Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By His Uncle

Seraphine's POV

What was more disgraceful than not being able to produce even a drop of slick in the heat of intimacy with your mate?

A ruined bloodline.

And right now, I was wallowing in both.

"You can't do anything right." He rasped, tugging at the underside of his balls.

I laid bare on our matrimonial bed. Like a turkey spread out on a tray during thanksgiving.

I tried. Goddess I tried. But my body wasn't responding.

Fael leaned down. There was bold frustration in his eyes. My heart sank when he jutted his chin toward me in disappointment so thick I could taste it in the air.

"Never. Never Seraphine. Do you hear me?" I whimpered, his grip on my cheeks was too firm. "Never have I had to use any lubricant with any of my women. But with you, it's like a recurring rite for fuck's sake!"

"Fael. Please. Just... give me a moment. If you allow me to—"

"Allow you to do what? Touch yourself?"

He shifted his knee off the bed and pulled his pants back on.

"So your hands are suddenly magical huh? Touching yourself will somehow stimulate a reaction from you that I cannot?"

"That's not wh—"

"Seraphine. It's one thing that you were payment for a debt. And it's another for you to talk down on my prowess as a man."

Goddess. I would never.

"Fael. If you—"

He raised a finger up, cutting me off completely as he tussled with the zipper. He was still hard, the imprint of him visible still. I wanted him too, so badly. I couldn't let him leave.

I lowered myself down from the cream coloured sheets and onto the ground. I had a plan forming in my head, and if I eased him into it, it could be a solution we mutually desired.

"Fael. What if you present me in front of the pack as yours, officially? Officially. Maybe that is why my wolf is hesitant to produce slick."

The laughter that followed was loud. Fael's buckle shook in his hand from how hard he laughed.

"This agenda again." He shook his head. "Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Same old, same old."

I refused to give up. I crawled on my knees to him. Placing both palms at his feet.

"At least give it a thought."

I thought he was going to get angry, or at least leave and slam the door in my face. But Fael lifted me by the arms till we were face level with each other. His left hand wandered to my derriere and he gripped both butt cheeks. Parting them and revealing the hole that sat so obediently between.

His lips met mine for a moment.

But we didn't feel the spark of the bond.

And we both knew why.

He kissed me, slowly, and then pulled away. Stroking my cheek.

"You want me to parade you around the pack like mine? Right? You want a full coronation? Right? You want me to... wash you during your heat and cater to you after every fuck, maybe spoon-feed you and whisper affirmations to you every day?"

"Who wouldn't want that from her mate, Fael. Every she-wolf would."

His entire body withdrew from mine like I had burned him. Like he was repulsed by a barrier between us.

"You shouldn't want that Seraphine! You shouldn't. Every she-wolf out there can because they are competent, strong, and not you."

My lips quivered, a lump suddenly formed at the base of my throat.

"You are the opposite of an ideal she-wolf. I mean... look at you." With a harsh spin I was standing before a mirror. Staring at my reflection.

"All I did was claw at your arms the last time we had sex and you haven't even healed till now. You are a pitiful omega from an even worse lineage. And the one thing average omegas can do, to produce slick, it takes a miracle for your body to even do that."

The mirror didn't lie.

My skin was still mottled with half-healed scratches, thin red lines that refused to fade the way a normal wolf's would. My collarbones protruded out too much, my hips too narrow, my breasts small and unremarkable.

Everything about me looked unfinished.

His hand stayed clamped on my shoulder.

"Tell me, Seraphine," he whispered, "what exactly am I supposed to present to them? This?"

He dragged a single claw down my spine.

"A mate who bruises when I breathe on her too hard? A Luna who can't even get wet for her own destined male?"

I tried to swallow the sob clawing up my throat. It came out as a broken whimper anyway.

His mouth brushed the shell of my ear.

"You think a ceremony will fix what is broken inside you? You think a crown and a pretty dress will suddenly make your wolf roll over and beg for me?"

"Maybe," I whispered, hating how small my voice sounded. "Maybe if the bond was sealed... if the pack acknowledged it... my body would finally—"

"Your body doesn't want me, little one." He laughed. "Your body knows what your mouth is too proud to say. You were never meant to be Luna. You were meant to be payment for your father's debt. Nothing more."

He released me so suddenly I stumbled forward.

My breath fogged the mirror, blurring my tear-streaked face.

Behind me, his belt buckle clinked as he fastened it.

"I'm going out," he said. "I'll have the maids get you something to eat, since food is the only thing you get excited for." A smirk graced his lips. "It's not like you add on any flesh despite all you eat."

I sobbed against the mirror. Finding nothing worthwhile to say.

Was I even worth anything at this point?

"I'm going to see Liora tonight," he shrugged. "She never needs a miracle to get wet for me."

The door shut behind him and my heart detonated.

I crumpled like a fold of dirty clothing to the ground. My limbs trembled violently and I assumed it was one of those random unstable shifts.

But instead my vision tunneled and blacked out. My stomach felt disturbed and I coughed up something into my hand.

"Gah... w-what..."

It was whitish and murky.

Poison.