Rejected Mate's Vengeance

As we prepared for the mark ceremony, Della and I exchanged information about our respective packs—the Simmons and the Boyd. Since my rebirth, we had spent countless nights talking, piecing together the fragments of our past lives.

When Della recounted her previous life, her body trembled with fear, her voice barely a whisper. I used to think her fragility was an act, something she put on to gain our parents’ sympathy. But now, I saw her for who she truly was—my beloved sister, my ally.

When I shared my own story, I kept it brief, almost dismissive. "My mate never shared my bed. I was clueless about romance, and he surrounded himself with mistresses. When I heard about your death, I… I just couldn’t go on."

Della fell silent, and I thought she was reliving her pain. But then she spoke, her voice sharp with suspicion. "You’ve always been strong, Amara. How could you just... collapse like that?"

Her words hit me like a bolt of lightning. She pressed me for details, and when I finished, her tone was firm. "The potion he gave you—it must have been poisoned."

The realization struck me with the force of a thunderclap. My mate, who had never shown me affection, had been so attentive with his potions. He wasn’t caring for me; he was killing me. If not for Della’s insight, I would have carried that ignorance to my grave.

By the time my mark ceremony day arrived, I had memorized every detail about the Knight Pack: the volatile Alpha Mathias, the submissive Luna Novalee, the abusive Beta Felix, and the scheming Omegas like Alisson. It was a den of vipers, and my sweet, cunning sister had been thrown into it like a lamb to the slaughter.

But I was no lamb. I had grown up by my father’s side, first as a rogue and then as a warrior. I thrived on confrontation, on the raw power of claws and fangs. Della might have been too soft to fight back, but I wasn’t. I would make them pay for what they’d done to her.

Yet, even I wasn’t prepared for the audacity of the Knight Pack on my mark ceremony day. As I stepped out of the car, Felix, my mate, didn’t come forward to guide me. Instead, Alisson, his caretaker, deliberately removed the stool meant to help me down.

Blinded by the veil, I stumbled, nearly falling. The crowd gasped, and my wolf growled in my mind, furious. I yanked the veil off, my eyes blazing.

The attendees fell silent, then erupted into murmurs. My assistant whispered urgently, "Alpha Amara, it’s bad luck to remove the veil before the ceremony!"

Alisson sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "Who do you think you are, acting so high and mighty? You’re nothing but a lowborn Alpha from a small pack!"

Before she could finish, I slapped her—hard. The sound echoed through the courtyard, and the crowd froze. Felix rushed to her side, his eyes glaring at me with venom.

"You dare strike her before we’re even marked?" he snarled.

I cut him off, my voice cold and commanding. "An Alpha disciplines her subordinates as she sees fit."

I replaced the veil and strode through the main entrance, my head held high. Felix hissed to Alisson, "Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll make her pay for this tonight."

The ceremony proceeded without incident, the Knight Pack’s facade of civility intact. But as I sat on the crimson bed in the bridal suite, the door creaked open. I tensed, ready for whatever new challenge awaited me.