Claimed by His Rival

Just before our Luna Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Killian, rejected me. He declared that the pack's Luna had to be a gentle Omega, Mia.

"The ceremony is off."

Killian's voice cut like a blade.

I was still dazed from our passion, his scent still clinging to my skin.

But he was already on his feet, pulling on his jacket.

A wave of his cold Alpha command washed over the room, snuffing out the mingled scents of our bodies.

"What?" I thought I'd misheard him.

"You heard me, Sera," Killian said without turning around, straightening files on his desk. "The Blackwood Pack needs a gentle Omega Luna to bear its heirs, not a Beta warrior with the blood of our enemies on her hands."

I sat on the sofa in his office, staring at his cold, hard back.

Eight years.

Eight years of fighting and bleeding for him.

Eight years of absolute loyalty.

Eight years of standing by his side.

All for nothing because of that Mia?

"Last week's border skirmish," I said, my voice steady. "I was the one who drove back the intruders. Where were you?"

Killian finally turned, a flicker of discomfort in his eyes.

"I was calming the pack."

"You were calming Mia," I corrected him. "While she was trembling in your arms, I was on the front lines, killing our enemies."

"Mia's gentle nature is the pack's greatest treasure," his tone hardened. "It's not her fault."

Of course, it wasn't her fault.

It was mine.

My mistake was being too strong, making him feel threatened.

My mistake was being too loyal, letting him take me for granted.

My mistake was believing an Alpha and a Beta could ever find true love.

"You think I'll just obey? Like I always do?"

I stood up and walked toward his desk.

It was covered in trophies and awards, every single one of them earned through my victories.

The most prominent was a crystal trophy—"Blackwood Pack's Strategist of the Year."

I had won that for him.

Killian reached for my shoulder, probably about to try one of his "calming" tricks.

"Sera, I know this is hard to accept, but for the future of the pack—"

My hand shot out and grabbed the crystal trophy.

CRACK.

Sharp fragments dug deep into my palm, and blood welled up instantly.

Killian froze.

I held up my bleeding hand.

The crimson drops blossomed against the crystal, stark and visceral, like morbid roses blooming on glass.

"My blood won you this," I said, gesturing to the shattered trophy with my bleeding hand. My voice was so calm it was chilling. "And now, I'm taking back everything I've earned for you."