From Bait to Queen: The Rejected Mate's Destiny
To the Dark Moon Pack, I wasn't just invisible; I was a stain. Dean Lee, the Alpha designed for my soul, treated me like a shameful secret while he paraded his mistress, Karina, in red silk.
The night of the Charity Auction, Dean bought my late mother's moonstone pendant—the only thing I had left of her—for a hundred thousand dollars.
I begged him for it. Instead, he clasped it around Karina's ankle.
With a cruel laugh, Karina stomped her stiletto heel, crushing the moonstone into dust. Dean just watched, his eyes cold and unfeeling.
"It was just a cheap rock," he said. "I'll buy you diamonds."
But the cruelty didn't stop at emotional torture. When rogues attacked, Dean used me as live bait to distract them from Karina.
He threw me into the Blood Pit, a gladiator arena, to fight a massive Feral wolf while he sat in the VIP box with Karina on his lap.
"She won't last three minutes," I heard him say through our dying bond.
He watched with bored detachment as I was ripped apart, refusing to save me even as I screamed his name. He saved the mistress and drowned the mate.
I died on that arena floor. Or so he thought.
Years later, the mysterious and world-renowned artist "H.Y." returned to New York for a gallery opening.
When Dean saw me on stage, he rushed forward, tears streaming down his face, trying to claim the wife he had mourned.
"Hayley," he choked out, reaching for me. "You're alive. You're mine."
I didn't cry. I didn't run.
I unleashed a shockwave of ancient White Wolf energy that blasted him across the room, shattering the glass displays.
"I don't take orders from dogs anymore," I said, looking down at him.
"I, Hayley York, hereby reject you."
Hayley POV:
The Blood Pit smelled of old iron and fear.
"You're up, little meat," a scarred man grunted.
I was shoved into the arena. The crowd roared. High in the VIP box, Dean sat on a velvet throne, Karina on his lap.
The loudspeaker crackled. "Tonight's main event! The Alpha's reject versus... The Beast!"
A gate opened. A Feral-a wolf lost to madness-emerged, standing seven feet tall, foam dripping from its jaws.
I looked up at the glass box. Dean was leaning forward.
Three minutes, I heard through the dying bond. She won't last three minutes.
He looked... bored. Detached. Like he was watching a weather report, not his mate's execution.
The Feral charged.
I couldn't run. I stood my ground, letting my inner wolf take over. I opened my mouth and let out a high, piercing howl that shattered the air.
The Feral hesitated, confused by the power, but bloodlust won. Its paw swiped me.
I flew across the arena, ribs snapping. I hit the cage wall. Pain blinded me. The Feral was on me again, biting into my shoulder.
I looked up at the box. Dean was gripping the rail, his knuckles white. For a second, the fog in his eyes seemed to clear. He looked horrified. But Karina placed a hand on his neck, and the mask slammed back down.
The Feral raised a claw.
Suddenly, the arena lights died. Gunshots rang out. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Strong arms scooped me up. "I've got you," Brennen whispered. "Stay with me, White Wolf."
I coughed blood. "The phone... photos..."
"I have it."
"Tell Dean..." I wheezed, my vision fading. "Tell him I died."
