answered, "And if I refuse?"

The study went still. The air was thick with the scent of old books, leather, and the sharp, clean smell of cedar that clung to him. It was the scent I had breathed in for five years in my past life, the scent that had followed me to my death.

He sat behind a massive mahogany desk like a judge about to pass sentence. His handsome face was a mask of cold impatience, his tailored black uniform screaming his status as the heir to the Hoffman Pack.

"You know about Elenore's condition," he continued, his tone void of any warmth. Elenore Gay—the daughter of a minor Pack's Beta, a woman of no rank or mate-bond to her name—had somehow become the center of my husband's world. "The Moon Sickness is consuming her. The doctors say she needs the bond of a powerful Alpha to have any chance of survival."

I listened silently. There was no storm in my chest, no frantic pounding of my heart. The Alanna of my past would have been shattered by these words, her world crumbling. But the woman standing here now only felt a bitter irony. Moon Sickness? A lie so flimsy even a third-rate Pack healer could see through it.

He saw my silence as the same old submission. His tone softened, laced with a condescending superiority. "I know this is unfair to you. But as an Alpha, I have a duty to protect my Pack, and the people most important to me. I need you... to voluntarily renounce your claim as my official mate."

He paused, delivering what he thought was a merciful blow. "You can still remain in the Pack as my second. I'll ensure you and your family are cared for."

I lifted my head, truly seeing him for the first time without the fog of love. He was handsome, powerful, and profoundly selfish. His brown eyes held no guilt, only a fanatical devotion to Elenore and a self-righteous satisfaction in his own "great sacrifice."

My hands didn't tremble. My breath didn't catch. I ran my thumb over the small, faint scar on my right index finger, a relic from my work restoring ancient artifacts. It was my only comfort in my last life, and the source of my strength in this one.

"No," I said. The word was soft, but it cut through the heavy air.

Brannon's brow furrowed. Surprise, then annoyance, flickered across his face. "What did you say?" His voice turned to ice, the oppressive weight of his Alpha aura pressing down on me.

My legs trembled; a cold sweat broke across my back. Every wolf's instinct should have bowed me, but I had no inner wolf to obey, and that hollow emptiness—the very flaw he so despised—was what kept my spine straight.

I met his gaze, my own clear and steady. "I said, no. I will not voluntarily renounce my claim, and I will certainly not be your second."

His cold impatience cracked, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features before it hardened into raw fury. "Alanna Cruz! Don't be a fool! You're a wolfless Omega. Without me, you are nothing!" His roar echoed in the room, making my ears ring.

Wolfless. No inner wolf, no mind-link. It was my greatest "flaw" as an Omega, the reason he had always looked down on me. The old me had shrunk into nothingness under that word.