Rejected Mate's Revenge

The maître d' led me to a secluded corner table where Benedict sat, his Harvard Law diploma and a contract from one of Manhattan's most prestigious law firms displayed prominently before him. The restaurant's soft lighting caught the gold embossing on his diploma, making it gleam like a trophy. My heart fluttered as I approached, thinking he'd called me here to celebrate his accomplishments—our accomplishments, really, since my pack's resources had funded every step of his journey.

"Benedict," I said softly, sliding into the seat across from him. "This is wonderful. I'm so proud of you."

He didn't smile. His eyes, once warm when they looked at me, now held a coldness that made my skin prickle with unease. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, sensing danger before I could process it.

"Lily," he said, using the name I'd gone by during our five years together. "There's something important I need to tell you."

I reached for his hand across the table, but he pulled away, straightening his already immaculate tie. The gesture cut deeper than any words could have.

"I've been offered a position at Blackwell & Associates," he continued, tapping the contract with one perfectly manicured finger. "Senior associate position. Unprecedented for someone right out of law school."

"That's amazing," I whispered, still trying to understand why he wouldn't look at me. "We should celebrate."

"Yes," he agreed, his voice suddenly formal. "Celebrate my future. A future that doesn't include you."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself.

"Benedict, what are you saying?"

He squared his shoulders and looked directly at me for the first time since I'd arrived. "I, Benedict Stevens, reject you, Lily, as my mate."

The formal words of rejection sliced through me like claws. My wolf howled in agony inside my mind, but I kept my composure, years of hiding my true nature making me an expert at concealing pain.

"A worthless Omega artist isn't worthy of a successful lawyer," he continued, each word precise and cutting. "The firm has connections to several pack alliances. They expect their associates to maintain certain... standards."

"Benedict," I pleaded, leaning forward. "You know what our mate bond means. You know what I've sacrificed for you—"

"What you've sacrificed?" He laughed, the sound hollow and cruel. "Your little art gallery job? Your pathetic paintings? Do you have any idea what I've accomplished?"

I opened my mouth to tell him about the pack funds I'd diverted to pay his tuition, about the connections I'd used to secure his clerkship last summer, but before I could speak, a shadow fell across our table.

"Is there a problem here?" The voice was silky and dangerous, carrying the unmistakable weight of Alpha authority.

I looked up to see a elegant woman with perfectly coiffed silver hair and eyes identical to Benedict's. His mother—the former Luna whose status had been stripped away years ago.

"Mother," Benedict said, standing to kiss her cheek.