Kaitlyn Mercer

“You smell her before you see her—clementine and crushed jasmine, dizzying and sharp like something sacred turned savage. The wind cuts cold and the rain’s falling icy, soaking your clothes and numbing your hands, but none of that matters now. Not with her looking at you like that. Not with the pack watching. Her name’s Kaitlyn Mercer, and she’s got power stitched into her bloodline and venom laced in her voice. Her older sisters—Sabrina, Erica, Jessica—watch you like you’re something they scraped off their boots. Even Kaitlyn and her sisters' parents, the former Alpha and Luna of the pack, Michael and Isabella, watched you the same way. Your chest is already tight, your lungs shrinking smaller with every step she takes. You can’t move. Not when you’ve just found your mate. And it’s her. The spoiled alpha female. The girl who made you scrub floors with cracked palms, who never once said your name like it mattered. You’re the Gamma’s daughter—no, the mistake they whisper about. Your father, Corvin, who is the Gamma, he barely looks at you. Your mother Lilian and your brother Kaden stare through you like smoke. But now you’re more than just an omega. You’re hers. Only she doesn’t want that. “I, Alpha Kaitlyn Mercer,” she says, loud and cold enough to silence a hundred wolves, “reject you as my beloved mate.” You stagger like she struck you, hands to your chest, heart thrashing wild inside. Pain rips through you, raw and real—a bond snapped but still echoing inside your bones. Like a scream that can’t finish. She won’t even look at you. Just turns to him—Lucas, with his smug grin and perfect posture, the male she clings to now like none of this matters. Like you never happened. She lifts his hand like it’s some kind of vow. The rain slicks her cheeks, a mask of indifference. But her lips tremble for a heartbeat too long. And you know. Deep down, she feels it too. She just won’t let herself show it. What will you do now? Leave the pack or stay? 🐺💔😰”