The Rejected Luna's Revenge

The first thing I feel is the tear.

It isn't a metaphor. It isn’t a heartbreak. It is a physical, visceral ripping, like a clawed hand reaching into my chest, wrapping around the golden thread that binds me to Julian, and yanking it apart.

I gasp, my hand flying out to grip the cold marble pillar beside me. The champagne flute in my other hand shatters against the floor, the crystal exploding into a hundred glittering pieces against my silver heels. The sound is swallowed by the string quartet playing across the grand ballroom, but a few nearby pack members turn their heads.

I don’t care. I can’t breathe.

My wolf, Lyra, throws her head back and howls. It is a sound of pure, unadulterated agony that echoes inside my skull. She thrashes against the confines of my mind, frantic and wounded, trying to find the other half of her soul.

Where is he? Why is he doing this? she whimpers.

I force my eyes open, my vision swimming. The Midsummer Gala is in full swing. The room is a sea of designer gowns, tailored tuxedos, and the glittering chandeliers that hang from the vaulted ceilings of the pack estate. Everyone is beautiful. Everyone is watching.

And there he is.

Julian stands on the main stage, a microphone in his hand. He looks devastatingly handsome in his black suit, his blonde hair perfectly styled. But his blue eyes are cold, hard, and entirely devoid of the love he swore to me three years ago.

Tapping a silver fork against his glass, he waits for the room to fall silent.

"Thank you all for coming," Julian’s voice booms through the speakers, smooth and arrogant. "I have an announcement to make regarding the future of the Bloodmoon Pack."

I try to straighten up, but another wave of pain crashes over me. It feels like my bones are being hollowed out. I bite down on my bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste floods my mouth, grounding me.

Stand up, Kaia. Don't you dare fall.

"I am officially rejecting my mate, Kaia," Julian says.

The room gasps. A collective, horrified intake of breath. Hundreds of eyes snap to me, standing frozen by the pillar, my face pale and my hands trembling.

Julian doesn't even look at me. He turns and holds out his hand. From the shadows of the stage, a figure steps forward.

My sister.

Celeste is wearing a blood-red gown that clings to her curves, a diamond necklace glittering at her throat. She takes Julian’s hand, a triumphant, vicious smirk curving her lips. She looks directly at me, and her smile widens.

"Celeste is my true mate," Julian declares, his voice dripping with pride. "She is the strength this pack needs. As of tonight, she is my Luna."

My wolf stops howling. She goes dead silent.

"Furthermore," Julian continues, his eyes finally finding mine in the crowd. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thick, leather-bound folder. My folder. The one containing two years of my work as the pack’s Head Financial Strategist. The multi-million dollar investment strategies I built from the ground up. "Effective immediately, Kaia is relieved of her duties. Celeste will be taking over the financial department."

He hands the folder to Celeste. She takes it, her fingers brushing his, and the crowd bursts into nervous, sycophantic applause.

The pain in my chest reaches a fever pitch. It feels as though someone has poured gasoline on the bond and struck a match. I am burning from the inside out. A rejected mate bond can drive a wolf feral. It can literally kill.

Julian and Celeste step off the stage. The crowd parts for them like the Red Sea. They walk directly toward me.

I force myself to release the pillar. I will not cower. I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Julian stops a few feet away, looking down at me. There is no guilt in his expression. Only pity, and a cruel satisfaction.

"Don't look so broken, Kaia," he sneers, his voice low enough that only I can hear him over the applause. "You were never enough for me. You were too ambitious. Too cold. Celeste actually knows how to be a woman."

Celeste steps up beside him, looping her arm through his. She tilts her head, her eyes glittering with malice. "Don't worry, big sister," she purrs. "I'll take good care of your work. It's the least I can do."

Something inside me snaps. But it isn't the bond.

It’s the fear. The pain. The grief. It all incinerates in a flash of white-hot rage.

Lyra lifts her head, and she isn't whimpering anymore. She is snarling.

I feel a sudden, strange pull. My gaze drifts past Julian’s shoulder, past the sea of mocking faces, and up to the shadowed balcony that overlooks the ballroom. The Alpha’s private box.

I can’t see a face. But I can feel him.

A heavy, predatory gaze presses down on me, 

suffocating and electric. A massive, broad-shouldered silhouette stands at the railing, completely still. The sheer power radiating from that shadow is enough to make my wolf stop snarling and take notice.

The Alpha.

He is watching me. Not his son. Not the pack. Me.

I straighten my spine, the blood from my bitten lip staining my teeth. I look past Julian, directly up at the shadowed balcony, and I let my voice carry.

"You're right, Julian," I say.

The whispers stop. The ballroom goes dead quiet.

Julian frowns. "What?"

I turn my eyes back to him, a cold, sharp smile curving my lips. "You were never enough for me either. I prefer real Alphas."

I don't wait for his reaction. I don't look at Celeste's furious face. I turn my back on the both of them, and on the entire pack, and I walk out of the ballroom.

My heels click rhythmically against the marble floor. I hold my head high. I keep my shoulders back. I make it all the way through the grand double doors and into the empty, dimly lit corridor before my legs give out.

I collapse against the wall, sliding down until I am sitting on the floor. The adrenaline vanishes, and the bond-sickness returns with a vengeance. It feels like a hot iron is being pressed against my spine. I curl into a ball, gasping for air, tears finally streaming down my face.

He rejected me. He rejected me for her.

And I just publicly insulted him in front of the entire pack. I have no mate. I have no job. I am a rogue in my own home.

But as I sit there in the dark, clutching my chest, I can’t stop thinking about that shadow on the balcony.

I push myself off the floor. The pain is blinding, but I don't care. I wipe the tears from my face, smearing my makeup.

If Julian wants to throw me away, fine. But I am not leaving this pack. And I am not leaving without a fight.