The Rejected Luna.

The Rejected Luna.

Jennybliss

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Camille Jones has spent her life as the lowest-ranking member of the Moonfall Pack, quietly enduring the scorn of those who consider her weak. But everything changes when she discovers her fated mate: Joffrey Smith, the ruthless Alpha. Her heart soars with the hope of escape, of finally being seen and loved. Instead, he rejects her in front of the entire pack, shattering her dreams and leaving her broken. Determined to move on, Camille fights to reclaim her life, but the mate bond lingers, haunting them both. Joffrey may have rejected her, but he can't deny the pull that ties them together. As Camille's hidden powers begin to surface, she realizes her destiny might be far greater than she imagined. And Joffrey? He'll do anything to keep her under his control, even as he's forced to confront the one thing he fears most: losing her. In a world where fate is a double-edged sword, Camille must find her own strength or risk being trapped forever by the Alpha who rejected her. Can she turn her rejection into her greatest weapon, or will her heart lead her back into the arms of the man who betrayed her?

Chapter 1 1

The moon hung high over the dense forest, casting a silver veil over the clearing where the Moonfall Pack's estate lay in eerie silence. Camille Jones moved quietly through the shadows, her footsteps light, almost ghostly, as she made her way to the back of the packhouse. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, a familiar comfort that did little to soothe her nerves tonight.

It was the night of the Mating Ceremony, an event where unmated wolves would gather, driven by the primal pull of fate in search of their destined partners. Camille should have felt excitement, a sense of hope even, but all she felt was dread. She was nothing more than a caretaker here, a role she'd been relegated to since she was old enough to scrub floors. Her rank was low, her presence mostly ignored, except when the higher-ranking wolves needed a target for their amusement.

The sound of laughter drifted through the night, echoing from the grand hall where the pack had gathered. Camille could see glimpses of them through the large windows: the women in their silk dresses, the men dressed sharply, exuding power and authority. She lingered outside, feeling every bit the outsider she was.

"Camille!" A sharp voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Elara, one of the pack's enforcers, glaring at her with thinly veiled disdain. "What are you doing skulking around out here? Get inside and make yourself useful. The Alpha doesn't want to see you loitering."

Camille bowed her head. "Yes, Elara," she whispered, stepping aside as the woman brushed past her, the scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air.

Inside the packhouse, the atmosphere was electric. The mingling scents of dozens of werewolves filled her nose-cologne, alcohol, and the distinct musk of power. Camille kept her gaze down, slipping through the room unnoticed as she collected empty glasses and trays. Her movements were quick and practiced; she'd become adept at blending into the background.

"Look who it is, the little omega rat," a sneering voice said.

Camille flinched but didn't look up. It was Derek, the Beta's son, and his friends. They took pleasure in tormenting her, knowing she was too weak to fight back.

"Cleaning up our mess as usual, huh, Camille?" Derek continued, leaning closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Why don't you run along before someone gets the wrong idea and thinks you're here to find a mate?"

Laughter rippled through the group. Camille forced a smile, a thin, strained curve of her lips, and ducked her head. "Of course, Derek," she muttered before slipping away, her cheeks burning with humiliation.

She retreated to the kitchen, her hands shaking as she set the empty glasses on the counter. The voices of the party guests faded to a distant hum, replaced by the rapid pounding of her heart. Why did she still hope? Why did she still dream that tonight could be different, that she might find her mate and escape this life of servitude?

Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the sink, closing her eyes. The bond-the one every werewolf felt when they met their mate-was something she'd dreamed of her entire life. It was supposed to be the one thing no one could take from her, the one thing that would finally lift her out of this darkness.

She didn't hear him enter, didn't sense his presence until she felt a hand grip her arm, spinning her around. Camille's eyes flew open, locking onto a pair of ice-blue eyes that burned with something dark and unreadable.

Alpha Joffrey.

The room seemed to shrink around her, the air turning cold despite the warmth of the night. Joffrey Smith was a towering figure, his dark hair falling loosely around his sharp, angular face. He looked down at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"You," he growled, his voice low and rough. "What are you doing in here?"

Camille's breath caught in her throat. The mate bond hit her like a wave-strong, undeniable, a sensation unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her heart pounded, her wolf stirring inside her with an excitement she'd never experienced.

He was her mate.

But there was no look of joy or relief on his face. Instead, his expression twisted into something like fury. He released her arm as if the touch burned him, taking a step back.

"No," Joffrey spat, his eyes narrowing. "This can't be right."

Camille's mouth opened, but no words came out. The rejection she saw in his eyes was like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of her lungs.

"You're my mate?" His tone was incredulous, laced with disgust. He looked her up and down, his lip curling. "You, an omega?"

The room spun, her vision blurring. Camille felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under her feet. "Joffrey," she whispered, barely able to get his name out. "You... you're my mate."

"No," he snarled, loud enough that the sound carried through the room, drawing the attention of several nearby pack members. "I, Joffrey Smith, Alpha of the Moonfall Pack, reject you, Camille Jones, as my mate."

The words hit her like a physical blow, stealing her breath and leaving her staggering. Pain lanced through her chest, sharper than any wound she'd ever experienced. The bond, the very thing she'd longed for, shattered into a thousand pieces.

She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes. "Why?" she whispered. "Why would you do this?"

Joffrey's eyes were cold, his expression unreadable. "Because you are nothing," he said simply. "A weak, pathetic omega. You are not worthy to stand by my side."

He turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, broken and alone. The room buzzed with whispers, eyes filled with pity and scorn watching her. Camille clutched her chest, gasping for air as the pain of the rejection consumed her. She stumbled back, her vision dimming, and the last thing she saw was the mocking smile on Derek's face before everything went dark

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