Rejected By My Mate, Claimed By His Uncle

Arlene POV

The heavy oak doors of the ceremonial hall could not keep out the sound. The ancient pack drums echoed through the thick wood, the mating rhythm vibrating against the stone floor beneath my feet.

I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the bridal antechamber, staring at the woman reflected in the glass. The ceremonial white gown, embroidered with silver thread and moonstones, swallowed me in layers of pristine silk.

My eyes, usually soft and compliant, shifted. The fog of confusion evaporated, replaced by a clarity so cold it made my chest ache.

I dug my manicured nails into the centre of my palm. The sharp, biting pain pierced my skin. My breath hitched. I wasn't dead. The freezing blizzard that had stopped my heart in my past life was gone.

I have truly returned. I am back in the present—back to the beginning of every tragedy, back to the day Adrien abandoned me at the altar for his mistress, Seraphina, and back to the moment when redemption was still within reach.

The antechamber door burst open, slamming against the wall with a violent crack. Adrien Branch, my fiancé, rushed in. His phone was gripped tightly in his hand, his face pale and frantic. He didn't even look at me.

“I have to go,” he blurted out, his voice tight. “Seraphina was on patrol. A rogue wolf attacked. She broke her leg. They just rushed her to the pack healer.”

In my past life, I had begged him not to go to his mistress Seraphina's side. I had cried until my throat bled, clinging to his ceremonial robes. Now, I just looked at him. My face was a mask of ice. I watched him panic like a pathetic pup performing a cheap trick.

Adrien paused. My silence felt wrong. He frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his eyes, but his panic quickly buried it.

“You need to go out there,” he ordered, pointing toward the door. “Handle the elders from the surrounding packs. Keep my grandfather Theodore calm. Make up an excuse. I'll make it up to you later.”

He threw the empty promise over his shoulder, already turning away. He sprinted towards the hall's rear exit without a single ounce of hesitation.

Gasps erupted from the hallway. The groomsmen shouted his name. Adrien's escape was already causing a scene. I walked slowly to the window and looked down at the courtyard below. His silver motorcycle tore out of the pack grounds, leaving a trail of exhaust. A cold, mocking smirk pulled at the corner of my lips.

The sharp click of heels echoed from the open doorway. My adopted sister, Kendall Wooten, walked in. She wore an ivory bridesmaid dress, but the custom tailoring and the excessive spray of diamond accents along the bodice made it far more luxurious than a standard attendant's gown – subtly designed to outshine me without crossing the line into obvious sabotage. Her face was twisted into a mask of deep concern, but the malicious gleam in her eyes gave her away.

“Oh, Arlene,” she sighed loudly, making sure the bridesmaids in the hall could hear. “Adrien is just too loyal to his friends. You can't blame him for leaving.”

I turned around, dragging my heavy skirt across the carpet. My eyes locked onto her, sharp as broken glass. She took a step back – a sudden, unexplainable chill crawling up her spine. She forced a smile and reached out, trying to grab my arm. “Come on. Let's go out there and bow to the guests. You need to apologise.”

I didn't hesitate. I swung my hand and slapped her wrist away. The smack was loud and crisp. Kendall gasped, cradling her hand against her chest. The skin on the back of her hand turned bright red. Tears instantly pooled in her eyes.

At the moment，My foster mother, Eleanor Wooten, pushed through the crowd at the door.

She saw Kendall crying and rushed forward.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she screamed, pulling Kendall behind her. She pointed a shaking finger at my face. “The Wooten family's standing in the pack cannot crash just because you are too pathetic to keep a man in your bed! Fix your makeup. Go out to the main hall. Announce that the mating ceremony is postponed. Tell them it's your fault.”

The suffocating weight of my past life pressed down on my chest. But the reborn me only felt a deep, hollow sense of absurdity. “The ceremony is not being postponed,” I said, my voice flat, cutting through her rant.

Eleanor and Kendall froze. They stared at me, convinced the humiliation had finally snapped my mind. I didn't explain. I grabbed handfuls of my heavy silk skirt, lifted it, and walked straight past the two women.

“Where are you going?” Kendall yelled from behind. “The entire elite of the werewolf world is out there waiting to laugh at you!”

I didn't look back. “I'm going to get a new groom.”