Banished by My Mate, Returned for Vengeance

Early morning.

I sat brooding in front of my computer, the soft hum of the machine filling the silence of my room. The faint scent of pine and rain drifted through the open window, a reminder of the forest that surrounded the pack territory. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but my mind was elsewhere.

Midway through, hunger got the better of me, and I went downstairs to grab a bite.

My mom was in the living room, her eyes fixed on the TV. The pack’s broadcasting channel was on, a luxury only high-ranking members like the Alphas and Betas could afford. Her posture was tense, her shoulders slightly hunched—a reflection of her Omega status and the constant awareness of her place in the pack hierarchy.

Suddenly, a breaking news segment appeared on the screen:

**Breaking News: The Silver Moon Pack announces the mate-pairing ceremony of Alpha Ryker Armstrong and Beta Sydney Wells, set for mid-next month.**

I froze, my hand tightening around the banister. The words echoed in my head like a cruel joke.

A mate-pairing on a private island?

It seemed like a lifetime ago when I had clung to Ryker Armstrong so much, back when I believed we were destined to be mates. I remembered begging him, my voice filled with naïve hope:

“Isn’t an island so romantic? Can we have our pairing there?”

He always looked so detached, his piercing Alpha gaze cutting through me like a blade. “Emely, can you stop this?” he’d say, his tone sharp with irritation. “I’m working.”

Seeing him upset, I’d immediately sat quietly beside him, my voice barely a whisper. “Okay, I won’t say anything. You go ahead and work.”

The memory faded, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

I snapped back to the present, my chest tightening as the news anchor continued to gush about the “perfect union” of the Alpha and his Beta. My mom noticed me standing there and seemed startled, her Omega instincts kicking in as she quickly rose from the couch.

“Emely, why are you downstairs?” she asked, her voice laced with nervousness. “Are you going out? Where to? I can come with you.”

She had already asked someone—likely one of the lower-ranking Omegas—to retrieve her purse and was searching for the remote to turn off the TV. Watching her anxious and awkward actions, I understood.

She was just scared that I’d become clingy again, that I’d start trailing after the Alpha like a desperate pup, embarrassing our family even more. But, Mom, I won’t anymore.

Never again.

“I’m not going out,” I said, my voice calm despite the storm raging inside me. “Just came to grab some food.”

“What?”

I had already picked up a bottle of juice and turned to head back upstairs. At the stairs, my mom still looked surprised, her Omega instincts conflicting with her maternal concern.

“Emely, you…” she started, her voice trailing off.

I sniffled, my grip tightening around the juice bottle. “Mom, you go ahead and watch TV. I’m going back upstairs to work.”

Her eyes lingered on me, filled with a mix of relief and guilt, but I didn’t wait for her response. I climbed the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. The image of Ryker and Sydney’s mate-pairing ceremony burned in my mind, a stark reminder of everything I had lost—and everything I never truly had.

But I wouldn’t let it break me. Not again.