When the Billionaire Alpha Grovels

Brea Chase POV:

Stepping out of the dented taxi, I stared up at the towering iron gates of the Silvercrest Pack castle, a cold knot twisting in my stomach.

Luxury cars rolled steadily up the circular drive, unloading high-ranking guests in tailored suits and shimmering silk gowns. As I stood on the pavement gripping my worn suitcase, the chatter around me faltered.

Dozens of eyes flicked toward me, filled with recognition, thinly veiled disgust, and malice, followed by sharp whispers behind gloved hands.

My pulse hammered against my ribs, unease crawling over my skin like ice water. I hadn't set foot on Silvercrest soil in eight years.

Eight years since that nightmare at the pack banquet when someone spiked my drink with wolfsbane, dragged my paralyzed body into an abandoned room, and filmed my humiliation behind a glowing red light. By morning, maliciously edited footage had spread across the territory, and no one, not even my own father, listened to my cries of innocence.

Overnight, I was branded the pack's shameless whore, stripped of my standing, and cast out into the human world.

I had sworn I would never return. I never would have, not until my father froze my university transcripts and held my late mother's research manuscripts hostage to force me back for my stepsister Jessi's wedding.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself up the grand staircase until my worn black heels clicked to a halt before the entrance. Two burly Beta guards immediately slammed their riot batons together, blocking the gilded doors.

One guard stared at the faded pink scars peeking from my coat cuff and smirked. "Well, if it isn't Brea Chase, the infamous pack slut from eight years ago. It's a big wedding day. Try not to strip in the hallways again."

Cold sweat prickled the back of my neck, the old phantom stench of chemicals and wolfsbane rising in my throat, but I dug my nails into my palms and kept my voice flat. "Step aside. Gamma Alvia issued my summons himself. Can you afford the punishment if I'm late?"

Fear flickered in the Beta's eyes at my father's title. He pulled his baton back, though as the heavy metal doors swung open, he deliberately rammed his shoulder into mine, sending my suitcase crashing onto the white marble floor.

Inside the grand foyer, crystal chandeliers blazed over hundreds of elite guests, and their laughter died the second my muted Omega scent hit the air.

A wave of disgusted gasps and venomous whispers rippled through the noble circle. Several women in silk gowns pinched their noses and took a theatrical step back, their voices deliberately loud enough to carry across the marble floor.

"Look who crawled back. Brea Chase. Hasn't she got any shame showing her face after that disgusting video eight years ago?"

"Oh, stop it. We already forgave her for that little mistake. Everyone deserves a second chance, even a girl with a past like hers."

Low chuckles and mocking sneers echoed around me, their eyes peeling away my dignity.

My biological father, Gamma Alvia Spencer, descended the spiral staircase in a crisp black dress uniform, his hawk-like eyes radiating pure disgust. "Since you're back, get into the side hall and stop embarrassing this family."

I lifted my chin and met his cold stare. "Sign the release on my university transcripts, and I won't breathe a word."

Alvia's face darkened, and he slammed his whiskey glass onto a passing waiter's tray with a sharp crack. "I brought you back so the Board of Elders sees the Spencer family doesn't harbor fugitives! Shut your mouth and stand in the corner!"

My stepmother, Genevieve, glided out from the inner lounge wearing giant South Sea pearls, patting Alvia's arm with an expression of tender, long-suffering benevolence. "Oh, Alvia, please, don't be so harsh with her on such a blessed day. We all know Brea made terrible mistakes in her youth, but she was young and weak-willed. As her mother, I've already prayed to the Moon Goddess to cleanse her sins."

She reached out a manicured hand to smooth my lapel, leaning in with a venomous whisper wrapped in honey. "We're being so gracious letting a disgraced girl back into polite society, sweetie. Don't be ungrateful."

Beside her, my stepsister Jessi approached in a diamond-encrusted wedding gown, the light brown beauty mark under her right eye gleaming as she looked down at me with feigned pity. "Eight years, little sister, and you're still carrying that bitter chip on your shoulder? Look at you, still wearing threadbare human rags. Don't worry, I begged Daddy not to ban you."

I stared at the sapphire necklace resting against her collarbone, the only heirloom my late mother had left me. "Save your fake charity. After the ceremony, give me back my mother's research manuscripts."

Jessi let out a delicate, tinkling laugh, tilting her head. "Manuscripts? Brea, be realistic. An Omega who disgraced the pack can't even get a decent mate, let alone do real research. If you behave today and play the repentant sister, I might even toss you a few of my old designer dresses so you look presentable for once."

Approving murmurs rose from the guests praising Jessi's boundless grace toward a fallen sister, just as a tall Beta in a charcoal suit, Beckham Rowland, Vice President of the pack's corporate empire, hurried down the corridor whispering urgently to several Elders.

Twelve deep church bells tolled through the estate, and the master of ceremonies pushed open the carved doors to the main ballroom as pipe organ music poured out.

Jessi hooked her arm through mine, sinking her sharp fake nails deep into the flesh of my inner elbow as she pulled me close, her breath warm and sweet against my ear. "Come sit in the very front row, sister. You're going to love my groom. He's an absolute dream."

I wrenched my arm free, my elbow throbbing, and followed the bridal procession into a hall thick with white lilies and the crushing pheromone pressure of elite wolves. While Alvia walked Jessi toward the altar amid flashing cameras, I shrank into the shadow of a corner pillar, gripping the hem of my coat and praying for this farce to end.

At the altar, the officiating Elder raised his hands. "Now, let the groom enter to receive the Moon Goddess's sacred vow!"

The side door swung open, and a tall man in a tailored white tuxedo stepped into the golden light.

The air in my lungs turned to shards of ice.

Julian Beaumont.

It was him. The beast from eight years ago. The very monster who had drugged me, dragged me into that dark room, and laughed in my ear while pressing record, obliterating my entire life.

He was Jessi's groom?

I had assumed she was marrying some wealthy heir from an allied territory, never in my darkest nightmares imagining that the man who had orchestrated my ruin was standing there, adored by the pack, treated as royalty, about to take my sister's hand at the sacred altar.

Julian's gaze swept lazily across the pews and locked dead onto mine. The sickening, predatory curve of his lips parted, his eyes gleaming with the exact same depraved amusement from that night.

The room violently tilted. Memories of locked iron doors, tearing hands, and his mocking whispers slammed into my skull like a freight train. My knees buckled, my back smashed against the cold marble pillar, and my throat closed in a suffocating panic attack.

I had to get out. Right now. Screw the university transcripts. Screw my mother's manuscripts. Nothing in this cursed territory was worth staying in the same room as that monster for another second.

Unable to draw a single breath, I spun around, shoved blindly past the startled ushers, and bolted for the heavy brass side doors.