The White Wolf's Secret Comatose Alpha Mate

Beatrix POV:

I pushed open the half-closed carved wooden door to my fiancé Cheyenne Boone's private villa, and the cloying, sweet scent of an Omega in the middle of The Heat slammed into my nose.

Immediately afterward, I saw that, at the far end of the corridor, two naked bodies were entwined on the leather sofa. A woman was beneath Cheyenne, her clothes half undone, her soft moans echoing through the empty hall. My fists clenched before I realized it. My nails dug into my palms.

Cheyenne's head snapped toward the door at the sound of my footsteps.

Panic flashed across his gray-blue eyes before he yanked his uniform jacket over the half-undressed woman beneath him, his movements clumsy and frantic.

The woman let out a small, frightened gasp and shrank against his chest, her amber eyes wide and brimming with tears. She clutched the jacket around herself with trembling fingers, looking for all the world like a startled little doe.

"Beatrix, why didn't you knock?"Cheyenne attacked first, trying to mask his guilt with preemptive anger. He strode toward me, bringing a wave of Alpha pressure with him.

I looked at him coldly and did not step back.

Three years ago, the night before he left for the northern front, Cheyenne promised he would come back and marry me. I believed him and counted every day he was gone.

Last night, when I heard he had returned in triumph, I could barely sleep , this morning, I dressed carefully and went to his estate at dawn.

Only to walk in on that disgusting scene.And my gaze went past his shoulder to the Omega.

Behind Cheyenne, Her lips curved into a slow, venomous smirk, and she tilted her head at me with open mockery.

"Knock? So you two could put your clothes on and let you keep playing the devoted fiancé?"

My blunt words turned Cheyenne's face stiff. He frowned, lifting his chin with condescending arrogance as he adjusted his Defense Captain collar.

"Since you saw us, I won't hide it anymore. This is Gwendolyn, I was badly wounded on the northern front. She saved me. For the past three years, she has been the one beside me in camp.Gwendolyn is carrying my pup, and she needs an official title."

A cold laugh tore from my throat as my fingernails dug deep into my palms."So what? Are you calling off our wedding?"

"No."

He puffed out his chest like he was doing me a grand favor.

"You're the eldest daughter of the Cantrell Pack, so the engagement stands. But I'll have Gwendolyn marry in under your name and become my official wife, and you can be my secret mistress under my protection since you're wolfless."

Gwendolyn immediately lowered her head and pressed herself against Cheyenne's arm, her voice quivering with feigned sympathy.

"That's right, sister. You were born without an Inner Wolf gene and can't even shift or use a Mind-Link-how could a defective wolfless like you survive without Cheyenne?"

My stomach heaved at the sight of the two of them. When Cheyenne reached out to pat my shoulder, I slapped his hand away with everything I had.

"Don't touch me with the hand that touched her. It's filthy."

"Beatrix! Don't push your luck!"

Cheyenne roared, unleashing his Alpha's Commandaura until the crystal glasses on the side table rattled.

An Alpha's Command forces lower-ranking wolves in the same pack into physical submission, though my hidden White Wolf royal bloodline made me completely immune to his weak pressure.

But I deliberately turned pale and took half a step back, biting my teeth as I stared at him.

"Save your rutting tricks for someone else."

Before he could lunge, the heavy front doors swung open. My father, Alpha Farrell Cantrell, marched inside,he glanced at the half-dressed Omega, furrowed his brow, and didn't say a single angry word to Cheyenne.

"Father, you see what's happening. He betrayed our engagement."I turned to Farrell, searching his face for one last shred of paternal protection.

Farrell swept a cold gaze over me, his voice flat and final.

"Cheyenne is the Defense Captain of Black Ridge Pack, so having a few Omegas on the side is normal. For a wolfless embarrassment like you to marry him is already a blessing, so do as he says."

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water poured from my head to my heels, chilling me to the bone. Looking at my father's greedy, calculating face, the last bit of hope in my chest shattered into dust, and my lips twisted into a sharp sneer.

Cheyenne raised his chin in triumph, his gray-blue eyes gleaming."Did you hear that, Beatrix? Know your place."

I took a deep breath and took out the sterling silver badge representing the engagement from my bag. In their incredible eyes, I slammed it on the floor and let out a clear and it cracked with a loud snap.

"I don't want this trash engagement."I bit out every word, my voice colder than winter frost."Cheyenne, from today on, we have nothing to do with each other."

Cheyenne's eyes bulged as if he couldn't believe a useless discard dared to dump him.

"Have you lost your mind? Without me, which pack do you think would ever take you in?"

"Marrying a feral Rogue in the wasteland would be better than tying myself to a disgusting deserter like you."

I pressed hard on the word "deserter," watching terror flash across the back of his eyes at the mention of the silver-storm battlefield where he had secretly abandoned his commander.

"You ungrateful wretch! How dare you treat a pack alliance like a joke?"

Farrell exploded, raising his heavy palm to strike my cheek.

I caught his wrist mid-air, twisted my waist, and used an underground fighting leverage technique to shove him sideways. He stumbled back two full steps, his boots skidding across the floor while Cheyenne and Gwendolyn gasped in shock.

"My marriage is my own business from now on."I dropped the words without looking back, spinning on my heel and striding out the front doors.

"Where can a wolfless cripple like you even go? You'll come crawling back on your knees begging Cheyenne!"

Gwendolyn's shrill scream faded behind me as I pushed outside, where the crisp pine-scented wind blew away the suffocating stench of white lilies.

Walking down the front steps onto the gravel driveway, I pulled out my smartphone and stared at the breaking news banner from the billionaire Black Ridge Pack.

If the Cantrell family wanted to use me as a stepping stone, I would find a backer powerful enough to crush them underfoot.

And in the entire werewolf world, who was more suitable to be a mutually non-interfering contract husband than the supreme leader rumored to be seriously injured and comatose-Constantine Boone?