OPEN DISGRACE

AISHA

Just maybe... I didn't care anymore.

I was born a lowly Omega. In a world ruled by brutal Alphas and proud Betas, a female Omega was meant to be nothing, a servant, a shadow, someone who scrubbed floors and bowed her head in the dirt. But somehow, through pure grit and desire, I had risen to become a Luna. I had tasted true, explosive, bone-deep love with Samson, and I loved him far too much to care about my own reputation now.

Standing in front of my bedroom mirror, looking at the sharp photographs of my body laid out by the pool scattered across the mattress, a strange, eerie calmness washed over my soul.

If this was the end, so be it. But as I thought about Damian showing those picture stones to the entire High Council, a sharp, suffocating pain twisted deep in my chest. I could easily endure the public humiliate and the spitting crowd for myself—after all, I was used to being looked down upon as a commoner. But I could not bear to watch this humiliation ruin my dear Samson. If Damian exposed those pictures today, Samson’s title would be dragged through the mud, his pack would turn on him, and everything he worked for would crumble.

I couldn't let my love destroy him.

My eyes drifted to the small velvet pouch sitting on my vanity table. Inside sat a tiny glass bottle containing three drops of nightshade poison—a quick, painless venom that worked within seconds. I picked up the vial, slid it into my small silk evening purse, and snapped the clasp shut with a quiet click.

I was ready to take it anytime soon.

Maybe I will die today, I thought, staring at my reflection in the glass. And if I do, it is still going to be a massive victory in the Omega world. I came into this realm as a nameless slave, but I will die a Luna. I will get a grand, befitting Luna burial that no Omega in history has ever received. Yes, I didn't destroy Mabel with my own hands, but somehow... I won.

The bedroom door clicked open, breaking my quiet thoughts.

Damian stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed in a sharp black suit with silver Alpha pins lining his shoulders. He looked imposing, cold, and thoroughly victorious, his dark hair slicked back smoothly. He offered his hand to me with a dark, mocking smile lingering on his sharp lips.

"Shall we go, my sweet Luna?" Damian purred softly, his eyes flashing with lethal delight. "The grand presentation is waiting for us."

I turned around slowly. I was dressed in a sweeping black lace gown that hugged every curve of my body, complete with a high collar and sheer sleeves. I smoothed down the front of my dress, looked Damian straight in his cruel eyes, and took his offered hand with a bright, beautiful smile.

"Let's go, my love," I murmured, my voice perfectly steady.

We walked down the grand staircase together, looking like the picture-perfect Alpha and Luna of the Black Star pack. We stepped into the back of his sleek, black armored car, and the driver immediately pulled out of the estate gates, speeding down the highway toward Blue Wing. The ride was completely silent. Damian rested his hand casually on my thigh, his thumb rubbing small, possessive circles against my dress, holding his crystal recording stone tightly in his other pocket. I simply stared out the tinted window, my fingers lightly resting over my purse, holding the bottle of poison like a shield.

Twenty minutes later, the heavy iron gates of the Blue Wing estate swung open.

The grand courtyard was packed with hundreds of noble wolves, pack elders, high-ranking warriors, and distinguished guests from neighboring territories. Banners hung from the marble balconies, soft orchestral music floated through the warm afternoon air, and silver tables were piled high with expensive wine and roasted meats.

When our car came to a stop in front of the main pavilion, Damian stepped out first, rounding the door to assist me. As I stepped onto the polished stone floor, holding Damian's arm, the crowd went completely dead silent.

Alpha Samson was standing near the head elevated table, surrounded by his senior Elders. The moment his eyes landed on Damian walking beside me, Samson was visibly shocked. His jaw tightened instantly, his dark eyes widening in utter disbelief as he stared at his rival—the man who was supposed to be hiding or dead—walking openly into his own territory arm in arm with the woman they both shared.

Before Damian could lead me toward the high noble chairs, an immediate opportunity came. A sudden burst of laughter and cheering erupted near the grand fountain as guards brought out several barrels of fine ale, drawing the crowd's attention away for a split second.

In that single moment of distraction, Samson moved like a phantom. He stepped past two Elders, brushed right past Damian’s side, and grabbed my hand, pulling me swiftly into the dark shadow of a marble pillar behind the grand staircase.

"Aisha!" Samson whispered urgently, his hand gripping my waist, his warm breath fanning over my face. His eyes were wide with intense concern as he looked at me. "What is he doing here? Why did you come with him?"

I looked into his handsome face, my heart aching with a deep, tragic grief. I wanted so desperately to throw my arms around his neck, to warn him about the pictures in Damian's pocket, to tell him that I had poison in my purse to save his honor. But I forced my voice to remain soft.

"He knows, Samson..." I whimpered softly, my eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He knows about us..."

Samson’s face softened instantly. A confident, reassuring smile touched his dark lips as he gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. He pressed his thumb against my chin, raising my face so I had to look into his brave, fiery eyes.

"Relax, my love," Samson smiled softly, his voice full of unwavering authority. "I have everything completely under control. Just trust me. Today, Mabel loses everything, and nothing Damian does can stop what I'm about to do."

He kissed my forehead tenderly—a quick, passionate touch—and then slipped back out into the crowd before anyone noticed his absence.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, stepped out from behind the pillar, and rejoined Damian, who was watching me with a cold, amused smirk. He didn't say a word, simply guiding me to our assigned seats on the raised VIP platform right beside the Elders.

Down in the center of the grand courtyard stood Mabel.

She looked pale, thin, and impeccably dressed in a lavish crimson gown, holding the newborn baby wrapped in a thick, gold-embroidered silk blanket. A long line of nobles and pack leaders were stepping forward one by one, dropping expensive gifts—gold coins, precious jewels, and ceremonial daggers—into silver chests placed beside her feet.

Looking at her sitting there, surrounded by artificial glory, today would have been one of the happiest days of my life. I had waited months to watch this murderer fall from grace. But somehow... it was not. My heart was far too heavy, far too cold, because I knew that Damian was up to something catastrophic, sitting right beside me like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

Suddenly, the grand orchestral music came to a sharp, sudden halt.

The musicians lowered their violins. The chatter among the nobles slowly died down as Alpha Samson stepped onto the center raised platform, towering over the crowd with his massive shoulders and dark, imposing presence.

The crowd cheered him up enthusiastically for a while, clapping their hands and shouting praises for the Alpha of Blue Wing. Samson raised his hand, signaling for silence.

Within seconds, the entire estate went completely dense. The air became thick with anticipation. Hundreds of eyes locked onto Samson, waiting for him to bless the newborn child and declare him the future heir of the Blue Wing territory.

Samson looked down at Mabel, his dark eyes turning into cold, unyielding ice. He looked out over the crowded yard, taking a deep, heavy breath that echoed through the silent courtyard.

"Pack Elders, noble leaders, and members of Blue Wing," Samson’s deep, booming voice echoed across the stone walls, cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. "You have all gathered here today to witness the presentation of a child. But I stand before the Goddess and my ancestors to speak the absolute truth..."

He pointed a long, steady finger directly at the baby in Mabel’s arms.

"This child here is NOT my son!" Samson declared loudly, his voice ringing with pure, devastating authority.

A collective gasp exploded through the entire crowd! Maids covered their mouths, Elders leaned forward in shock, and whispers spread like wildfire through the ranks.

Samson raised his voice even higher, ready to deliver his calculated speech about Jack the trash remover and the DNA results.

"The Luna has betrayed this pack! She has brought a lowborn bastard into my house, and I have the proof—"

"I KNOW HE IS NOT YOUR SON!"

A sharp, piercing voice shattered Samson’s speech into a million pieces.

The entire crowd froze in absolute horror. Every single eye snapped toward Mabel.

Mabel didn't cry. She didn't shrink back in shame. She didn't cower.

Instead, Mabel stood up slowly from her carved velvet chair, holding the sleeping baby firmly against her chest. She stepped right to the edge of the high platform, staring down at Samson with a terrifying, hysterical, and blood-chilling smile spread across her red lips.

"I know he is not your son, Samson!" Mabel screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing off the tall marble pillars so loudly that every single soul in the territory heard every word clearly. "And I NEVER said he is!"

She threw her head back and let out a sharp, crazy laugh that sent a shudder straight down my spine. She lowered her head, her eyes burning with pure, lethal hatred as she locked her gaze onto her husband in front of the entire High Council.

"Do you all want to know why this child isn't Samson's?!" Mabel roared, pointing her finger directly at Samson's frozen face. "Because Alpha Samson is completely IMPOTENT! He is a useless, shooting-blanks coward who CANNOT father a child!"