He Rejected Me for a Weak Omega Luna

The scent hit me first—rain and cedar, intoxicating and undeniable. My wolf stirred within me, suddenly alert and yearning. *Mate.* The word echoed through my consciousness as I turned toward the source.

Parker Russell stood across the ballroom, his broad shoulders draped in a tailored black suit that emphasized his Alpha physique. Dark hair fell across his forehead in a way that made my fingers itch to touch it. When our eyes met, something electric passed between us.

"You feel it too," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

My wolf howled in triumph. *Finally, our mate.*

I smoothed down the silver silk of my gown and made my way toward him, heart pounding against my ribs. The annual Moonstone Pack Mating Ball was the most important night of my life, and it was unfolding exactly as I'd dreamed.

"Alpha Russell," I said, extending my hand as I approached. "I'm Sloan Henderson."

His eyes widened slightly—he'd felt it too. The mate bond was undeniable, sacred. The Moon Goddess had chosen us for each other.

"I know who you are," he replied, his voice deeper than I expected.

Something in his tone made my smile falter. There was no warmth in his gaze, no hint of the connection that should have been blossoming between us.

"Parker," he said, then paused. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, taking in my scent. "I need to make something clear."

The crowd around us seemed to sense the tension. Conversations quieted as wolves nearby turned to watch.

"I refuse to be shackled by the Moon Goddess's... mistake," he announced, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Mistake? The word cut through me like a blade.

"I won't be bound to someone I don't choose," he continued, stepping back from me as if my very presence contaminated him. "The sacred bond is nothing but an outdated tradition."

My wolf whimpered in confusion and pain. *Mate. Ours.*

"No," I whispered, reaching toward him instinctively.

Parker's face twisted in visible disgust. "Don't touch me."

The words fell like stones into still water, sending ripples of shock through the gathered crowd. Whispers erupted around us—horrified gasps from some, curious murmurs from others.

My father stepped forward from where he'd been watching, his face darkening with anger. "Parker Russell, you will—"

"Watch this," Parker interrupted, turning away from me.

He strode across the ballroom floor with purpose, his Alpha aura pulsing with each step. The crowd parted before him like water around stone.

Ariana Graham stood near the refreshment table, her delicate features arranged in a mask of innocence. She was beautiful in a fragile way—the kind that made wolves want to protect her.

But I knew better. I'd known Ariana since childhood. Behind those wide eyes and trembling lips lay a calculating mind.

"Parker," she breathed as he approached her. "What are you doing?"

The ballroom fell silent. Even the musicians stopped playing.

"What I should have done long ago," Parker replied, his voice carrying to every corner