The Rejected Luna's Vow Of Spite

Elara Thorne POV:

I followed Kael down the long, cold marble corridor. The flickering torchlight cast dancing, monstrous shadows on the stone walls. I could feel his contempt rolling off him in waves. To him, I was just an obstacle, an unwanted complication in his Alpha’s life.

A cold emptiness resided where my connection to Ryker should have been. Since his rejection, the bond between us was a thread worn so thin it was nearly transparent. I couldn't feel his emotions, only a profound and chilling absence.

Kael pushed open the door to the medical wing, and the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic and healing herbs hit me.

And there he was.

Ryker Blackwood stood in the center of the room, his presence so immense it seemed to suck all the air out. He was dressed in black tactical pants and a simple grey t-shirt that did nothing to hide the powerful muscles of his chest and arms. A faint chill still clung to him, the last remnant of the Northern Forest he’d searched for Seraphina.

His eyes, the color of glacial ice, landed on me. He looked at me not as a person, but as an object. An inconvenience.

Across the room, Seraphina Vale was propped up on a bed, looking pale and delicate. A nasty, discolored wound marred the skin of her forearm—a silver wound. She met my gaze, a flash of triumph in her green eyes before it was quickly veiled by a mask of pained fragility.

Ryker didn't waste time with greetings. His voice was as harsh as the winter wind. “Seraphina needs a blood transfusion. The silver poisoning is preventing her from healing. A normal wolf’s blood won’t purify it.”

My stomach plummeted. I knew what was coming.

“But a mate’s blood will,” he continued, his tone flat and devoid of emotion. “Your blood, Elara. You may not be worthy of the title, but the power of the bond still exists in your veins.”

I stared at him, disbelief warring with a fresh wave of agony. He had cast me aside, sentenced me to a slow death, and now he wanted to use the very bond that was killing me to save another woman.

*He dares!* Lyra snarled in my mind, but her rage was a weak, sputtering thing.

“You rejected me,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

A cruel, humorless smile touched his lips. “Rejecting you doesn't mean I can’t make use of you. You owe me this. If it wasn’t for your family’s political scheming, Seraphina and I would have been blessed by the Goddess long ago.”

The pack doctor and a young Omega nurse, Clara Mills, stood off to the side, their heads bowed. I saw Clara dart a look at me, her eyes filled with a deep, helpless sympathy.

I remembered the first time I saw him. It was at a pack run, the full moon hanging in the sky like a silver medallion. His eyes had been bright then, and my wolf had screamed a single, joyful word in my mind: *Mine!*

His scent had been a heady mix of pine and winter storms. Now, all I could feel from him was the biting cold.

I didn’t fight. What was the point? It would only waste the precious little energy I had left. I walked silently to the collection chair and sat down, offering my arm.

My compliance seemed to surprise him for a second, but his expression quickly hardened back into one of disgust. He probably thought it was another one of my pathetic attempts to win his favor.

The Omega nurse, Clara, approached me, her hands trembling. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Luna,” she murmured.

The needle slid into my vein. I didn’t flinch. I just watched as my life force drained out of me, filling the plastic bag. The blood was a deep crimson, but within it, I could see faint, shimmering flecks of gold—the power of the Mating Bond. My power.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, and the chill in my body intensified.

Lyra’s whimpers grew fainter and fainter in my mind.

Ryker never once looked at me. His gaze was fixed on Seraphina, his icy expression melting into one of tender concern. It was as if I wasn't even in the room.

The bag was full. Clara shakily removed the needle.

The world tilted, and the edges of my vision went dark. My body felt impossibly heavy as it started to slide from the chair.

The last thing I heard before consciousness fled was Seraphina’s weak, yet utterly satisfied voice.

“Ryker, I feel better already…”