Claimed by the Alpha’s Fortune

Chapter One: Moonfall Ella Morris The invitation arrived at dusk, slipped under the door of her rented room like a bad omen. Ella stared at the cream-colored envelope, the silver wax seal embossed with the howling wolf crest of the Nightclaw pack. Her fingers trembled as she picked it up. She already knew what it said. Every unmated wolf of age received one every year—the mandatory pack gathering, where fate would be decided. But for her, it wasn't fate. It was a joke the Moon Goddess liked to play on the weak. She broke the seal and pulled out the card. *You are hereby summoned to the Annual Pack Gathering. Attendance is mandatory. The selection of your fated mate will be announced. Venue: Nightclaw Estate. Time: Sunset.* The words blurred in front of her eyes. She sat down on the edge of her bed—a creaky, second-hand thing with springs that poked through the thin mattress. Her room was small, barely big enough for the bed, a rickety desk, and a closet with a missing door. The wallpaper was peeling, and the window faced a brick wall. But it was hers. For now. Ella checked her wallet. Twenty-three dollars. Enough for bus fare to the gathering and maybe a cup of coffee on the way back. The eviction notice was pinned to the corkboard above her desk: *24 hours to pay overdue rent or vacate.* Twenty-three dollars. A terminated cleaning contract. And now, a pack gathering where she would be humiliated in front of everyone. She laughed bitterly. It was almost funny. --- The mirror in the hallway was cracked, but it was all she had. Ella studied her reflection—pale skin, dark circles under her eyes from too many sleepless nights, mousy brown hair pulled back in a hasty braid. She wore her only decent dress, a plain gray thing she'd bought at a thrift store two years ago. It was clean, at least. She practiced smiling. The expression looked foreign on her face. *Just get through tonight*, she told herself. *Keep your head down. Don't cry. Don't let them see you break.* She'd been doing that for twenty-two years. One more night wouldn't kill her. Her phone buzzed on the desk. She picked it up, expecting another bill collector. Instead, the screen glowed with a message she'd been dreading: **REMINDER: Your fated mate will be revealed at tonight's Alpha Selection Ceremony. Attendance required. Doors open at 7 PM.** Ella's hand shook so badly she nearly dropped the phone. A fated mate. The Moon Goddess's so-called gift—a perfect match, a partner destined by the stars. But Ella knew better. Fated mates were for wolves with bloodlines worth continuing. For Omegas like her—scentless, wolfless, worthless—the Goddess's gift was usually a cruel joke. She'd heard stories of Omegas being rejected on the spot, humiliated in front of the entire pack, then cast out like garbage. She was probably going to be one of those stories. --- The bus dropped her off two blocks from the Nightclaw Estate. She could have walked the rest of the way, but her legs felt like lead. The estate loomed at the end of the street—a sprawling mansion of dark stone and silver-trimmed windows, surrounded by manicured gardens and iron gates. It was the kind of place that screamed *old money* and *old blood*. Ella had never been inside. As a child, she'd stood at these gates, watching the other pups run and play in the gardens. She'd pressed her face against the cold iron bars and wondered what it felt like to belong. She'd never found out. A line of wolves was already filing through the main entrance, dressed in silks and furs and tailored suits. Ella hung back, waiting until the crowd thinned. She didn't want to be seen. She didn't want anyone to notice her. But of course, they noticed anyway. "Is that Ella Morris?" a voice whispered behind her. "The Omega? I thought she'd left town years ago." "She's probably here for the selection. Poor thing." "Don't feel sorry for her. She's wolfless. What did she expect?" Ella kept her eyes forward and walked faster. Her cheeks burned, but she didn't look back. She'd learned a long time ago that acknowledging the whispers only made them louder. --- The ballroom was a sea of bodies and bright lights. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting shimmering reflections across the marble floor. A live orchestra played somewhere in the corner, though the music was barely audible over the chatter. Ella slipped through the crowd, keeping to the edges. She found a spot near a tall pillar and pressed her back against it, trying to make herself as small as possible. From here, she could see the whole room—the Alphas in their expensive suits, their chests puffed with pride; the Betas mingling and networking, calculating alliances; and the few Omegas like her, hovering at the margins, invisible. And then she saw him. Cade Darkclaw. He stood at the center of the room, surrounded by a circle of admirers. He was tall—easily over six feet—with broad shoulders, chiseled features, and dark hair that fell across his forehead. His eyes were the color of molten gold, and when he smiled, every female in the room seemed to lean toward him. He was the youngest Alpha in Nightclaw history. The strongest. The most ruthless. And according to the rumors, he was looking for a mate tonight. Ella's heart pounded. She told herself it was just nerves. Every Omega in the room was probably feeling the same way. But when Cade's gaze swept across the crowd and paused—just for a second—on her face, her blood ran cold. No. Not her. Please, not her. She looked away, staring at the floor, willing herself to disappear. --- The ceremony began at eight o'clock. The Alpha of Nightclack—Cade's father, though everyone knew the old man was just a figurehead now—took the stage and gave a speech about tradition, honor, and the sacred bond of fated mates. Ella didn't listen. She was too busy trying to calm her racing heart. Then came the moment she'd been dreading. "The Moon Goddess has blessed us with a fated pairing tonight," the Alpha announced, his voice booming through the ballroom. "Cade Darkclaw, step forward." Cade strode to the center of the room, his movements fluid and predatory. He looked like a god among mortals. The Alpha unrolled a scroll—an ancient tradition, though everyone knew the names were determined long before the ceremony. "The Goddess has chosen... Ella Morris." The room went silent. Ella felt every pair of eyes turn toward her. Her legs wouldn't move. Her mouth was dry. Someone behind her muttered, "Ella Morris? The wolfless one?" "Go," a Beta woman whispered, pushing her forward. "Don't keep him waiting." Ella walked. Each step felt like wading through concrete. The crowd parted before her, and she could see the looks on their faces—pity, curiosity, and barely concealed disgust. She stopped in front of Cade. He was even taller up close. His golden eyes bored into hers, and for a moment—just a moment—she saw something flicker in them. Curiosity? Interest? Then his lip curled. "Ella Morris," he said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "The Moon Goddess has declared you my fated mate." Her heart leaped. Was this real? Was she—could she possibly be— "I refuse." The words hit her like a physical blow. The room gasped. Someone laughed. Cade leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You're not my Luna," he whispered, so only she could hear. "You're not even a wolf. You're nothing." He stepped back and turned to the crowd, spreading his arms wide. "I, Cade Darkclaw, reject Ella Morris as my mate!" The rejection was official. In wolf society, a rejection was final. It meant she would never have another fated mate. It meant she was marked as *unworthy* for the rest of her life. Ella stood frozen as the whispers turned into open laughter. She saw the Beta woman who had pushed her forward smirking. She saw Cade's arm slip around the waist of a beautiful female wolf—a Beta, strong and confident, with perfect hair and a perfect smile. The female looked at Ella and laughed. "Get her out of here," someone said. "She's not pack anymore." Hands grabbed her arms and dragged her toward the door. Ella didn't resist. She couldn't feel her body anymore. She couldn't feel anything. The last thing she saw before the doors slammed shut was Cade's golden eyes, cold and merciless, watching her fall. --- The night air hit her like a slap. Ella stumbled down the steps of the estate, barely registering the cold. Her chest was hollow. Her mind was empty. She walked. She didn't know where. She just walked. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, expecting—what? A cruel text from someone who'd witnessed her humiliation? Instead, it was an automated message from the cleaning agency she'd worked for. **Your contract has been terminated effective immediately. Please return your uniform by end of week.** Ella stopped walking. She stood on the side of the road, under the pale glow of a streetlight, and stared at the words until they blurred into tears. Twenty-three dollars. An eviction notice. A terminated contract. And now, a rejection that would follow her for the rest of her life. She had nothing. She was nothing. The rain started falling, cold and relentless, soaking through her gray dress. She didn't bother to run. What was the point? She walked back to her rented room, climbed the creaky stairs, and unlocked the door. The room was just as she'd left it—small, shabby, empty. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall. The clock on the wall ticked toward midnight. Ella closed her eyes. And then, the world exploded into light.