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From Rejected Omega To The Supreme Luna Novel Cover

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.
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Chapter 2

Ember POV:

The Pack House was quiet. Most wolves had passed out from the champagne or slinked off to their dens.

I stood in the center of my closet-sized room in the servants' quarters.

My phone pinged. 'WolfGram'.

Estelle had posted a photo. A pile of Julian's custom shirts scattered on the floor. Caption: Soaking in his scent. The Alpha's love is the only perfume I need. LunaLife Blessed.

I stared at the screen until my vision blurred. Those were the shirts I had washed and ironed for four years while he slept.

A wave of nausea hit me.

I grabbed a trash bag. I tore through the room. The dried flower from when we were ten? Trash. The hoodie I kept wrapped in plastic to preserve his scent? Trash.

I was scrubbing him out.

In our culture, scent is identity. To remove someone's scent is to declare them dead.

I hauled the bag to the dumpster. As I tossed it, a sleek black car pulled up.

Julian.

My heart did that stupid, traitorous flutter. He was disheveled, tie undone. Estelle was in the passenger seat, looking smug.

Julian stepped out. He sniffed the air and frowned.

"What are you doing, Ember?" He sounded bored. "Why do you smell like bleach?"

"Cleaning," I said flatly.

He flicked a black credit card at me. It hit my chest and fell into the dirt.

"Go buy something decent. Mandatory Pack Dinner tonight to solidify the hierarchy. I don't want you looking like a beggar. It reflects poorly on the Pack."

I looked at the card. "I'm not going."

Julian's eyes narrowed. The air shimmered with heat. The Alpha Command pressed down, forcing my knees to buckle.

"That wasn't a request, Omega," he growled. "You will attend. And you will show respect to your new Luna."

He got back in the car. Estelle blew me a kiss as they drove off.

The dinner was torture.

I wore a high-necked black thrift store dress. I sat at the far end of the table, near the kitchen doors.

The air smelled of roasted meat and hypocrisy.

"Did you smell her?" a Gamma whispered. "Smells like a hospital incinerator."

"Burnt toast," another snickered.

I gripped my fork until my knuckles turned white.

Splash.

Cold red wine soaked my shoulder. I jumped up.

Jeanette, Julian's younger sister, stood there with an empty glass and a cruel smirk.

"Oops," she said, voice dripping with fake sweetness. "My hand slipped. But honestly, Ember, that dress was ugly anyway. Let's see what's underneath."

Before I could blink, she shifted partially. Razor-sharp claws slashed down my back.

Riiip.

The fabric parted. The air hit my back.

Gasps echoed around the room. Then, dead silence.

I knew what they saw. The purple ridges. The melted skin.

"Oh my Goddess," someone gagged. "It's hideous."

"Monster."

Jeanette laughed. "See? I told you she was cursed. No wonder Julian rejected her. Who could bed that?"

Something snapped.

Crack!

I slapped Jeanette across the face. It was a solid connection that echoed off the high ceilings.

Jeanette stumbled back, holding her cheek, eyes wide. An Omega striking a high-ranking member?

"You bitch!" Jeanette shrieked.

"Julian!" Estelle screamed from the head of the table. She clutched her chest. "Oh god, the violence! My heart! Julian, I'm scared!"

Academy Award performance.

Boom.

A chair went flying. Julian was there in a blur.

He didn't look at his sister. He didn't look at my exposed back. He looked at Estelle, who was sobbing dry tears.

Then he turned to me. His eyes were pitch black.

"You dare?" he roared. "You dare attack my family? You dare upset my Luna?"

"She ripped my clothes!" I shouted, clutching the front of my torn dress. "She humiliated me!"

"You are a humiliation!" Julian bellowed. "Look at you! You are ugly inside and out. Jealous. Spiteful. Weak."

He scooped Estelle up.

"Get out of my sight," he spat. "If I see you near Estelle again, I will forget that we grew up together. I will treat you like a Rogue."

He carried her out. The Pack followed, parting around me like I was a leper.

I stood there in the ruins of my dress, wine mixing with the phantom pain of my scars.

I wasn't just an Omega anymore. I was a ghost in my own home.

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