Not Just an Incubator: The Omega's Revenge

I thought I was the luckiest Omega in the world when the Alpha of the New Moon Pack chose me.

I was pregnant with his heir, sleeping in his bed, believing the warmth I felt was love.

But then I found the medical report hidden in his desk.

"Subject: Scent Modulator. Dosage: High."

It wasn't a fated bond. It was a drug. He was chemically forcing me to love him.

My best friend dragged me to a restaurant window, and I watched him kiss my cousin, Olivia.

Through the glass, I heard the words that shattered my soul.

"Just a few more months," Ethan told her, caressing her hand. "Once the incubator drops the brat, we'll dispose of her. Then we raise the heir as ours."

I was never his Luna. I was livestock. A walking womb chosen for my bloodline compatibility because his mistress was barren.

My father had tried to warn me with his dying breath, but I had been too blinded by the synthetic scent to listen.

Grief threatened to kill me, but the White Wolf inside me woke up screaming for vengeance.

I went back to the house. I didn't pack a bag. I went straight to the kitchen and brewed a tea of Wolfsbane and Mugwort.

I drank it all, weeping as I felt the bond to the baby snap.

Then, I walked into our bedroom, left the divorce papers on his pillow, and whispered into the mind-link:

"I, Ava Miller, reject you, Ethan Cole, as my mate."

As he screamed in my head, I blocked him and walked into the rain.

He thought he broke a weak Omega. He didn't know he had just unleashed a White Wolf.