All Chapters of The Rejected Omega’s Revenge : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Beatrice POVI woke to sunlight streaming through my window and a warm body pressed against mine.Darius.My mate.The word sent a thrill through me. I touched the mark on my neck, feeling the raised skin. Through the bond, I felt him wake. Felt his contentment, his love. It was overwhelming and wonderful all at once."Good morning," he murmured, kissing my shoulder. Right next to his mark."Good morning, mate." I turned in his arms, grinning.His eyes darkened. "Say that again.""Mate," I repeated, laughing as he growled and pulled me closer. "My mate. Mine.""Ours," he corrected, kissing me thoroughly.We were interrupted by pounding on my door."Beatrice, are you" Corin's voice cut off abruptly. "Is Darius in there?""Yes," I called out, not even embarrassed. "We're mated now."Silence. Then Corin's delighted laugh. "Finally! Kaelen owes me money. Stay there, I'm getting the others.""Corin, don't" But he was already gone, footsteps running down the hall."We're in trouble," Darius

Beatrice POVThe carriage rocked gently as we traveled, days of preparation had passed in a blur, and now we were actually going to the Council Summit.I ran my fingers along the velvet interior of the carriage. "I still don't understand why we couldn't just drive. The SUVs would be faster."Silas snorted. "And cause a riot? Little sister Wynterhold is the only pack with advanced technology. The others still live like it's the 1800s.""They see our cars, our electricity, our modern conveniences as a threat," Corin explained gently. "They think we're abandoning the old ways. Losing our connection to the Moon Goddess.""Which is ridiculous," Darius added. "But politics rarely makes sense.""So we play along," I said slowly. "Use carriages when we're around other packs so we don't seem too different.""Exactly." Silas smiled at me like I'd passed a test. "At home, we use what works. But outside? We present the image they expect. Traditional. Respectful of the old ways and Non-threatening

Darius POVThe Council Hall was massive inside. Vaulted ceilings stretched three stories high. Stone columns thick as ancient trees supported the weight. Tapestries hung from the walls, each one depicting a famous pack's history. And everywhere, wolves. Hundreds of them all staring at Beatrice.I kept my hand on her waist, fingers pressing gently through the silk of her dress. Reminding her I was here. Through the bond, I felt her nervousness but her determination to hide it."Breathe," I murmured against her ear.She did, her chest rising and falling. The mark on her neck caught the light, drawing even more eyes.Good. Let them see she was claimed, that she had a mate who would tear apart anyone who threatened her."Lord Wynter," a voice called out as an elderly wolf approached, with sharp grey eyes. Expensive robes marked with the Council seal. High Councilor Brennan, not my alpha, a different Brennan. This one was ancient, powerful, and completely political."High Councilor," Thero

Beatrice POVThe Great Hall was exactly that, it was great with massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, dripping with crystals. Long tables stretched the length of the room, set with silver and crystal. Pack banners decorated the walls with a rainbow of colors and symbols.And wolves, so many wolves. I walked in on Darius's arm, my brothers flanking us. Every head turned as conversations stopped mid-sentence. The weight of their stares pressed down on me like physical force."Steady," Darius murmured, his hand covering mine on his arm.I lifted my chin to let them look. I was wearing deep green silk, fitted perfectly to my body. My hair was pinned up, exposing the mark on my neck. We were escorted to a table near the head of the room. High-ranking positions, reserved for powerful families. The Wynter name carried weight, even here.I sat between Darius and Theron, feeling safer with them on either side. My other brothers filled out the rest of our table, creating a protective circl

Silas POVThe Council Hall had private meeting rooms. Small spaces where deals were made, alliances forged, and betrayals planned. I'd been in and out of them all morning, gathering intelligence.Now I stood in one of these rooms with a glass of whiskey, waiting for my contact. The morning sun filtered through tall windows, casting shadows across expensive furniture, i checked my watch. She was late.The door opened. A woman slipped in, closing it quietly behind her. Lady Helena of Northridge, she was in her early thirties, with dark hair that fell in waves past her shoulders and sharp eyes that missed nothing. Beautiful in a way that was dangerous, one of the few allies we had on the Council."Silas," she greeted, her lips curving into a smile. "You look tired.""Haven't been sleeping well," I admitted, leaning against the desk. I poured her a glass of whiskey. "Too much plotting to worry about.""Aren't we all." She took the glass, her fingers brushing mine. The touch lingered a sec