I Reject You

(Clara's POV)

"Just got here," I said.

Wendy straightened from Damien's embrace, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand—deliberately making sure I could see her swollen lips.

"Oh, Clara." She smoothed her hair and glanced at Damien, then back at me with a small, apologetic smile. "I should have closed the door. I didn't want anyone to see Damien looking so vulnerable — he hates that, you know."

My face showed nothing. I turned to leave.

"Wait." Wendy stopped me. Her voice softened even further. " Clara, this is awkward, but…Didn't Damien give you a ring before? A Luna ring?"

My feet stopped.

That ring. Engraved with Black Moon's wolf-head crest. On the inside band, in Damien's own hand: "Under the same moon."

When he'd given it to me, he'd said: "There's only one Luna ring. Once it's on, don't take it off." That was two years ago. I'd worn it every single day since—through showers, through sleep, through combat training.

"I noticed it the first day I arrived, actually." Wendy's tone was gentle, careful — as though handling something fragile. "I never said anything because I could tell it meant a lot to you."

She paused, pressing her lips together. "It's just... some of the pack members have started asking questions. They're confused about who the Luna is. I don't want that to put you in a difficult position, Clara. People can be so cruel with gossip."

I didn't move.

"Can't you bear to part with it?" Her eyes glistened with what looked like sincerity. "Don't worry, I won't take your ring. Damien will buy me a new one. It just doesn't suit you anymore. You can take it off and keep it as a keepsake; I don't mind."

"It's not that I can't part with it." I raised my left hand, gripped the silver band, and pulled it straight off. "I just think you're right. This 'old thing' really isn't fit to be on your finger."

In full view of Wendy, I opened my fingers.

The ring dropped straight into the metal trash can beside the door.

The silence in the room turned lethal.

Wendy stood frozen. I didn't spare a single glance at Damien on the bed. I walked out of the room.

Three years of obsession, extinguished the moment he called our sacred bond "damned." Gone, like smoke.

Back in my own ward, a nurse wheeled in the medication cart.

"Miss Clara, the Alpha sent a message just now." She spoke while adjusting the sterile dressing on my neck. "He says your injuries are severe and orders you to withdraw from The Hunt immediately. He also said you can go to his ward privately if you need anything..."

"I'm not withdrawing." I cut her off.

I was going to win. I wasn't entering The Hunt to prove anything to Damien. I was doing this for myself.

I wanted freedom. Complete, absolute freedom.

The day of the competition finally arrived.

The arena was packed—Black Moon, Red Moon, Silver Claw, Frost Fang. Nearly every pack in the Northern Territory had sent representatives. The Hunt was the Alliance's oldest tradition, drawing crowds rivaling a war.

The rules were simple: enter the Black Forest. Survive three days. Find "Moon Goddess Tears"—a rare herb growing in the deepest reaches of the forest—and defeat at least one Shadow Hound.

Shadow Hounds were the Black Forest's guardian beasts. Thick-skinned and vicious, they'd killed countless powerful werewolf warriors.

Anyone who completed both conditions could demand one thing from the Alpha—anything—and the Alpha could not refuse.

The moment I stepped into the arena entrance, Damien appeared.

He cut through the crowd toward me, his stride fast, his brow knotted tight. He stopped directly in my path.

"Go back."

"I'm here to compete." I didn't look at him. My gaze went past his shoulder toward the arena.

"It's dangerous. Your wounds haven't healed—"

"That's none of your concern."

Wendy hurried up from behind, latching onto Damien's arm, her face arranged in worry. "Clara, I know you're brave, but don't risk your life just for attention! Three contestants died in the Black Forest last year—all Gamma warriors with higher bloodlines than yours—"

"I'm not looking for attention." I cut her off. "I'm here for something else."

Damien's expression changed. He knew exactly what I meant—Moon Goddess Tears. The herb that could sever a mate bond.

As an Omega, if I wanted to voluntarily break the bond with an Alpha, I needed Moon Goddess Tears. Without it, the backlash from a broken bond would kill me.

He grabbed my wrist, squeezing hard enough to make me wince. "Clara, now is not the time for this."

"Let go."

"You're going back." He turned to several pack members behind him. "Take her away."

Three elite warriors closed in on me.

I didn't struggle. Didn't argue. I took one deep breath, and over everyone's heads, I shouted toward the officials' platform—

"Chairman! I am an Alliance-registered certified contestant! May I enter?"

Hundreds of spectators in the stands turned to stare.

I had done it in secret—passed the brutal physical and combat exams, earned the elite warrior medal from the Alliance Chairman himself.

With that title, I didn't need any Alpha's permission to enter any Alliance competition.

I'd originally planned to present this honor to Damien as a surprise. Now it had become my only tool to break free of him.

On the platform, the Alliance Chairman flipped through the registration book, then nodded. "Clara. Registration confirmed. You may enter."

Damien's face turned to stone.

I slipped through the gap between the warriors closing in on me and strode toward the arena entrance.

"Stop."

"You're not getting in." His voice was dangerously low. "I already had Wendy notify the Chairman to revoke your entry on medical grounds."

I stared at him, fury roaring in my chest. "Who gave you that right? I earned my place through my own strength—I don't need your charity, and I don't need your concern!"

"Because you're mine!" Damien roared. "If you get hurt in there—if you bleed—the backlash will hit me directly through the bond and compromise my ability to fight! Don't flatter yourself into thinking I actually care about you!"

Don't flatter yourself.

I stared at him for three seconds. Then I took one step forward.

"In that case—I, Clara, formally request that Alpha Damien dissolve our mate bond."

The entire arena fell silent.

Then the whispers erupted—"She's the Alpha's mate?" "That Omega is his true mate?" "They've been marked?"

Damien turned to stone. The crimson drained from his eyes in an instant. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

I held his bloodless gaze, raised my voice, and repeated every word:

"I want to break our mate bond. Permanently."