The Future Alpha Rejected His Fated Mate for Another

My knees ached from scrubbing the marble floors of the grand hall, but I didn't dare slow down. Luna Loretta had made it clear this morning—every inch had to gleam before tonight's Mate Ceremony began.

"Still on your hands and knees, Camille?" Shiloh Moore's sickeningly sweet voice drifted down from above me. I looked up to find her standing there in a stunning crimson gown that probably cost more than I'd ever seen in my life. "How fitting for a wolfless Omega."

I bit the inside of my cheek and returned to scrubbing. Ten years in this pack house had taught me that responding only made things worse.

"You know," Shiloh continued, examining her perfectly manicured nails, "I almost feel sorry for you. Eighteen years old and still no wolf. The Moon Goddess must have forgotten you exist." Her laugh echoed through the empty hall. "At least you'll get to watch from the servants' corner when Brendan announces his chosen mate tonight."

My chest tightened at his name. Brendan. My childhood sweetheart. The boy who used to sneak me extra desserts when Luna Loretta wasn't looking. The Future Alpha who hadn't spoken to me in months.

Shiloh's heels clicked away across the floor I'd just cleaned, leaving faint marks I'd have to redo. I sat back on my heels and reached for the small pendant hanging beneath my worn shirt—my mother's pendant, the only thing I had left of her. My fingers traced the familiar grooves as I hummed the lullaby she used to sing, the one that always calmed my racing heart.

Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe my wolf would finally awaken, and I could stand beside Brendan as his equal instead of cowering in the shadows.

Hours later, the grand hall had transformed into something magical. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows, candles flickered on every surface, and the air buzzed with excitement as pack members gathered in their finest clothes. I stood pressed against the back wall in my simple gray dress, trying to make myself invisible.

The crowd parted as Brendan entered, and my breath caught. He looked magnificent in his tailored black suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, his Alpha aura radiating confidence and power. Every unmated she-wolf in the room watched him with hungry eyes, but his gaze swept past them all.

My heart hammered as he moved through the hall with purposeful strides. This was it. The moment he would announce his chosen mate and—

Brendan stopped mid-step. His entire body went rigid, his nostrils flaring as if catching a scent. His head turned slowly, scanning the crowd with an expression I'd never seen before—a mixture of shock and something that looked almost like horror.

His eyes locked onto mine across the crowded room.

The world tilted. A warmth spread through my chest, foreign and overwhelming, like invisible threads pulling me toward him. The mate bond. The divine connection blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. It was real. It was happening. Brendan was my fated mate.

But instead of joy in his eyes, I saw disgust.

He strode toward me, and the crowd instinctively moved aside. Pack members whispered and pointed as the Future Alpha approached the wolfless Omega servant. My hands trembled as he stopped directly in front of me, so close I could smell his pine and leather scent.

"No," he whispered, his voice laced with revulsion. "Not you. Anyone but you."

The words hit like a physical blow. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Brendan turned abruptly and walked back to where Shiloh stood watching with barely concealed smugness. He took her hand, and she smiled triumphantly. When he faced the crowd again, his expression had hardened into something cruel and cold.

"I, Brendan Romero, Future Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack—" His voice boomed with Alpha authority, echoing off the walls. "—reject you, Camille Palmer, as my fated mate."

Pain exploded through my chest. It felt like my ribs were cracking, my heart being ripped from my body, my soul splitting down the middle. I gasped, doubling over as the mate bond severed with agonizing finality. Every nerve ending screamed. My vision blurred with unshed tears.

Through the haze of pain, I heard Brendan's mocking voice: "You should leave the pack house, Camille. Go find that filthy, unranked Omega border-worker, Colton Hunter. Maybe he'll take pity on you. You two would make a perfect match—worthless breeding with worthless."

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Shiloh's giggle cut through the noise like broken glass.

The pain was unbearable, but I refused to collapse in front of them. I refused to give them that satisfaction. Slowly, I straightened my spine. I met Brendan's eyes one last time and saw nothing there but contempt for the girl he'd once called his best friend.

I turned my back on him, on the pack house, on ten years of foolish hope. My legs shook with every step, but I walked through that crowd with my head high. The whispers followed me out into the cold night air.

Only when the pack house doors closed behind me did I finally let the tears fall.