Too Late, Prince! I’m No Longer Your Chubby Luna

LYDIA POV

“I, Patrick Silversson, reject you, Lydia Blackthorn, as my mate and Luna.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

I stared at him, frozen, as the mate bond—the bond that had just slammed into my chest only moments ago, ripped apart. Pain exploded behind my ribs so violently I gasped. My knees buckled. Tears burned my eyes before I could stop them.

“Why?” The word tore out of me, raw and broken. “You don’t even know me. You looked at me for three seconds and decided I was nothing. Why would you do that?”

Patrick’s eyes stayed cold. He didn’t flinch at the tears spilling down my face. He didn’t look sorry. He looked bored, almost irritated that I had spoken at all.

“Because the Moon Goddess made a mistake, and I will correct that mistake,” he said, loud enough for the entire hall to hear. “I reject you, fatass. Stay away from me.”

Laughter erupted around us like a living thing.

It started near the front and spread outward in waves—cruel, delighted, unrestrained. Ranked warriors threw their heads back. She-wolves covered their mouths but their eyes shone with vicious pleasure. Someone actually clapped. Another voice called out, “Finally, someone said it!” A third shouted, “The Moon Goddess must have been drunk!” The sound bounced off the high ceiling and slammed back into me from every direction.

My sister Seraphina’s giggle cut through it all, clear and bright and unmistakable. She stood only a few feet behind Patrick, one hand resting lightly on a warrior’s arm, looking like she had just been given the best gift of her life.

I couldn’t breathe. The broken bond felt like someone had reached into my chest with silver claws and torn out everything warm. Tears kept falling. I hated them. I hated that he was watching them fall. I hated that hundreds of eyes were watching them fall.

“Please” My voice cracked. “You didn’t even give me a chance. You don’t know anything about me.”

Patrick turned his back on me like I was a plague he's avoiding. He accepted a drink from someone without missing a beat. The celebration resumed around him as if the last minute had been nothing more than mild entertainment.

That was when my parents reached me.

My mother’s hand cracked across my face so hard my head snapped to the side. The sting was sharp and public. Gasps of fresh laughter rose from those closest to us. My father grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise and shook me once, hard.

“Stop embarrassing us,” he hissed, loud enough for the wolves nearby to hear every word. “No man in his right mind would ever take you as a mate. Look at you. Standing here crying like a child because the Alpha Prince refused to saddle himself with… this.” His eyes dragged over my body with open disgust, making sure everyone saw what he saw. “You should be thanking him for being honest. He could have humored you. Instead he saved the entire pack from the joke of watching you stand beside him.”

My mother slapped me again, lighter this time but just as humiliating. The sound still echoed. “Wipe your face. You’re making it worse. The Prince has standards. You never did. We told you for years to stay quiet and stay out of sight. Now look what you’ve done.”

More laughter. It felt endless. I could feel every eye in the hall on me—the plus-size Beta’s daughter, rejected by the Alpha Prince and now being corrected by her own parents in front of the entire kingdom. A group of younger ranked wolves near the dessert table openly pointed. One of the elder she-wolves shook her head with a pitying smile that somehow felt worse than the open mockery. Someone muttered, “Even her own blood knows she’s a lost cause.”

Tears kept streaming down my cheeks no matter how hard I tried to stop them. My wolf was screaming inside me, wounded and confused and terrified. The bond was gone. The hope that had flared for three stupid seconds was gone. All that remained was the taste of blood in my mouth and the sound of my parents defending the man who had just publicly destroyed me.

A warrior I had once healed in secret—just a small cut after training—looked straight through me as if I had never existed. An older omega woman who used to nod at me in the corridors turned her face away. Even the ones who had never been cruel before now stood silent, watching, choosing the safety of the crowd over a single word of defense.

Patrick still didn’t look back.

He simply walked deeper into the hall, already accepting congratulations, already smiling at something Seraphina said, as if the girl whose heart he had just shattered no longer existed. The pack closed around him like water. I had been erased in real time.

I stood there shaking, face stinging from the two open-handed slaps, tears falling freely now, while my parents dragged me toward the side doors. My mother’s voice was low and vicious in my ear, but she made no effort to keep it private.

“You will never speak of this again. You will never approach him again. And if you ever make a scene like this in public, we will disown you ourselves. Do you understand me? You are a humiliation. You have always been a humiliation. Tonight you simply made it impossible to ignore.”

My father added, louder, for the benefit of anyone still watching, “The Alpha Prince did what any sensible man would do. Be grateful he didn’t let the rejection drag on.”

The doors opened. Cold night air hit my wet face.

Behind me, the celebration continued without missing a beat. Music swelled. Glasses clinked. Laughter rose again—lighter now, as if the entertainment portion of the evening had ended and everyone could return to enjoying themselves. I heard Seraphina’s voice one last time, bright with satisfaction, telling someone that the Moon Goddess had clearly come to her senses.

I didn’t fight my parents as they pulled me outside. I just cried—ugly, helpless sobs that I could no longer hold back—while the broken pieces of the mate bond bled quietly inside my chest and the words “no man in his right mind” repeated over and over in my head.

Every face in that hall had watched.

Every voice that mattered had stayed silent or joined in.

My own blood had stood beside the man who called me fatass and told me I should be thankful.

That was the moment something inside me cracked.

Not just from the rejection.

But From the pure, undiluted betrayal of an entire pack that had looked at my pain and chosen to laugh.