One

My ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend chose my father’s hall to flaunt their marriage and rub it in my face.

Earlier that evening, my father had warned me to smile, be polite, no grudges tonight. The yearly festival, it seemed, mattered more to him than his daughter's happiness.

Alan and Genevieve cut through the crowd, heading straight for me. Genevieve's pregnant belly led the way, like a taunt.

“Marissa! So glad to see you,” Alan said, wrapping his hand around his wife's waist. “We missed you at the wedding,” he added as if that made it better.

Genevieve touched her belly. “Yes, dear. We hope you can forgive us. For the baby, you know.”

I clenched my fists. “How sweet,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Two trash cans finally found their matching dumpster.”

My stepmother's voice cut through the air. She stood behind me, giving me a disapproving look.

“That’s enough, Rissa,” she said, loud enough for nearby guests to turn and stare. “You must apologize to Alan and Genevieve right now. They are our guests.”

Heat flooded my face. Alan smirked. Genevieve acted like she'd done nothing wrong.

Apologize to traitors?

I was the one burned. Six months ago, I was the last to learn that my so-called boyfriend had been screwing my best friend.

I had loved Alan enough to think he’d never betray me. I brought him gifts to celebrate a brutal court victory, then opened his apartment door with my key and found him in bed with Genevieve.

He wasn’t just cheating. He was worshipping her like he’d been starving.

Alan, who always said he didn’t go down on women, was on his knees for her like a possessed dog.

Genevieve shrieked and scrambled for the sheets, but I couldn’t move. I stood there, dazed, like I'd been pushed off a cliff.

This was Genevieve, the one I ran to with every joy, who held me through every loss.

I cried on her shoulder when I found out my father was cheating on my dying mother, and again when his mistress moved in two weeks after the funeral.

Genevieve had sat on the floor with me when I couldn’t get out of bed and had brought soup and silly movies.

The same Genevieve was naked in my boyfriend’s bed.

The person I believed was the purest soul I knew wasn’t just flawed. She was a demon.

I slapped her. She slapped me back and called me a bitter bitch.

She looked me dead in the face. “Alan never loved you. You're fucking exhausting. Always needy. Always desperate to be perfect. And guess what? We’re having a baby.”

Alan chuckled like it was all a joke. “You’ll understand when someone finally manages to tolerate you.”

As if that wasn’t enough, the next morning, a clipped video went viral overnight. Genevieve sobbed into the camera, clutching her stomach, claiming I was Alan's bitter ex who wanted her dead.

Alan called me a bully, lying he'd broken up with me months ago, and said I made him feel like a backup plan.

Everyone believed them.

Even my father and his lousy wife stood by their side. They watched me unravel and never once reached out.

My stepmother’s demand for an apology hung in the air. Alan and Genevieve stared at me like they actually expected one.

I laughed.

“Apologize? For calling trash what it is?” I turned to my stepmother. “They dragged their lies into this hall, not me. I won’t say sorry for telling the truth. Maybe you relate to them because you’re just as rotten.”

She gasped.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. The real guests have arrived. I’m done playing along with this circus.”

My heart pounded with the finality of someone being a victim.

My father was hosting the annual Southern Werewolf–Lycan festival, and tonight, I planned to leave.

If I stayed any longer, I might go crazy. By morning, the Lycans would be gone. If I timed it right, I could disappear with their convoy and never return.

Everything shifted the moment they arrived. The Lycans had arrived late, as always, moving with a power that sucked the air from the room.

Their King and Queen walked in first. Like everyone else, I bowed my head.

Then I saw Justin, the future king.

I did not like Lycans, but Justin was hot. Tall and broad with a presence that filled the room.

He wore black that hugged his frame and made his golden-brown eyes blaze. His dark hair gleamed under the lights.

He looked bored.

Beside him walked Wendy, the Lycan beauty queen, gripping his arm with confidence.

The whispers started.

“Their children will be perfect.”

As Justin approached, something hit me. My body locked.

My nose picked an intoxicating scent. Pine, cedar, wet earth.

My wolf roared inside me. “He's our mate! Go to him!”

Joy filled my lungs. I stepped forward, eyes locked on Justin. Each breath felt lighter.

I have a mate.

The words rang through me like a song.

Justin. Future King. Billionaire. Powerful. Hot as hell.

Mine!

I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t defective. I wasn’t the girl left behind by a cheating ex who thought foreplay was forbidden and whose idea of romance was splitting the bill at a fast food drive-thru.

It was actually offensive to even mention Justin and Alan in the same breath. Justin probably had a black card just for breathing.

Something strange happened. Justin's eyes didn’t search for mine. His body didn’t tense. He kept walking.

My feet froze mid-step as I realized what this meant.

Of course. Why would someone like him want someone like me?

I stood there, like a fool in a fantasy.

Was he going to reject me?

My alpha blood had to count. I waited for him to stop, to feel it, to see me.

He kept walking, no sign he’d felt a thing.

My hand shot out to the nearest pillar. I gripped it.

In my pack, only males acknowledged the bond first. If a female did, she was branded desperate.

I couldn’t risk that. If he rejects me in public, I’d become a joke.

Wendy leaned in and kissed his cheek. He didn’t stop her. My stomach dropped.

I was still trying to figure out what to do when my father grabbed my arm. He pulled me forward, towards the Lycans.

“Your Majesty!” he said to Justin, his voice overly loud and eager. “You must meet my daughter, Marissa. Strong bloodline, an exceptional lawyer.”

He sounded like he was selling cheap goods at the market.

For a foolish second, a spark of hope flickered in me.

Justin finally looked at me. His eyes slid over my face slowly, but there was nothing warm in them. Just mild amusement, like I was something cheap on display.

He glanced at Wendy, and something shifted. A smile tugged at his lips, meant just for her.

“As you can see, I’m already well accompanied,” he said to my father.

Wendy smiled sweetly at me. “He has very particular tastes, dear. Clearly not yours.”

They walked away, side by side, never looking back.

I stood frozen, trying to breathe past the crushing weight in my chest.

Then Genevieve’s voice rang out behind me.

“Oh, poor Rissa. Rejected by your own kind, and now by a Lycan Prince!”

She patted her stomach with a smug smile, while one of her friends snorted beside her.

The shame came fast and hot.

This wasn’t just rejection. It was a public execution.