Semua Bab The King's Rejected Omega : Bab 11 - Bab 19

Daxton's POV A stunned silence filled the air. Then, like a wave crashing against the rocks, the whispers erupted. "Did she... she just reject him?" "A cursed, wolfless disgrace rejecting an Alpha?" "This has never happened before!" "How dare she?" Murmurs of shock rippled through the gathered werewolves, their voices rising in disbelief. The council elders exchanged tense glances, their expressions a mix of outrage and intrigue. A few scoffed, whispering about how foolish I was for choosing a woman like her. Some simply watched, waiting to see how I would react. But I barely heard them. Because my gaze was locked on her. Serafina stood before me, her posture straight, her chin tilted slightly upward. Beneath the white bridal veil, I could see the faintest glint of defiance in her violet eyes. She wasn’t shaking. She wasn’t cowering. She was daring me. Her rejection echoed in the air, defying centuries of tradition, defying the entire werewolf hierarchy, defying me

Serafina's POV I stopped, my stomach twisting. Slowly, I turned to see my brother, Eli. It seemed like he had followed me out of the hall. Eli strode toward me, his face set in a sneer. His eyes flickered briefly to Madam Rachel, but then he focused entirely on me. "I need a moment with my sister," he said. I understood the threat beneath his words, and immediately, I glanced at Madam Rachel and gave her a small nod. "It’s alright. I will speak with him." She hesitated, her gaze shifting between us. "I will give you a moment then," she said to me before finally walking ahead. The moment she turned the corner, Eli grabbed me. His fingers wrapped around my throat, and he shoved me against the cold stone wall. I gasped in pain as my hands instinctively rose to pry his fingers away, but I didn’t struggle. Not yet. My cloud veil shifted slightly but didn’t fall. Eli’s breath was hot against my cheek. "You good-for-nothing bitch!" I froze, my nails digging into his wrist. I wonde

AUTHOR'S POV. The cold night air bit into the servant’s skin as she walked briskly along the stone corridors, rubbing her arms for warmth. The banquet had ended hours ago, and most of the pack had retired for the night. She was exhausted and looked forward to resting in her quarters. But then, a shadow moved. Before she could react, two guards emerged from the darkness. One grabbed her left arm. The other seized her right. The servant gasped, her body stiffening in shock. "What? What’s happening? What did I do?" The guards said nothing. Fear clawed its way up her throat as they began dragging her down the hallway. She didn’t dare scream. She knew the rules. Making a scene would only make things worse. Still, panic surged through her. "Where are you taking me?" she whispered frantically. "Please! At least tell me." But no matter how many questions she asked, she was met with silence. The guards led her through the back exit of the estate, out into the open training ground

Serafina's POV "Do it. Flip the table. They deserve it." The words echoed through my mind like a lingering whisper, pulling me from the depths of sleep. I inhaled sharply, my body tensing as my eyes fluttered open. My gaze darted across the dimly lit room, my chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. It took me a moment to realize I had been dreaming. A slow exhale slipped past my lips. I pressed my palms against the soft sheets, grounding myself as the hazy remnants of the dream clung to the edges of my mind. But as I sat there, the voice’s words replayed again, dragging me back to the banquet hall, the laughter, the insults, the burning shame of the spilled wine. My fingers curled into the sheets. Had I really been about to flip the table? Would I have actually done it if Daxton hadn’t stopped me? I hesitated before whispering internally, Was that my wolf? The thought sent a ripple of something- hope, fear, uncertainty- through my chest. Tentatively, I t

Serafina’s POV. The moment the doctor left, Madam Rachel turned her sharp gaze on me. "It’s time for breakfast," she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument. I rose from my seat and followed the servants to the small dining area in my room. As I settled into the chair one of them pulled out for me, another carefully draped a napkin over my lap. Their movements were precise, practiced, as if they had done this a thousand times before. The table had already been set, the empty dinner plates from last night replaced with a fresh spread. Various dishes sat before me: golden pancakes, crisp toast, fresh fruit, and a steaming pot of tea. I shut my eyes for a moment, muttering a silent prayer before reaching for a slice of toasted bread. Just as one of the servants stepped forward to serve me, I lifted a hand to stop her. "I can serve myself," I said. The servant hesitated but obeyed, taking several steps back. As I spread a light layer of strawberry jam onto my toa