Rejected Wolf

✧⁠◝⁠(BROOKLYN POV)⁠◜⁠✧

The council chamber was packed.

My father sat on the throne at the head of the room, his expression unreadable. The elders surrounded him, their ancient faces carved from stone. Victoria stood at his side, her hand resting on his shoulder. Tyler loomed behind her, arms crossed, smirking as if watching his favorite show.

And Jax's parents.

His mother was a wreck, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wild with grief. The moment I was dragged into the room, she lunged at me, her claws extended, and raked them across my face before anyone could stop her.

"You killed my son you evil, cursed bitch!" she shrieked. "MY SON!"

Warriors pulled her off me, but the damage was done. Blood dripped down my cheek, mixing with tears I couldn't stop.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry—"

"Sorry?" She laughed, the sound was broken and terrible. "You'll be sorry when they burn you alive, you bloodthirsty half-blood!"

"Order," my father said, his voice carrying over the chaos. "We will have order."

Victoria stepped forward, her expression soft and sympathetic. It was a mask, I knew. She knelt beside me, her hand cupping my chin with false tenderness.

"Brooklyn, darling," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "What happened? What could have driven you to do something so terrible?"

"I didn't—"

"I know it's been difficult for you," she continued, shaking her head sadly. "Ever since your dear mother disappeared, you've been so troubled. So... Angry. We've tried so hard to help you. To heal you. But you never opened up to us."

Gasps from the crowd.

"The former Luna was never found, but everyone assumed she was dead!"

"Her own mother disappeared, and this is what the half-blood does?"

"She's cursed! I always knew it!"

Victoria sighed, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "I didn't want to speak of it. It was too painful. But it's clear now... Brooklyn has been troubled for a long time. Perhaps she caused her mother's disappearance too."

"No," I shook my head. "No, that's not true."

But no one was listening.

They never listened.

"Brooklyn." My father's voice cut through the noise. He looked at me from his throne, his expression cold and distant. "You stand accused of murdering Jax, son of the pack's Gamma family. How do you plead?"

"Your Majesty..." The words were barely a whisper. "He tried to... he tried to molest me. I didn't mean to hurt him. I—"

"LIAR!" Jax's mother wailed. "My son would never! He was a good boy! A respectful boy! He wouldn't go near a filthy half-blood like you!"

Tyler stepped forward, his face twisted into a mask of righteous indignation. "I can attest that Brooklyn has always been unstable. The half-blood been making advances toward the males of this pack for years. It's why no one wants her."

Delilah nodded, her eyes glistening with crocodile tears. "She's obsessed with Caleb. Everyone knows it. She couldn't stand seeing us happy together, so she... she took out her anger on Jax because he was his best friend."

I stared at them, at my step-siblings who had made my life a living hell, at my stepmother who orchestrated my downfall, at my father who had allowed all of it to happen.

"You're lying," I whispered. "All of you. You're all lying."

"ENOUGH." My father's voice boomed through the chamber, silencing everyone.

He rose from his throne, descending the steps until he stood directly in front of me. I looked up at him—my father, the man who used to hold me on his knee, used to call me his little star, used to love me more than anything in the world.

And I searched for warmth in his eyes.

There was none. Just coldness. Just disdain.

"Before this council," he said, his voice cold and final. "I, Alpha King Dominic, find Brooklyn guilty of murder. The sentence is one hundred lashes. She is no longer a member of this pack. Following her punishment, she will be banished from our lands, forever."

The world tilted.

One hundred lashes. A punishment designed to kill. Anyone who survived a hundred lashes would wish they hadn't.

"Father, please—"

"Do not call me that," he said, turning away. "You are no daughter of mine."

They stripped me of my dress, leaving me in only a thin shift. The post was rough against my wrists as they chained me to it, my back exposed to the gathered crowd.

The first lash came without warning.

White-hot agony exploded across my shoulders, and I screamed. I couldn't help it. The leather struck again, and again, and again, each blow opening fresh wounds on my already ravaged back.

Ten. Twenty. Thirty.

The pain was unbearable. I felt my skin tear, felt the blood run down my back in rivers. The crowd watched in silence, some with satisfaction, some with pity, but none with mercy.

Forty. Fifty. Sixty.

I stopped screaming. My voice was gone. The world had narrowed to the rhythm of the whip, to the fire spreading across my back, to the steady drip of my blood pooling at my feet.

At one hundred, they stopped.

I was barely conscious. My body was a ruin of blood and torn flesh, my back flayed open, my muscles shredded. I hung from the post by my chains, unable to stand, unable to move, unable to do anything but breathe shallow, ragged breaths.

They unchained me, and I collapsed onto the ground.

I should have died. I wanted to die. But some cruel part of me kept clinging to life, forced me to lift my head, to look around the chamber one last time.

No one came for my defense.

No one spoke on my behalf.

The faces of the crowd blurred together—indifference, disgust, satisfaction. I saw Tyler smirking. I saw Victoria dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, playing the part of the grieving stepmother.

And then I saw Caleb.

My mate. The man who should have been my protector. The man who should have fought for me, defended me, believed me.

Delilah tugged on his arm, whispering something in his ear. He nodded, and then he stepped forward, looking down at me with cold, emotionless eyes.

"The Moon Goddess made a mistake," he said, his voice carrying through the silent chamber. "I don't know why she bound us together, but she was wrong. I've already rejected the bond. I chose Delilah over you, and I will always choose her. You mean nothing to me."

The rejection hit me like a blade through the heart. I could feel it—the severing of the bond, the shattering of whatever connection had existed between us. In that moment, I became human in the eyes of the Moon Goddess, free from the pull of the mate bond.

And then Caleb dropped the final blow.

"Delilah is pregnant with my child."

The news hit like a wave.

She's pregnant?

I started laughing.

It was a broken sound, half-sob and half-hysterical, spilling from my lips like water from a cracked vessel. The laughter echoed through the silent chamber, unnerving and wild.

Everyone stared. Even Tyler muttered, "Has she lost her mind?"

But I couldn't stop. The tears were streaming down my face, mixing with the blood, but I couldn't stop laughing.

Caleb. My mate. Had rejected me for the woman who had spent years tormenting me. Had gotten her pregnant. Had chosen her over me.

He would pay.

They would all pay.

I looked at Caleb, and for the first time in my life, I didn't see a man I loved. I saw a monster. A coward. A traitor.

And I hated him.

I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone.

"Get the killer out of my sight," my father ordered. "Dump her beyond the border. Let her fend for herself and if she ever comes back, kill her on sight."

The warriors grabbed me again. I let them drag me towards the gates. I didn't fight. I had no strength left.

But as they threw me across the border, as I hit the cold ground beyond pack lands, I made a vow.

They would know the fury of a rejected wolf.

I would make sure of it.