His Rejected Omega The Bond He Destroyed

The Alpha's Blood Seal.

Authority to sign all documents on his behalf.

Dominic Ashford — the wolf so meticulous, so obsessively controlled, that he reviewed every critical blood oath accord with his own eyes before granting approval.

And he had given that power to her.

As if to prove it, Serena reached into her bag and produced an exquisite crimson seal, carved from moonstone and pulsing faintly with the residual essence of Dominic's own blood.

She didn't even glance at the contents.

She flipped straight to the last page.

The seal came down with a sharp, decisive crack.

"There. Signed."

She shoved the documents back into my hands, her tone dripping with the casual condescension of someone tossing scraps to a stray. "I've heard all about it from Dominic. You two are nothing but an arranged mating — a political bond. So stay in your place. These little accords for dens and trinkets? Bring them directly to me from now on. Stop bothering him with every small thing. He doesn't want to see you."

I looked down at the fresh crimson imprint on the page.

That mark — the symbol of his identity, his bloodline authority, the most sacred instrument of an Alpha's power. Any document bearing it became irrevocable under Moon Goddess law.

And now it sat on this page like a vast, bloody joke.

My lips parted. I wanted to tell her.

This wasn't an accord for purchasing a den.

This was a Bond Severance Accord.

But before the words could form —

A piercing alarm shrieked through the building, the shrill wail of fire wards activating all at once.

"Fire! Run!"

Someone's scream cut through the crowd.

In the next heartbeat, chaos erupted.

Every wolf in the hall surged toward the exits in a frenzied stampede. Serena and I had been standing deep inside the venue, and the crush of bodies closed around us like a vice, pressing from every side.

An instant later, we were both knocked to the ground.

"Ahhh!"

"Don't step on me!"

Countless feet trampled over us. Pain detonated through my body like lightning strikes, one after another. I felt my ribs compressing, my bones grinding as if they were being crushed inch by inch. I clawed at the floor, desperate to rise, but I couldn't move. The weight of the stampede pinned me flat, and my wolf — already weakened from years of silver exposure and malnourishment — could barely stir beneath my skin, let alone lend me the strength to shift or fight free.

"Dominic, save me!"

Serena's voice was raw, ragged with sobs, tearing through the noise like a wounded animal's cry.

And then — the next second — I heard his voice.

Laced with a panic I had never once heard from him in five years.

"Baby!"

I saw him fight his way back through the fleeing crowd, his massive frame cutting through the stampede like a predator moving against the current.

I shoved at the bodies pressing down on me, and somewhere in the wreckage of my chest, a pitiful, desperate spark of hope flickered to life. He was coming back. He was coming back for —

But the next second, I saw everything clearly.

He charged forward, and his gaze locked onto Serena with the precision of a wolf tracking its sole prey. Without a heartbeat of hesitation, he bent down, scooped her into his arms, and cradled her against his chest. His body curled around hers — shielding her, protecting her — and he turned and sprinted toward the exit.

From start to finish, he did not look at me once.

"Dominic! Dominic!"

I screamed his name with every shred of breath left in my lungs.

But my voice drowned beneath the shrieking alarms and the thunder of panicked wolves. The sound was swallowed whole, as if I had never made it at all.

Did he hear me?

Perhaps he did.

But he didn't turn back.

Just as I was certain I would be trampled to death on that floor — my ribs cracking, my wolf whimpering and fading into silence inside me — that familiar silhouette appeared again in the smoke-hazed doorway.

He came back.

Something surged in my chest. A guttering flame in the ashes of my heart, desperate and pathetic and alive.

He came back for me after all.

But the next second, I understood exactly how foolish I was.

He rushed to my side, but his eyes never found mine. Not once. He simply bent down and plucked something from beside my hand — a delicate bracelet that must have fallen from Serena's wrist during the chaos. His fingers closed around it, knuckles white, and he turned to leave without a single word.

From the doorway, Serena's voice carried back to me — tearful one moment, then bright with laughter the next: "Oh, thank the Moon Goddess, you found it! That's my favorite bracelet — if it had been crushed I would have cried all day!"

He strode back to her side, and his voice carried the easy relief of something precious recovered, wrapped in that familiar, indulgent warmth he reserved only for her: "Well, I couldn't let my baby cry. That's why I went back for it."

"You're so good to me."

She rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

So that was why.

He came back for a bracelet.

In his heart, I — his bonded mate of five years, the Luna who bore his mark on her shoulder — was worth less than a piece of her jewelry.

The last thread holding me together snapped.

My wolf let out a single, broken keen deep inside my skull, and then she went silent. Completely, terrifyingly silent — the way a wolf goes quiet only when it has given up.

My vision darkened.

I lost all consciousness.

When I woke again, it was on a healer's table.

The blinding white light of the Healing Hall's examination lamps seared through my eyelids, so harsh I could barely force my eyes open. The sterile scent of medicinal herbs and antiseptic wolfsbane-neutralizer hung thick in the air.

The pack healer's voice reached me through the fog: "Luna Ashford, you're awake. You've sustained extensive soft tissue damage across your body. There are suspected fractures along your ribs, and the trampling caused internal bleeding in your abdomen. We need to operate immediately."

The attending healer was already preparing to inject the sedative into my arm.

Then a deafening crash split the air.

The door to the healing chamber was kicked open with enough force to crack the frame.

Several enforcers in black stormed inside and ripped the needle from my hand without a word.

"What do you think you're doing? This patient needs surgery now!" The healer's voice rose in fury, stepping forward to block them.

They didn't even acknowledge him.

Rough hands seized me and dragged me off the table. My body screamed with agony at every point of contact, pain so intense it turned everything numb, as if my nerve endings had simply surrendered. My wolf didn't even stir. She lay curled in the farthest corner of my mind, utterly still, utterly broken.