The Neglected Luna's Ultimate Rejection

Chapter 3

Word Count: 867 | Released on: Today at 19:18

YN'S

the pack, to avoid him. My ankle was healing, but my heart remained a numb, cold thing in my chest. I'd successfully blocked Dorian from my side of t

a constant presence. She knew I'd retreated,

s journal, when my phone buzzed on the desk. I ignored it. It was probably just another concerned mes

, I picked it up. It wasn't a call. It was a series of messages from

lly taken, artfully lit photo of a slice of chocolate cake

his is your favorite. Devil's Food ca

rst and only "date" three years ago, a stilted, formal dinner where I'd talked nerv

was in the formal dining room of the pack house, a room I hadn't set foot in for months. Behind her, the table

, candles blazing. And sitting next to the cake, gleaming

arved for him before he died. He had told me once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that it was h

et her use it as a prop f

was looking at her, and she had her hand on his arm, leaning into him. The cake and the wooden wolf wer

choice of word. A reminder of hi

d strike. A declaration of war. She took something deeply personal to me-a memory, a favorite thing-and twisted it

a tidal wave of agony so profound it stole my breath. My inner wolf, which had been whimpering in a cor

g soul together. It wasn't enough to take his time, his affection, his smile. She had to grind my face into the dirt

th alarm. "Evie! What is it? I felt that th

pointed a trembling finge

rom confusion to disbelief, then to pu

would not be a victim in my own story. I would not be a ghost in my own life. This bond, this cursed chain that lin

calm. "Find me the pack laws. Fin

Chapter End

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The Neglected Luna's Ultimate Rejection

Xin Zhi Werewolf

“For three years, I was the Luna of the Carlisle pack in name only, bound to an Alpha who treated me like inherited furniture while giving all his warmth to another woman. When my car was run off the road by rogues and I lay bleeding in a ditch with a shattered ankle, I called him for help. He coldly told me not to be dramatic and hung up because he had to pick up his favorite, Sloane, and her son. After that, his cruelty only escalated. He let Sloane use his sacred family heirloom to celebrate her birthday, eating the very cake he knew was my favorite. When my mother fell into a critical coma, he ordered her to be kicked out of the prime healing chamber just so Sloane's mother could have it. He even stole my family's sacred, ancestral architectural designs and handed them to Sloane on a silver platter to launch her new career. I had swallowed my pride when he flaunted his affection for her, and I bit my tongue when he left me to die. But how could he desecrate my bloodline's legacy and endanger my dying mother, dismissing my heritage as a mere pack asset to be bought off with a check? The pain that had been burning me alive finally turned into cold, hard resolve. I marched straight into his office, looked the powerful Alpha King dead in the eye, and spoke the ancient words he never thought I would dare to say. "I, Evelyn Crane, demand The Rejection."”