Chapter 2: Scum Couples

~Ioana~

"Did you ever think that I—Ramon—would settle for you? For less? You're nothing but a wolfless Omega—unworthy of me. That's why I," releasing Gabrielle's waist, he took a step forward, his voice resounding through the space, "Ramon Redmoon—"

'No no no,' I repeated, an ominous thought settling,

"—soon to be Alpha to the Redmoon Pack—"

'Don't tell me he wants to…' My knees buckled, hitting the ground with a thud. Pain flared. I placed my hands over my ears. 'I don't want to hear it. Please! Please don't!' But it trickled into my ears no matter how tightly I cupped them.

"—reject you, Ioana Blackmoon of the Redmoon Pack." He scoffed. "Now get out of here before you bring more shame to this ceremony. Your existence already taints it," he hissed, voice sharp as a knife to my chest.

'How could he?'

The crowd gasped at his words. His words were as much of a shock to everyone as they were to me.

"I can't believe I witnessed a legendary rejection…"

"The last rejection was when? 30 years ago?"

"No, it was 45 years ago—dimwit, you should read more books!"

"Can't blame me, it's almost a myth at this point."

"I know he might not like her, but isn't that too… extreme?"

"It's not extreme! I'd do the same if I was the one given such a mate."

"Yeah, can't believe she ever thought she'd be our Luna. She must have been dreaming. Well, it's time to wake up now."

"But after all… she was given by the Moon Goddess, Selenara…"

Their words came and went, never settling in my mind. My eyes wide open—I was rejected. The word seemed to echo in my mind. My breath came out in short gasps.

For what? Why? Is it because I'm not good enough? Did I disgrace him? Or perhaps offend him?

My crumbling mind shuffled through, trying to find a reason to grasp onto—and failed.

I groaned, clutching at my chest, a knife-stabbing pain slicing excruciatingly slow, as if someone used a blunt knife to cut open my heart.

The mate rejection… it's here. I couldn't deny it any longer. I was rejected.

I wanted to cry and at the same time scream in pain, curling in on myself like the many times I've done after being slapped by Mother for stealing scraps despite being starved, for playing with Gabrielle’s doll.

Chatters grew. Word spread—faster than the blinding pain coursing through my veins. I bit my lips, my teeth digging into my bloodless lip, blood trickling downward.

The dagger-like stares. The words that came hammering and digging into my injuries—

"The Goddess must be covering her face in shame."

"Who does she think she is?"

"I've always hated her anyway."

"Look at her. Fragile, powerless, and unworthy. She’s not fit to stand beside the Alpha’s son."

Taking the chance to trample upon me like they have always done.

My hands dug into my palms, but the pain did little to relieve what I was feeling.

They spoke against me, after everything I've done. I have lived all my life as a slave to the pack, a servant trying to please them. But in the end—is this what I get? Is this my reward?

I don't agree! Fingers clenched, I felt unwilling to agree, to accept, to go back to the dark days—living in and out in a monotonous cycle.

He gave me hope. He made me feel loved, a warmth I lacked. Why did he cruelly snatch it back?! I thought he loved me—just yesternight he said he'll cherish me!

I clenched my jaw, gritting my teeth, holding back my tears. I didn’t want him to see me crying—devastated because of him. I couldn't cry!

So I straightened my back, despite the mountain-like gaze bearing down on me. I wanted to walk away, with my head high. To show him that even if he rejects me—I can still live without him.

At least, that was the plan. But when I heard a high-pitched feminine voice intervene—

"Ramon, you were too brutal. I don't think we should have done it like this. I mean, look at her…" she pointed towards me with painted scarlet nails, "she's trembling really terribly, and she's pale. If the trees rustle one more time she might faint, and I'm worried. You know she's my younger sister and I would never knowingly do something that will hurt her." Her arm snaked around his waist, the other trailing down his chest. "After all…" placing a hand on her chest, she blinked rapidly, her golden tresses faintly shimmering under the moon's silvery light, her eyes overflowing with sympathy—an image of compassion. "She deserves the right to know the truth… of our love,” her words laced with mockery and pretentiousness, turning to my mate.

She beamed at him, fingers entwining—and he smiled back, his eyes melting into liquid chocolate. I've never seen him like that.

I swore I heard something snap—it was my rationality.

Her words were the catalyst—the betrayal, the humiliation, the shame, the anguish—it all surged like a raging tide, a tsunami slamming against the flimsy restraint left.

My heart ached. It bled, as I let out a depreciating, depressing chuckle. "So everything was fake, wasn't it? It was never real?" I asked no one in particular.

"So why? Why? Why?!"

Just then—

Everything faded away.

The insults. The pity. The scorn.

They all disappeared, into the inky darkness that clouded my sight. Its tentacles latched onto me, dragging me into its depths.

I flailed my limbs wildly, desperate. I had to escape—but it tightened, whispering to give up and give in.

But.

Just then, like a switch flipped. My vision sharpened, becoming clear. My eyes locked on the duo.

The world was bathed in blood red.

With a boom, it was like something shattered.

A rage that couldn't be explained in words clouded my mind—eating it up until nothing was left.

Then, a voice—unfamiliar but intimate—rumbling with power that erupted goosebumps all over my body, spat:

"Scum."