Rejected by the Luna He Took For Granted

As Landon, the Lycan Prince, and I stood at the altar of the Silver Moon Pack’s grand hall, the moment came for the groom to kiss the bride. The air was thick with anticipation, the scent of rosemary and pine filling the space as the pack elders and warriors watched. Suddenly, Landon pushed me aside, his towering frame casting a shadow over me, and kissed Jasmine, the Omega bridesmaid standing behind me.

After a deep, fervent kiss, he turned back to me, his golden eyes gleaming with a casual arrogance. "Penelope," he said, his voice smooth but dismissive, "Jasmine has decided she never wants to mate but wanted to experience what a marking ceremony feels like. We agreed she could share in ours. Let’s carry on with the ceremony."

I glanced around the hall, the guests whispering amongst themselves, their scents mingling with unease. Jasmine’s satisfied expression, her lips curled into a smirk, made my stomach churn. The pack’s hierarchy was on full display—Landon’s Lycan status commanding their attention, my Gamma rank rendering me almost invisible in comparison.

With a smile that masked the storm brewing inside me, I replied, "If she’s 'borrowing' our marking ceremony, let this ceremony be yours instead."

Landon feigned hesitation, his broad shoulders shrugging as if this were a minor inconvenience. "That doesn’t seem quite right, but if you insist, I’m okay with it."

I nodded, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I’m fine with it, too. Just make sure you handle the ceremony expenses. It’s just over half a million dollars."

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"What do you mean, Penelope?" Landon demanded, his voice sharp with disbelief, his alpha tone cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. His face paled visibly, the faint scent of rosemary turning bitter.

I ignored him, stepping past him with my head held high. I took the microphone from Alexis, the pack’s Gamma warrior, and addressed the hall. "Dear friends and family, I apologize for today’s scene. The marking ceremony will go on, but I’m no longer the mate. My guests are invited to the second floor for a separate celebration. All gifts will be returned."

With that, I handed the microphone back to Alexis and walked off the stage toward my parents, my heels clicking against the marble floor. The pack’s hierarchy pressed down on me, their scents—vanilla, pine, and rosemary—filling my nostrils as I moved through the crowd.

My parents, respected elders of the Moonlight Pack, had never faced such humiliation. My mother’s scent, usually warm and comforting, was tinged with sadness, while my father, a retired Gamma, remained composed despite the weight of the situation.

"I’m sorry, Mom and Dad," I apologized, my voice barely above a whisper.

My mother looked at me with eyes that mirrored my pain, but my father’s steady gaze anchored me. "You’re an adult now, Penelope, responsible for your own decisions. Take care of this, and we’ll handle the guests upstairs."

My eyes welled up instantly, but I blinked the tears away. "Dad,