
Lycan Prince Saves Rejected Mate
Chapter 3
The training facility's walls seemed to close in around me as Jackson stepped closer, his scarred face twisted in a cruel smile. Rain lashed against the windows, each thunder crack amplifying my racing heartbeat.
"Well, well," he drawled, circling me like a predator. "Look how far the mighty Luna has fallen."
I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, my fingers digging into the rough surface. The memories of our last encounter flooded back—his claws tearing into my flesh, the humiliation, the pain. But something inside me had changed.
"No," I whispered, then louder, "No!"
Jackson paused, clearly surprised by my defiance.
"You think I'm still that frightened girl?" I straightened my spine, lifting my chin. "I survived you once. I won't be broken again."
Thunder crashed outside as I stepped forward, my voice growing stronger with each word.
"I am Vivian Chapman. I've given my blood for this pack. I've borne the Alpha's child. And I will not cower before you—or anyone—again."
Jackson's confident smirk faltered. He glanced toward Matias, who stood watching from the doorway, his expression unreadable.
"She's just putting on a show," Amelie's voice cut through the tension as she appeared beside Matias. "Damaged goods can never truly heal."
She stroked Matias's arm possessively. "Remember what I told you, darling. A wolf with a broken spirit stays broken."
But something flickered in Matias's eyes—a momentary flash of the man who had once looked at me with love instead of contempt. For a heartbeat, I glimpsed the Alpha who had once been proud to call me his mate.
Then Amelie's nails dug into his arm, and his expression hardened again.
"Teach her what happens to wolves who forget their place," he ordered Jackson.
But before Jackson could move, Amelie's phone chimed. She checked it with a triumphant smile.
"The pack is gathering," she announced. "Everyone should see this lesson."
---
The main hall buzzed with whispers as pack members filled every available space. Amelie had arranged chairs in a semicircle around a raised platform where a large screen displayed images that made my stomach lurch—photos of me after Jackson's attack years ago, medical reports detailing my injuries, all my shame laid bare for the entire pack to see.
"Stand here," Amelie commanded, positioning me directly in front of the screen. "Your pack needs to understand why you were rejected."
I stood frozen as she circled me, her voice carrying to every corner of the hall.
"These are the wounds of weakness," she announced. "This is what happens when an Omega tries to rise above her station."
Pack members gasped and whispered, their eyes darting between the images and me. Some looked away in secondhand shame. Others stared with morbid fascination.
"And now," Amelie continued, "let's address these."
She gestured to a table where my few remaining possessions lay—the silver bracelet Matias had given me when Emma was born, the pressed flowers from our first date, the locket with Emma's baby picture.
"Worthless Omega possessions," she sneered, gathering them into her arms.
With deliberate cruelty, she dropped them one by one into a metal trash bin. Then she struck a match and touched it to the corner of a photograph—Emma's first birthday.
"No!" I lunged forward, but strong hands held me back.
"Let her watch," Amelie instructed as the flames caught and spread.
Tears streamed down my face as my memories curled and blackened in the fire. But as Amelie turned away to address the pack again, I slipped my hand into my pocket and activated the recording function on my phone.
"Tell me again," came a voice from the side—one of Amelie's loyal followers approaching her. "How did you manage it all? Getting the Alpha to reject his true mate?"
Amelie's laugh was cold as she glanced at me over her shoulder. "It was easier than you'd think," she said, loud enough for my recording to catch every word. "A few well-placed rumors about her past. Some carefully orchestrated 'evidence' of her weakness."
"And the rogue attack?" the follower prompted.
"Even easier," Amelie replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Jackson was more than happy to cooperate when I offered him protection within our territory. All I had to do was make sure he found her alone that night."
My blood ran cold as the truth spilled from her lips—the admission that she had orchestrated my assault, that she had planned every step of my downfall.
"Matias never questioned it," she continued. "Men are so easy to manipulate when their pride is wounded. I just had to convince him that her 'weakness' reflected poorly on him as Alpha."
The recording captured every damning word as Amelie bragged about destroying my life. And as she turned back to address the pack, she had no idea that in my pocket, the evidence of her treachery was being preserved—evidence that would soon change everything.
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