After 99 Rejections, l Got Engaged With The Lycan King's Heir

A stabbing pain in my abdomen yanked me out of unconsciousness.

Instinctively, I reached beneath me, but my hand came back sticky with cold blood.

My child!

I bolted upright, only for agony to shoot through my entire body. It felt like every bone had been shattered.

Why hadn’t my wolf healed me?

I called out to her in my mind, but there was no response. I dragged myself off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom.

That’s when I saw it.

My hair, once long and soft—hair that Logan used to stroke and compare to silk was gone. It was shaved off by his own hand!

Tears burned in my eyes as they rolled down my battered face. I touched my cheek and felt crusted blood, swollen welts, and deep scars. My face was grotesquely swollen. With my mottled scalp and mangled appearance, I looked like a witch dragged up from hell.

So this was what Logan meant by loving and protecting me?

And our child... just because I refused to apologize to the woman who murdered my mother, he punched me—over and over—without mercy.

I curled up in a corner, shivering, calling again and again for my wolf. My wounds were too severe. Without her, I might die here.

On the 999th call, she appeared—bloody and broken, but alive.

Once I had enough strength to move, I clutched my fractured ribs and dug through the trash for my belongings. Then I left.

Tomorrow was my mother’s funeral. I had to send her off one final time.

She was the Luna of our pack. Her funeral should have been a grand ceremony in the plaza. But across from her quiet memorial was Maya’s lavish wedding.

Weston, the strongest Alpha of this generation, was marrying her. Guests from far and wide had come to the wedding.

Meanwhile, my mother’s funeral was nearly deserted. Not even Damian—my so-called father—or Logan, who my mother had loved like a son for eighteen years, showed up.

Instead, I saw Maya.

She was radiant in an eighty million dollar wedding dress, a fifty-million-dollar ruby necklace glittering at her throat. Her eyes glinted with triumph as she approached me.

“Amalia,” she said sweetly, “I know Weston was once your fated mate, and I get that you probably look down on me because I’m just an omega. But... this is my wedding. Why would you show up in mourning clothes?”

Her voice was shrill and piercing. People nearby turned to look, their whispers quick and cruel.

“God, she’s disgusting. Didn’t Weston already reject her? Why is she still hanging around?”

“Look at her face—how hideous!”

“I heard her mother was a discarded Luna. Maybe the Moon Goddess cursed her bloodline.”

“Or maybe it’s not a curse—it’s karma.”

I could endure their insults to me—but not when they desecrated my mother’s funeral.

“Maya, don’t flatter yourself. You’re nothing. I—”

“Oh no, Amalia, how can you wear a hat in this heat? Aren’t you hot?” she squealed, and with a dramatic gasp, she yanked off my hat.

Gasps echoed around me.

My mottled scalp was exposed. The stares shifted—from shock to mockery. Their eyes were blades, slicing what was left of my pride.

“Give it back!” I shouted, trembling with rage.

“Please don’t be like this... you’re scaring me,” Maya whimpered, retreating into the crowd like some helpless victim. But her eyes gleamed with open provocation.

I knew she was doing it on purpose.

But my wolf—wounded and weary—still refused to emerge. My body was slow and weak. I couldn’t even stop a frail omega from humiliating me.

“Amalia,” Maya continued, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I know you still can’t let go of Weston, but you’re about to marry Logan and become his Luna. Acting like this... how do you expect him to face everyone?”

I shoved through the crowd, trying to grab my hat back—not just for my dignity, but because this was my mother’s funeral.

Just as my fingers grazed the fabric, a massive force slammed into me.

A giant gray wolf’s paw smashed into my chest. I flew backward, coughing up blood, my newly healed ribs snapping again.

It was Weston.

Clutching my chest, I staggered upright and stared at Maya.

“Give me back my hat!”

“Amalia, what are you doing again?” Logan’s voice rang out. His eyes flickered when he saw my black mourning dress and wounded scalp.

“Go home, Amalia,” he said coldly. “Don’t ruin Maya’s big day.”

I took the hat and forced myself to my feet. “My mother is dead. Everything between us is over. I formally reject you as my mate.”

The pain of severing a mate's bond tore through me. I spat blood.

“Amalia, you—” Logan tried to speak.

I raised my hand and cut him off. “Accept my rejection. I never want to see you again.”

Holding myself together by thread, I returned to the funeral.

But it was chaos. My mother’s funeral had been completely desecrated. And when Damian finally arrived and saw my ruined appearance, his fury exploded—he slapped me, twice.

“You’ve brought shame to our entire family!”

He didn’t care about her. Or me.

I laughed.

But just as darkness started to pull me under again, I caught a familiar scent on Damian—gardenias.

I jolted, my eyes flying open.

Why was it her again?