Chapter 3
The ceremonial hall fell silent as Grayson rushed to Miley's side, his face a perfect mask of concern. I watched, frozen in my wheelchair, as he cradled her in his arms like she was made of glass.
"The baby," she sobbed, her performance flawless as she clutched her swollen belly. "Something's wrong with our baby!"
Our baby. The words echoed through the hall, and I felt hundreds of eyes turn to me—some pitying, others shocked, all waiting for me to crumble.
"Get the Healers!" Grayson commanded, his Alpha tone reverberating through the room. "Now!"
Dr. Webb scrambled forward, his medical bag clutched tightly. "This way, Alpha. I'll need to examine her immediately."
"Everyone stay calm," Elder Kane announced, though his voice wavered. "The ceremony will resume once we've ensured the Omega is stable."
But we all knew the truth. This was no medical emergency. This was calculated humiliation.
I sat alone at the altar, abandoned on what should have been the most important day of my life. The whispers started immediately.
"Poor thing," someone murmured. "She must be devastated."
"I've never seen an Alpha abandon his mate like that," another voice added.
"He chose an Omega over his Luna," a third person hissed. "What kind of Alpha does that?"
I waited for the tears to come—the tears that had been my constant companion for three years. But something had changed. The wolfsbane in my system was wearing off, burned away by my rage.
"She'll break," I heard someone say. "She always does."
No. Not this time.
With trembling hands, I reached into the folds of my ceremonial gown where Elena had hidden a small silver dagger. Its weight felt reassuring in my palm.
"I won't be your victim anymore," I whispered, so softly only I could hear.
I pressed the blade against my palm and sliced deeply. Blood welled up immediately, bright red against my pale skin. Gasps rippled through the crowd as I raised my bleeding hand over the ceremonial altar.
"Look!" someone shouted. "What is she doing?"
I let my blood drip onto the ancient stone, watching as it spread across the carved symbols of our pack's history.
"I, Dakota Miller," I began, my voice shaky but determined, "reject you, Grayson Harvey, as my mate and Alpha."
The words hung in the air, ancient and powerful. A ripple of energy surged through the room as the blood on the altar began to glow.
"I reject your false bond," I continued, my voice growing stronger with each word. "I reject your lies, your control, and your betrayal."
Grayson's head snapped up, his eyes widening in horror as he realized what was happening. "Stop her!" he shouted, but it was too late.
"By the power of my blood and my wolf," I declared, feeling something stirring deep within me, "I sever this false bond that was forced upon us both."
A shockwave of energy exploded outward from the altar. The chandelier above us swayed violently, and several glasses shattered on nearby tables.
Grayson collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as if I'd driven a knife into his heart. His face contorted in agony as our fake bond snapped—a bond he'd created through lies and wolfsbane.
"No!" he screamed, reaching toward me. "You can't do this! You're nothing without me!"
Beside him, Miley shrieked in theatrical terror, doubling over again. "My baby! Someone help my baby!"
But I felt nothing—no pain, no regret, only a strange lightness as years of suppression fell away.
"You're under arrest for treason!" one of Grayson's guards shouted, lunging toward me.
I braced myself for the impact, but it never came.
The heavy oak doors of the grand hall exploded inward with a deafening crack. Wood splinters rained down on the stunned crowd as a figure stepped through the smoking entrance.
August Harvey.
He stood tall and imposing, his presence filling the room like a physical force. His dark hair was swept back from his forehead, and his eyes—a piercing ice-blue—surveyed the scene with calculated precision.
"Touch her," he said, his voice deceptively soft, "and die."
The guard froze mid-step, his body suddenly rigid with fear.
August took another step forward, and something changed in the air around us. A heavy, suffocating pressure filled the room as his Lycan aura expanded outward in waves.
One by one, every wolf in the room—from the highest-ranking Delta to Elder Kane himself—began to lower their heads and bare their necks in involuntary submission.
Even Grayson, still kneeling on the floor, found himself forced into the same position, his body betraying him as August's power crushed down upon us all.
"Hello, nephew," August said, his lips curving into a cold smile as he looked down at Grayson. "Miss me?"
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