The Billionaire Alpha's Rejected Mate

anyone foolish enough to run in heels. But Emily Reed didn't care about the rain, or the cold seeping into her thre

all white stick tucked

pink

yan Evans's arm. The human girl. The weak link. In a world dominated by powerful bloodlines and old money, Emily was

n whose face graced the cover of Forbes and whose pre

storm, needing to hear it aloud. "A

named Marcus who usually greeted her with a warm nod, was absent. In his place stood a st

three-year anniversary. Ryan had told her to come up to the penthouse suite, the priv

ely going to her flat stomach. She wasn't just a poor human girl anymore. She was the mother of a billionaire's

ftly, opening directly

candles Ryan loved. Instead, the air was thick with a heavy, musk-like scent. It

he called

inced at the sound, bending down to toe them off. As she straightened, her eyes

ed d

signer, and shredded at the seams as

mach, extinguishing the warmth of her earlier excitement. She took

k. Turn ar

uldn't. She

woman's voice purred. It was a voice Emily recognized instantly. Claire Johnson. The daughter of a rival billionaire,

Claire," Ryan'

g I've waited to c

al

in the air, sh

shed the

d around two bodies. Ryan, her Ryan, was hovering over Claire, his back muscles rippling in the dim light. But there w

saw he

cruel, triumphant curving of red lips. She tapped Ryan on the sh

Emily. For a second, he looked monstrous. Then he blinked

sat up, raking a hand through his disheveled hair, and looked at Emi

arly," he

utched her purse. The pregnancy test felt heavy, like a stone. "Why?"

t her waist, exposing the perfect, unmarked skin of her chest. "Oh, you

ood up, walking naked toward the dresser to grab a pair of silk boxers.

into a searing, white-hot anger. "I've given you three yea

ooked at her with a chilling detachment. "I cared for you, Emily. In a way. You were... conve

She felt like sh

re and the Pack, I need a Luna. A partner with power. With bloodlines." He gestured to Claire, who was now sauntering toward him,

finally spilling over, hot and sting

ng her chin on Ryan's shoulder. "Wolves don't need

ol

nces during the full moon. She had dismissed the rumors of "shifters" and "packs" as urban legends or metaphors for the r

're one of them

dropping an octave, vibrating in her chest

oorframe to steady herself. This was the man she ha

e b

racked the movement. His gaze sharpened, narrowing

hat followed w

tep toward Emily, his expression shifting from indifference to somet

mmering against her ribs like a

wasn't a request. It was an ord

ut, the words torn from her th

to her mouth. "A half-breed? S

a fleeting second, Emily hoped. Maybe, just maybe, the instinct of fatherho

d, pleading. "It's yo

of it,"