From Rejected Omega To The Supreme Luna

Four years ago, I walked into liquid silver fire to drag the Alpha heir out of a burning wreck. The silver melted the skin off my back, leaving me a topographic nightmare of scars, while my inner wolf went dormant to survive the pain. I thought my sacrifice meant something. But when Julian finally woke from his coma, he didn't look at me with love. He looked at my burns with pure disgust. "Who let this broken Omega in here?" he sneered. He pulled Estelle—the woman who had fled the scene without a scratch—into his arms. "This," he declared, burying his face in her flawless neck, "is the scent of my savior. Not you. You smell like a chemical spill." He treated me like a leper in my own pack. He let his sister slash my dress to expose my "ugly" back to dinner guests. On the day he was forced to marry me for PR, he drove us to the altar with Estelle in the backseat. When she faked a panic attack, claiming the wolfsbane I warned her about was "anxiety," Julian slammed on the brakes in the middle of a storm. "Get out," he commanded, unlocking my door. "Julian, we're ten minutes from the wedding." "Estelle is dying! You selfish monster, get out!" He kicked me out of the Rolls Royce, leaving me standing in the mud in my white silk gown. As his taillights faded, I didn't cry. I closed my eyes and grabbed the frayed bond in my mind. "I, Ember Tucker, reject you, Julian Copeland." Snap. He thought he was discarding a broken toy. He didn't realize he had just rejected the legendary White Wolf—and his only chance at survival. Chapter 1 Ember POV: The mirror in the locker room was cracked, a jagged line splitting my reflection in two. Appropriate. I turned my back to it, peeling off the scrub top. My fingers felt like ice. There it was. The map of my ruin. My back wasn't skin anymore. It was a topographic nightmare of violet ridges and angry red valleys, like wax melted with a blowtorch and left to harden in a scream. Silver Fire. In the corporate-wolf world, where suits hide fur, Silver is the devil. It's our kryptonite. It doesn't just burn; it halts our accelerated healing and cauterizes the wolf right out of the soul. Four years ago, I didn't hesitate. The memory hit me like a physical blow-burning rubber, the metallic tang of blood. The illegal street race. The ambush by Rogues. Julian's car spinning out, crumpling like a soda can against that tanker. The liquid silver had spilled like demonic water. I had dragged him out. I, a lowly Omega, had walked into the silver fire to save the heir of the Copeland Pack. I felt my skin sizzle and pop. I felt my inner wolf shriek once before burying herself deep in the recesses of my mind to survive. I saved him. But I lost myself. "Ember? Are you still in there?" The voice made me jump. I quickly pulled on a fresh, high-collared shirt. Thick cotton. Enough to hide the scars. Enough to mask the medicinal stink of the ointment I slathered on every four hours. "Coming," I whispered. Today was the day. Julian Copeland, the Alpha, had finally woken up from his Wolf Coma three days ago. Today was his Coronation. The day he would officially take over the Pack and name his Luna. I walked out of the locker room. The hospital hallways were buzzing. "Did you hear?" a nurse whispered as I passed. "Alpha Julian looks better than ever." "And Estelle," another giggled. "She hasn't left his side. They look perfect together." My heart stuttered. Estelle Murphy. My childhood friend. The woman who had been driving the Ferrari behind Julian that night. The woman who had slammed on the gas and sped away the second the Rogues showed their teeth. I swallowed the bile. It didn't matter. Julian was my Fated Mate. Even though we hadn't completed the Marking ceremony before the accident, the bond was there. The Moon Goddess doesn't roll dice. When he saw me, when he smelled me... he would know. He would remember who pulled him from the fire. I drove my beat-up sedan to the Pack House. The mansion was lit up like a palace. The driveway looked like a luxury car dealership-Mercedes, Bentleys, Porsches. I parked far away, near the servant's entrance. The Pack Link in my mind was usually a low hum. Today, it was a stadium roar. He is coming! The Alpha is coming! I slipped into the back of the Grand Hall. It was packed. The air was thick with expensive cologne, champagne, and adrenaline. On the stage stood Julian. My breath caught. He was magnificent. Dark hair styled back, shoulders broad in a tuxedo that cost more than my car. He radiated power. The Alpha Aura rolled off him in waves. My wolf, dormant for so long, scratched feebly at the back of my mind. Mate, she whimpered. Mate is safe. Julian took the microphone. His voice was deep, vibrating through the floorboards. "My Pack," he began. "Four years ago, darkness tried to claim me. I was broken. I was lost." The crowd went silent. "But," Julian continued, scanning the front row, "a light brought me back. A presence that sat by my bedside, a scent that anchored me." I took a step forward, my pulse hammering in my throat. I had sat by his bed every night. I had sung to him. Julian smiled. It was a smile that could stop a heart. "I am alive today because of the love of one woman. A woman who risked everything." He reached out a hand. "Come to me, my Luna. Come to me, Estelle." The floor dropped out from under me. The applause was deafening. I watched, frozen, as Estelle Murphy rose from the front row. She was a vision in shimmering gold. Flawless. No scars. No smell of burnt flesh. She glided up the stairs. Julian pulled her into his arms, burying his nose in her neck. "Her scent," Julian growled into the microphone, eyes glowing amber. "It is the scent of home." No. That wasn't possible. I pushed through the crowd. I ignored the elbows, the glares, the muttered insults. I reached the edge of the stage. "Julian!" I screamed. The music cut. The crowd gasped. Julian looked down. His amber eyes met mine. I waited for the spark. The recognition. Instead, his nose wrinkled. He looked at me with cold, unfeeling eyes. Then, he looked at my high collar, wrinkling his nose at the faint, chemical reek of my burn cream. "Who let this... Omega in here?" Julian asked, voice dripping with disdain. "Julian, it's me," I choked out. "Ember. I... I saved you. The silver fire..." Estelle tightened her grip on his arm. She looked down at me, a flicker of triumph in her eyes. "Oh, Julian," Estelle purred into the mic. "This is poor Ember. She was... confused. The trauma of the accident. She thinks she helped." Julian looked back at me. There was no love. Only disgust. "Security," Julian commanded. The Alpha Command hit me like a physical weight, locking my muscles. "Remove her. She smells like a chemical spill. It's offending my Luna." Two burly warriors grabbed my arms. "Wait!" I cried, struggling. "I am your Mate! The Moon Goddess chose me!" Laughter. Cruel, barking laughter rippled through the hall. Julian laughed too. A cold sound. "You?" He sneered. "Look at my Estelle. She is perfection. You are... broken. Do you really think the Moon Goddess would pair an Alpha of my bloodline with a scarred, delusional Omega?" He turned his back on me. He kissed Estelle, deep and passionate. The warriors dragged me out the back door and threw me onto the gravel. I lay there, the sharp stones digging into my skin. The physical pain was nothing compared to the hole in my chest. My wolf let out a long, mournful howl in my head, then went silent. My phone buzzed. From: Doctors Without Borders - Werewolf Division Subject: Application Status Dear Ms. Tucker, We are pleased to inform you that your application for the field medic position in the Neutral Zone has been accepted... I looked at the brightly lit mansion, hearing the cheers for the new Luna. I wiped the tears away. They stung the scrapes on my face. "Goodbye, Julian," I whispered into the dirt.