On the tarmac, the wind was cold, but my husband’s rejection was freezing.
“You aren’t coming on the jet,” Jackson said, adjusting the diamond cufflinks I had bought him.
He pointed to the stairs where his mistress, Amber, stood wearing a silk dress I had commissioned for myself.
“Amber is frail. She needs the comfort of the private cabin. I booked you a commercial flight. It leaves in three hours.”
He shoved an envelope into my hand. Economy. Middle seat. Two layovers.
I stood there, the Luna of the pack, being told to fly cargo while a Rogue took my seat on the Gulfstream G650 ‘I’ had paid for.
My mother-in-law even chimed in, clutching the designer bag I bought her, claiming my “healer energy” was too stressful for their precious guest.
Jackson blocked our telepathic bond, took his mistress’s hand, and the door hissed shut in my face.
He thought he was the Alpha. He thought he held the power because I had let him play the part for five years.
But he forgot one tiny detail: his name wasn’t on the trust fund.
As the jet taxied away, I didn’t cry. I pulled out my phone and dialed my personal banker.
“Dr. Hogan?”
“Cancel the flight plan,” I said, my voice steady. “Revoke their clearance. Ground the jet at the first refueling stop. And cut the credit lines. All of them.”
“All of them, Ma’am? The pack accounts?”
“Everything,” I whispered, watching the plane lift off. “Let’s see how the Alpha survives without my wallet.”
Bankrupting The Alpha: The Rejected Mate’s Ultimate Payback Chapter 1
The leader of the pack, my Alpha husband Jackson, took away my spot on the flight and gave it to his mistress.
“Amber is fragile. She needs the private jet. I’ve booked you a commercial flight.”
He shoved an envelope into my hands. Economy class. Middle seat. Two layovers.
I stood there looking like an absolute joke, while a rogue took my seat on my Gulfstream G650.
A jet that I paid for.
Jackson severed our mind-link, took his mistress’s hand, and boarded the plane.
He thought he was the boss. He thought he held all the power.
Amber thought she had bagged a rich Alpha and secured her fortune.
But they forgot one tiny detail: Jackson’s name wasn’t on the trust fund.
As the plane taxied away, I pulled out my phone and dialed my private banker.
“Ma’am?”
“Cancel the flight plan,” I ordered. “Revoke their flight clearance. Cut off their credit lines. Cut everything.”
“Everything?”
“Everything,” I said, watching the jet lift into the sky. “Let’s see if the Alpha can survive without my wallet.”
Chapter 1
Haley’s POV:
The wind on the tarmac pierced through my coat, but it was nothing compared to the ice spreading through my veins.
The engines of the Gulfstream G650 were already emitting a high-pitched whine.
It was a magnificent machine. And it should be. After all, I paid for it.
Just like I paid for the Italian wool suits our warriors wore, the thousands of gallons of fuel in the tanks, and the Alpha Summit invitation currently resting in my husband’s pocket.
“Haley, step back,” Jackson said. There was no mate-like warmth in his voice, only a tone of sheer impatience.
I blinked, trying to process the absolute absurdity of the situation. “Excuse me? We need to board. The summit’s opening ceremony starts in four hours.”
Jackson didn’t even look at me. He was adjusting his cufflinks-gold, studded with diamonds. My anniversary gift to him.
“You’re not flying with us,” he stated flatly.
My heart skipped a beat. “What? Jackson, I’m the Luna. I’m the one who secured the Dorsey Pack a seat at the table of power. Why wouldn’t I-“
“Amber is fragile,” he interrupted, finally meeting my eyes. His gaze was icy, stripped of the tenderness it held five years ago. “She just came back from the wild. Her wolf is weak, and she needs the comfort of a private jet.”
I looked past him. Standing at the top of the stairs, posing like a tragic heroine, was Amber Compton.
She was wearing a custom-made silk dress I had tailored for myself. It hung loosely on her frame, accentuating an overly deliberate sense of frailty.
She offered me a faint smile. The kind of smile a shark gives right before it bites.
“But there are twelve seats,” I argued, fighting to keep my voice steady. “There’s plenty of room.”
“Haley, this isn’t about space,” Jackson’s mother, Cornelia, chimed in.
She stood by the luggage cart, her hands tightly clutching the designer bag I bought her for Christmas last year.
“It’s about the vibes. Amber needs peace. Your energy is… too intense. You’re a healer, always radiating that sterile, clinical aura. It stresses her out.”
I felt like I had been slapped in the face.
My power-the healing energy that kept Cornelia’s arthritis from crippling her, the power that kept the warriors from going feral on full moons-was now a “burden.”
Jackson pulled an envelope from his coat pocket and shoved it in my face.
“I booked you a ticket on a commercial flight. It takes off in three hours.”
With trembling hands, I took the envelope and looked at the ticket.
Economy class. Middle seat. Two layovers. It was practically a cargo flight.
“You want the Luna of the Dorsey Pack to fly coach, while a rogue takes my private jet?” I asked.
“She is not a rogue!” Jackson snarled. A flash of gold ignited in his eyes-the hallmark of his inner Alpha wolf rising. “She is an honored guest. And she is… full of potential.”
He shot a quick glance at Amber’s stomach.
“This conversation is over.”
Jackson, I reached out to him through our mind-link. Jackson, please tell me you’re not doing this. Tell me you’re not humiliating me in front of the pack.
Silence.
He blocked me.
My husband, the Alpha of the pack, had thrown up a mental wall against his own mate. It was the ultimate, silent rejection.
“We have to go,” Jackson said, turning his back on me. “Haley, don’t be late to the hotel. You’ll need to iron your evening gown when you get there.”
He walked up the stairs, took Amber’s hand, and kissed her cheek. It was a tender gesture he hadn’t shown me in years.
The pack warriors-men I had healed, men whose children I had helped deliver-all looked away.
They followed their Alpha. They followed the money. Or rather, they followed the man they thought controlled the money.
The cabin door hissed shut.
I stood alone on the concrete. The acrid stench of aviation fuel assaulted my nose.
The plane began to taxi. I stared at the logo on the tail-the Dorsey Wolf. I was the one who paid the painters for that.
Something inside me snapped.
No, not snapped. Unleashed. My inner wolf, usually calm and pristine white, rose to her paws and shook out her fur.
She didn’t howl; she growled. It was a low, deafening vibration that rattled straight to my marrow.
I looked down at the economy ticket in my hand.
Then, I looked at the black American Express card in my wallet.
The card linked to the master trust fund. The very trust fund that financed their private jet, their mansion, their cars, and the food on their table.
I pulled out my phone. The screen was freezing against my cheek.
“Yes, Dr. Hogan?” my private banker answered on the first ring.
“Cancel the flight plan for the Gulfstream,” I said.
“Ma’am? They’re already taxiing.”
“I know. Revoke their flight clearance. Ground them at the first refueling stop. Cut off their credit lines. Cut everything.”
“Everything, Dr. Hogan? All accounts?”
I watched the plane lift off and disappear into the overcast sky. “I just remembered a document sitting in my safe-the one Jackson signed in desperation five years ago.”
I never wanted to use it. I never wanted to be that kind of person.
But he made me into this person.
“It’s all over,” I said. “The game is over.”
Bankrupting The Alpha: The Rejected Mate’s Ultimate Payback Chapter 2
Haley’s POV:
The Packhouse was dead silent.
Normally, this place was loud and chaotic. Young wolves sparring in the yard, Omegas clattering plates in the kitchen, fifty werewolves living under one roof creating a constant, low thrum of energy.
But most of the high-ranking members had gone to the summit, and the rest were out on patrol.
I walked through the grand foyer. My heels clicked sharply against the marble floors. I had paid to import these from Italy because Cornelia claimed the old hardwood hurt her sensitive feet.
I stepped into the kitchen. The staff, mostly low-ranking Omegas who couldn’t shift, looked up in sheer terror. They were eating scraps-minced meat and dry bread.
“Where is the roast?” I asked, looking at the empty counters.
“Madam Cornelia took the best cuts of meat to her room before heading to the airport,” a young girl named Sarah whispered. “She said… she said the servants didn’t deserve Wagyu.”
I closed my eyes. I had specifically bought that beef for tonight’s staff appreciation dinner.
My phone vibrated. It was a video call request from Jackson.
I accepted it.
Jackson’s face filled the screen. He was flushed and looked furious. The background noise was the chaotic buzz of an airport terminal.
“Why is my card declining?!” he yelled. People in the background turned to look. “We landed in Kansas to refuel, and the pilot said the fuel account is frozen!”
“Is it?” I asked, picking up an apple and examining it closely. “What a shame.”
“Haley, fix it now! Amber is hungry. She needs organic venison, and the airport restaurant won’t take the corporate card.”
Amber’s face appeared over his shoulder. She looked pale, but malice glinted in her eyes.
“Oh, Haley,” she cooed, her tone dripping with fake sympathy. “Did you forget to pay the bills again? You know how forgetful you get when you’re stressed. Maybe you should transfer the authorization to Jackson. He is the Alpha, after all.”
“Authorization requires the account holder’s biometric scan,” I said calmly. “And that’s me.”
“Then approve it!” Jackson roared. “I command you!”
I felt the heavy pressure of the Alpha Command.
In the werewolf world, the Alpha’s voice is law. It can force other wolves into submission, making them bare their necks and fall to their knees.
I felt a wave of pressure wash over me, trying to force my head down.
But I was a Master Healer. My spirit had been forged through years of wrestling with death itself. My mental shields were impenetrable.
I took a bite of the apple. Crunch.
I stared dead into the camera. I didn’t bow, and I didn’t flinch.
“No,” I said.
Jackson froze. The sheer shock on his face was incredibly satisfying. For an Alpha Command to fail was exceedingly rare. It either meant the Alpha was weak, or the one being commanded possessed extraordinary power.
He chose to believe the former was impossible.
“You… you dare defy my command?” he stammered.
“You broke our contract, Jackson,” I said. “And I’m not just talking about our marriage license. I mean the original agreement, the one you signed in red ink. You abandoned that loyalty on the tarmac today.”
“I am your mate!”
“And,” I said, pointing at Amber on the screen, “she is clearly your top priority. Let her pay for the fuel.”
“I don’t have human money,” Amber scoffed coldly. “I live the old ways.”
“Then go hunt rabbits in the parking lot,” I said.
Cornelia’s shrill voice pierced through the background: “Haley! Stop this nonsense at once! We are the Dorsey Pack!”
“Now you understand,” I said.
“Just wait until I get home,” Jackson threatened. “You will be punished. You’ll spend a week in the cells for this insolence.”
“You have to get home first,” I reminded him. “And Jackson? Don’t bother coming to the clinic for your migraines tonight. We’re closed.”
I hung up.
I looked at Sarah and the rest of the staff. They were staring at me with wide eyes.
“Order pizza,” I said, pulling a wad of cash from my purse-my personal cash, not pack funds. “Whatever you guys want, put it on my tab.”
“But… Luna,” Sarah stammered. “The Alpha said…”
“I’m not the Luna anymore,” I said, feeling a massive weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m just the landlord.”
I turned and headed for the stairs.
I needed to pack my bags. But first, I had a specific destination in mind.
I walked up to the third floor, the Alpha Wing.
The door to my bedroom was closed.
I pushed it open.
The scent hit me instantly. It wasn’t just lingering perfume; it was the scent of sex.
Vanilla and musk. Sickeningly sweet.
It was fresh.
Not only had they humiliated me at the airport, but they had defiled my sanctuary before they even left.
I stood in the doorway, and for the first time in my life, I felt absolutely no urge to heal.
I felt the urge to destroy.
“The bill has been issued,” I whispered to the empty room. “And the interest rate is a bitch.”
Bankrupting The Alpha: The Rejected Mate’s Ultimate Payback Chapter 3
Haley’s POV:
I stood at the threshold of my former marital bedroom-the Alpha’s den.
In wolf culture, the den is sacred. It’s where the Alpha and Luna solidify their bond and find peaceful rest.
Trespassing into another wolf’s den without permission is a direct provocation. Leaving your scent there is a fight to the death.
The scent was overwhelming. It was everywhere. On the curtains, on the rugs.
On the bed, it was the strongest.
I walked over to the massive, king-sized four-poster bed.
I saw a long strand of blonde hair resting on the pillow.
My wolf, the white wolf I had hidden and suppressed for five years just to make Jackson feel powerful, clawed at the inside of my ribs. She wanted blood.
Burn it, she hissed in my mind. Burn it all.
I didn’t need to be told twice.
I grabbed the corner of the mattress.
Werewolves are strong. Even a healer is stronger than ten normal humans.
Right now, fueled by the rage of a betrayed mate, my strength was on an entirely different level.
I let out a primal roar and ripped the heavy mattress clean off the bed frame.
I didn’t stop there. I grabbed the pillows, the duvet, and the sheets.
I marched straight to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the front lawn and kicked the glass open. The glass shattered, but I couldn’t care less.
I hurled the mattress out the window. It crashed onto the manicured lawn three stories below with a satisfying thud.
Then went the pillows, then the sheets.
I turned back into the room. The closet door was ajar.
I stepped inside. Jackson’s clothes were on the left, mine on the right.
But shoved right in the middle, carelessly hung on my hangers, were cheap, gaudy clothes that didn’t belong to me.
Leopard print skirts. Faux fur coats.
Amber had moved in. She wasn’t just visiting; she had already started replacing me before I even left.
I grabbed massive handfuls of the clothes, not bothering with the hangers, just ripping them down.
I walked back to the window and tossed them out. They fluttered down like cheap confetti.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
I spun around.
Standing in the doorway was Jackson’s younger sister, Jordan. She had been grounded for failing her exams and missed the summit.
She stood there, a bag of potato chips in hand, her mouth hanging open in horror.
“Spring cleaning,” I said coldly.
“That’s… that’s Jackson’s room! You can’t just throw things out the window! Mom is going to kill you!”
“Your mom is currently stuck in some airport in Kansas, eating crackers from a vending machine,” I said, walking over to the nightstand.
I saw a framed photo. It was me and Jackson on our wedding day. He looked smug; I looked hopeful.
I picked it up.
“You’re crazy,” Jordan sneered. “I always knew you were mentally unstable. Amber will be way better than you. She’s fun. And she let me borrow her car.”
“The car that I paid for?” I asked.
I dropped the photo. It didn’t break on the carpet, so I drove the heel of my shoe into it, crushing it. The sound of shattering glass was incredibly satisfying.
“Get out, Jordan,” I said. My voice was low, raspy, laced with a growl that made the girl take a step back.
“You can’t order me around! My brother is the boss!”
“Your brother is a broke loser holding a deed he can’t afford,” I snapped. “And this Packhouse? My name is on the deed, not his. Mine.”
Jordan paled. “That’s not true. This is the Packhouse.”
“This house was foreclosed by the bank when I met him,” I said, stepping closer to her. “I bought it, I renovated it, and right now, I’m allowing you to live in it. That’s it.”
I picked up a bottle of perfume from the vanity-Amber’s cheap vanilla body mist.
I walked to the window and tossed it. It smashed onto the driveway below.
Then, I did the forbidden.
I summoned my magic. But not the gentle, soothing blue light of a healer.
I dug deep, tapping into the bloodline I had always kept hidden.
The blood of the White Wolf.
A cluster of silver flames ignited around my hands. It was the fire of purification. An ancient ability lost to most modern wolves.
Jordan screamed, “What are you?!”
I touched the curtains. The silver flames engulfed them instantly, burning away the fabric and the intruder’s scent, leaving nothing but ash. It didn’t burn the wood; it only incinerated the filth.
“I am the one who’s done being used,” I said.
I looked around the empty room, now covered in ash.
“Tell your brother,” I said to the terrified girl, “if he wants his den back, he can sleep on the lawn with his mistress’s trash.”
I walked past her, deliberately ramming my shoulder into hers, sending her stumbling into the hallway.
I had a flight to catch.