From His Rejection to His Uncle’s Obsession

Veda’s POV

“Fuck me harder, Julian.”

My sister’s voice, thick with a jagged, breathless triumph, was the first thing that hit me. It sliced through the heavy, soundproofed doors of the executive suite a second before I pushed them open.

I stood frozen in the sliver of amber light spilling into the hallway. For twenty-two years, I had been a ghost in this corporate high-rise, the lowest-ranked omega, a girl who scrubbed grease from industrial kitchens while dreaming of the night my invisibility would end.

Tonight was the Mating Gala.

Tonight, I was to be named Luna.

But the scent pouring from the room which smelled of expensive bourbon and the suffocating, raw ozone of an Alpha’s arousal, didn't belong to a celebration.

It belonged to a betrayal.

I pushed the door wider, the word Julian dying in my throat as the scene scorched my retinas.

Julian wasn't preparing for the ceremony. He was buried deep inside my sister, Camilla.

She was draped over his mahogany desk, her fingers clawing at the leather inlay as Julian drove into her from behind. His hands were locked brutally around her hips, his knuckles white, snapping her back to meet every violent thrust. He wasn't the Charming Prince the pack magazines idolized. He was feral. His teeth were grazed against the sensitive skin of her neck, right where a mating mark should have been.

"Harder," Camilla hissed, her blonde hair a tangled mess of gold across the desk. "Show me you don't want that pathetic mouse. Tell me what you really crave."

Julian let out a low, guttural growl that shook the air. "Fuck, Cami... you know she’s just a duty. You’re the only one who actually feels like a queen under me."

He didn't see me. He was lost in the friction, his hips snapping forward with a wet, rhythmic thud. I watched, paralyzed, as he reached around to grip her breast, squeezing until she cried out in a sharp mix of pain and pleasure.

This was the fated love he had promised me in the dark?

Camilla’s eyes suddenly flew open. She saw me.

She didn't flinch. Instead, a venomous smirk curled her lips. She reached back, grabbing Julian’s hair and pulling him closer, her eyes locked onto mine as he reached a frantic, desperate crescendo. She wanted me to watch the exact moment he spilled himself inside her.

Julian let out a choked roar, shuddering against her as the room settled into a heavy, post-coital haze.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of my own heart shattering into a million jagged pieces.

"Julian?" My voice was a broken thread, barely audible over the hum of the city's traffic below.

He stiffened. Slowly, he withdrew from her, the sound of parting skin making my stomach turn. He turned around, adjusting his trousers with a cold, clinical detachment that was more terrifying than any outburst. He looked at me, and there was no shame in his eyes. Only irritation, as if I were a smudge of dirt on his expensive Italian shoes.

"Veda," he said, his voice flat and dismissive. "You’re early."

"You’re... you’re with her? Tonight?" I looked at Camilla, who was casually straightening her silk slip, her neck covered in dark, fresh marks that looked like brands of my own failure. "We’re supposed to be mated in an hour. The entire pack is waiting. The Goddess chose me."

Julian stepped toward me, his Alpha aura flaring in a suffocating, heavy weight designed to make an omega buckle and submit. I felt my knees tremble, the power of his rank pressing down on my lungs.

"Let’s be clear, Veda. The Moon Goddess gave me a mate, but she didn't give me a Luna. You are a servant. You have no power, no influence, and no fire. You’re a shadow. The pack needs strength to navigate the corporate wars and the territorial disputes. They need Camilla."

"You can't just ignore the bond," I whispered, tears blurring my vision until the world was nothing but smears of neon light.

"Watch me," he hissed, leaning down so his face was inches from mine. He smelled of sweat, bourbon, and my sister. It was a scent that would haunt my nightmares.

"You will go out there. You will stand on that stage. And you will keep your mouth shut. If you humiliate me by making a scene or crying like a wounded pup, I will make sure you never walk again. I’ll have you stripped of your name and cast into the slums. Do you understand?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He brushed past me, his shoulder catching mine and nearly knocking me over, leaving me in the wreckage of my own heart.

The ballroom was a cathedral of glass and cold ambition, the neon city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows like multicolored blood. Every high-ranking wolf in the district was there, their eyes glittering with expectation and the cruel curiosity of the elite.

I stood on the marble dais, my heart a dying bird fluttering in a cage of ribs. My dress, which had felt like a dream, now felt like a shroud. Across from me, Julian stood tall, the image of a perfect, golden Prince, his hair combed back, his expression regal and unbothered.

The Council Elder, Alaric, stepped forward, his voice booming through the speakers, commanding the attention of the hundreds in attendance.

"Julian Kingsley, future Alpha of the Kings, do you accept the mate chosen by the Moon? Do you take Veda Bennett to be your Luna, your partner, and the mother of your heirs?"

The room went silent. I reached out a hand, a desperate, pathetic hope still flickering in my chest… a hope that he would see me, that he would choose the bond over his own pride.

Julian didn't take it. He looked at the crowd, then at me, his lip curling in a sneer of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"No," Julian declared, his voice ringing like a bell through the hall. "I reject her. Veda Bennett is a defect. A weak omega who cannot carry the weight of this crown or the future of this pack. I will not be tethered to a servant. I sever the bond here and now."

The snap was literal.

A physical agony ripped through my chest as the invisible thread between us was torn out by the roots, leaving a raw, bleeding hole in my soul. I fell to my knees, a scream trapped in my throat, as the crowd erupted into shocked murmurs and cruel laughter.

"However," Julian continued, looking over at Camilla, who stood in the front row looking radiant, the lights catching the diamonds at her throat, "I will not leave the Bennett line unjoined. To ensure the strength of the Kings, I claim Camilla as my chosen mate."