Semua Bab The Rejected Omega's Redemption : Bab 281 - Bab 290

The guards wrestled against Kaelyn who was struggling to be free. Her blonde hair was tangled around her face, strands sticking to her damp cheeks as though she had been running. Her breath came in sharp, desperate gasps. “Let me through!” she cried, thrashing in the guards’ grip. “I need to speak with Alpha Eugene. Please—let me through!” The guards held firm, their armor clinking as they restrained her. The interruption shattered the chaos that had filled the hall. Gasps and murmurs rippled along the table. Becca stiffened where she stood, her fingers curling against her dress as a stone of unease dropped into her stomach. Kaelyn, of all nights had come here, why tonight? Her discomfort was palpable, though she tried to mask it with a calm facade. Mira’s brow furrowed in confusion. Beside her, Jack shifted uneasily, and Max leaned forward, his sharp gaze narrowing on the scene with suspicion. But it was Seraphina whose lips curved into an eager, delighted smile. She leaned b

The entire dining hall seemed frozen in that moment, wrapped in a silence so sharp it rang in everyone’s ears. Not a single soul dared to move, as though the world itself had halted in shock. Even the flames of the torches lining the walls flickered lower, bowing to the sudden gravity in the air. Kaelyn looked around desperately, searching for someone to reach out a hand, to tell her this wasn’t real, that this public strike across her face wasn’t what it seemed. But all she saw were faces: shocked, stunned, appalled, and a few, amused. Her breath came in ragged gasps. "She slapped me. Becca… slapped me." “Kaelyn…” Kyra’s voice finally cut through the suffocating stillness. She broke forward, rushing to her side. “Are you all right? Talk to me.” She reached for Kaelyn’s shoulders, trying to steady her trembling frame. But Becca’s voice was sharp, commanding, slicing through Kyra’s concern. “Don’t,” Becca said firmly, her tone ringing with authority. “Stop treating her like a

The marketplace at the center of Blackwood’s pack town was alive with its usual hum of voices. Becca stood near a long wooden table that had been carefully set up beneath a wide tent of cloth. Around her were neatly stacked baskets of wrapped herbs, glass bottles of healing tinctures, and bowls of steaming soup. Beside her, Mira directed three of her handpicked maids, each one carrying wooden trays filled with small clay cups of medicine to be distributed among the pack members who had formed a long queue. “Make sure each family receives enough for their children,” Mira reminded them firmly, her presence radiant and commanding as always. Becca, on the other hand, moved with quiet precision. She leaned down to hand a small jar of ointment to an elderly woman whose fingers trembled with age. “This will ease the pain in your joints,” Becca said softly, her voice gentle as she met the woman’s cloudy eyes. “Rub it in morning and night. If you still feel pain in a week, come back to

The halls of the Blackwood mansion stretched endlessly, their candle-lit torches throwing long shadows across polished stone. Portraits of past Alphas, stern and watchful, loomed over every turn. The silence of the place was heavy, broken only by the echo of two pairs of boots striking against the marble floor. Alpha Eugene walked with his hands clasped behind his back, his every stride deliberate and commanding. Max, his face mirroring the stiff atmosphere, kept pace at his side. Max’s sharp eyes scanned the tapestries lining the corridor, though his mind was clearly elsewhere. His jaw tightened before he finally broke the silence. “Eugene,” Max began, his voice steady but edged with concern as he picked up his pace to keep up with his Alpha, “we’ve picked up more reports of suspicious rogue movements near the eastern border. It’s not just scattered attacks anymore. Their patterns look… organized.” Eugene’s gaze flicked toward him, brows knitting. “Organized?” His tone carrie

The courtyard of Blackwood’s mansion held its breath. Mira’s gasp still lingered in the crisp air like the fading chime of a bell. The maids stood rooted to the spot, wide-eyed, as though they had just witnessed an omen whispered from the Moon Goddess herself. Seraphina’s hand rested elegantly against her stomach, her chin lifted in smug satisfaction. She had chosen her stage well: the open courtyard, Becca’s own maids, Mira by her side. She hadn’t simply arrived with a request. She had arrived with a performance. And Becca, caught off guard, had nearly stumbled into her trap. Her throat was dry when she finally found her voice. “Seraphina,” she said evenly, her tone carefully measured, “I am not the physician assigned to you. You should see your usual healer for such an examination.” Her gaze locked with Seraphina’s, reading the gleam in her dark eyes. There was a game being played here, and Becca was not naïve enough to believe otherwise. The maids shifted uncomfortably