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Rejected at My Own Birthday Celebration Novel Cover

Rejected at My Own Birthday Celebration

During my birthday gathering, Erik Hawkins, the Lycan Prince and my mate, wrapped his arm around Gracie Shaw, his childhood crush and unattainable dream. He gently patted her belly and turned to me, his voice dripping with false concern. “She’s pregnant. What should we do, darling?” The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. No one at the table dared to stand up for me, nor did they worry I might make a scene. I stood calmly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “Congratulations.” Congratulations to him for achieving what he’d always wanted, and congratulations to me for finally letting go. Loving him had long since become a draining effort. --- An hour had passed since the party was supposed to begin. The dishes were cold, and even the server, a young Delta from our pack, had asked multiple times if it was time to bring out the cake.
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Chapter 2

Erik’s gaze swept over the table laden with food, his brow furrowing in disapproval. With a sharp snap of his fingers, he summoned the waiter. “Bring something lighter and a pot of stew,” he ordered, his tone commanding. Then, casting a glance at Gracie, he added, “She’s been dealing with morning sickness. I’m particular about what she eats.”

His smile, warm and indulgent, felt like a branding iron against my heart. Gracie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, scrunching her nose at the spiced honey cake Erik offered her. Beside me, Layla, the Luna of our pack, sat in silence for a long moment before rising. “Erik,” she said, her voice calm but firm, “let’s speak outside.”

His smile faded instantly, and he dropped his fork with a clatter. “Say it here,” he replied, his eyes darting around the table before settling on me.

I pinched my thigh under the table, trying to steady myself. My wolf stirred faintly in the back of my mind, a quiet presence I rarely acknowledged these days. “Mom,” Erik said, his voice laced with mock concern, “you don’t think Elena would cause trouble for me, do you? That’s not likely, right?”

My parents, Alpha Ambrose and Luna Sariyah, remained silent, their eyes filled with sorrow as they watched me. I knew Erik had been waiting for this moment—for me to set him free. Over the years of our strained mate bond, he’d made his disdain for me abundantly clear.

I lowered my head quickly, afraid he might see the tears threatening to fall. “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “I can sign the papers anytime.”

Layla had insisted on this birthday celebration, perhaps hoping to mend what was broken between us. Instead, it only deepened the wound.

She sighed, her hand gently patting my back. “Elena,” she murmured, her voice soft with concern, “please don’t act impulsively.”

Her touch did little to ease the pain or the humiliation. And Erik, ever impatient, slid the rejection papers toward me. He placed a pen in my hand, his movements hesitant, almost as if he was second-guessing himself.

The back of my hand was red and swollen, a faint trace of blood where I’d bitten down to keep from crying. He frowned slightly, avoiding my eyes. “Sign it,” he whispered, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Release me, and free yourself too.”

---

Later, Gracie reached out to me, making sure I knew she was back. We hadn’t spoken in years, so when her friend request appeared on my phone, I hesitated before accepting.

A flicker of something—amusement?—crossed my mind, all tied to Erik. I knew Layla had always subtly blamed me for the Hawkins family’s lack of heirs. What she didn’t know was that Erik and I had never fully consummated our bond.

Loving him felt like a betrayal of my own self-respect. I couldn’t bring myself to give him that. So, he’d brought Gracie to humiliate me, even bringing the rejection papers to my birthday celebration.

Those papers were a formality, downloaded from the pack’s official records. How could I sign them? I thought he’d expect me to confront him, to demand why he was treating me this way.

But when the moment came, I surprised even myself. I signed the papers with steady hands, offering him my congratulations before walking away.

Congratulating him? I left without a backward glance, retreating to heal in solitude. If he didn’t care, why did I feel like the one left broken?

I expected him to call, to reach out in the quiet hours of the night. Instead, it was I who felt unsteady, my wolf stirring restlessly in the back of my mind.

On the day the rejection was finalized, I returned to the now-empty house, struck by the sudden return of a long-forgotten loneliness. Panic welled up inside me, unbidden.

I found myself asking about the security code, as if returning home would somehow fix what was broken.

A voice in my mind, clear and unmistakable, whispered: *Elena, I think I might care. But wasn’t I supposed to hate you?*

The thought lingered, persistent and unrelenting. Later, when he chased after me to confess, I acted as though I couldn’t hear him.

With icy resolve, I told him I didn’t love him anymore. I owed him nothing, and I wouldn’t repay any imagined debt.

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