
Beta Rejects His Royal Mate
Chapter 2
The grand marble halls of the Lycan Royal Court felt cold against my skin as I walked toward my father's study. Each step echoed with the weight of my decision. Ten years of secrets. Ten years of love and betrayal. And now, the time for truth had come.
I found King Aldric Lykaios bent over ancient maps, his silver-streaked hair catching the light from the crystal chandeliers. He looked up as I entered, his eyes—so like mine—widening slightly at my expression.
"Rosemary," he said, setting down his quill. "What brings you here with such urgency?"
I knelt before him, the gesture both respectful and necessary. "Father, I need your help."
As I spoke, the words poured out of me like blood from a wound—the decade of secret support I'd given Cristian, the brutal rejection at his Beta ceremony, the public humiliation at the hands of Tiana. With each revelation, my father's expression darkened.
"You gave him resources from your own coffers? Training from our royal guards?" His voice remained controlled, but I could feel the anger building beneath.
"Yes," I admitted. "And now he's painted me as a desperate, wolfless commoner who tried to trap him."
My father's fist came down on the desk with enough force to crack the wood. "And you let him believe you were someone else all this time?"
"I wanted him to love me for who I am, not what I could give him." The admission cost me, each word scraping against the raw edges of my heart.
My father rose, his royal aura expanding to fill the room. "Then let him face the consequences of rejecting a Lycan Princess."
Within hours, I had access to everything—official records of every resource I'd diverted to Cristian's advancement, testimonies from packs who'd received my requests for favors, financial transactions spanning a decade. My father even granted me the authority to call for a formal trial before the Lycan Council.
"This is your right as a princess," he said, placing the royal seal on the documents. "But remember, once you begin this path, there is no turning back."
"I don't want to turn back," I replied, my voice steadier than it had been in weeks. "I want justice."
---
Finding Elena Blackwood proved more challenging than I expected. She'd moved to the outskirts of the Obsidian Claw territory after Cristian's rise to Beta, living in a small cottage surrounded by herb gardens.
"I have nothing to say to you," she said when I approached her door, her weathered face closing off immediately.
"Mrs. Blackwood," I kept my voice gentle but firm, "I'm not here as your son's rejected mate. I'm here as someone who once helped you."
Her eyes flickered with recognition, then guilt. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"The winter of 2015," I said quietly. "When Cristian was starving and you couldn't afford medicine for his fever. Remember the mysterious package that saved his life?"
She paled slightly, her fingers tightening around the doorframe.
"Or the recommendation that got him into the training program with Master Thorne? The one that launched his career?"
"Stop," she whispered, but I could see the conflict in her eyes.
"I'm not asking you to betray your son," I continued. "I'm asking you to remember your own honor. The truth you witnessed."
I left her there, torn between maternal loyalty and the weight of her conscience. As I walked away, I heard her call after me, her voice breaking: "Why did you help us?"
"Because everyone deserves a chance to rise," I answered without looking back.
---
The annual Grand Assembly of Alphas was held in the ancient amphitheater carved into the mountainside. Hundreds of pack leaders gathered to discuss territory disputes, rogue problems, and political alliances.
I watched from the preparation chambers as Cristian entered with Tiana on his arm, both of them glowing with newfound status. He wore his Beta insignia proudly, while she preened under the attention of other pack leaders' daughters.
"They make a striking pair," observed one of the council members beside me.
"Indeed," I replied, adjusting the crown on my head—the first time I'd worn it publicly in years.
The announcement came just as the assembly was settling: "Princess Rosemary Lykaios of the Lycan Royal Guard requests entrance."
A hush fell over the crowd as I stepped into the sunlight, my royal armor gleaming, the Lykaios crest emblazoned across my chest. My aura—no longer suppressed—rolled through the amphitheater like a physical force.
Every Alpha present rose to their feet in respect. Every Beta and Gamma bowed their heads. And there, in the middle of it all, stood Cristian.
His face drained of color as our eyes met across the distance. Beside him, Tiana's confident smile cracked into something resembling panic.
By morning, the news had spread through every pack network like wildfire: "Nellie" was actually Princess Rosemary Lykaios, and she had come to claim her justice.
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