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His Rejected Omega The Lost Silvercrest Heiress Novel Cover

His Rejected Omega The Lost Silvercrest Heiress

For seven years, Seraphina bled for Alpha Fenris Blackthorn, only to be publicly replaced by a manipulative rival. Forced to surrender her ceremonial circlet, Seraphina complies without a fight, letting her arrogant mate believe she has submitted. But Fenris is unaware of her secret: Seraphina’s lost memories have just returned. She is actually the long-lost Omega heiress of the ancient Silvercrest Pack, and her family’s elite warriors are already on their way to reclaim her.
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Chapter 1

There was an unspoken law among the high-ranking wolves of the Capital Territory.

When an Alpha's new chosen mate wished to claim her place, the woman she was replacing had to remove the Luna's Moonstone Circlet in front of the assembled pack and fasten it around the new woman's throat with her own hands.

The day Fenris Blackthorn brought Ravenna Foxglove into the den, every pureblood she-wolf in the Capital was waiting for me to tear the Blackthorn Pack Estate apart.

I had stood at Fenris's side for seven years. For that circlet, I had knelt in the Blackthorn ancestral hall for three days and three nights, enduring the judgment of every elder whose eyes burned like coals in the torchlight. I had taken a silver blade meant for his heart, letting it bury itself in my own flesh until the poison seared through my blood like liquid fire.

Everyone was certain I would never surrender my place without a fight.

But when Ravenna walked toward me draped in a Starweave Ceremonial Cloak that was not hers to wear, her eyes wide and soft with manufactured innocence, her hand extended, palm up, in the gesture of a she-wolf requesting tribute from a lesser rank—

I did not make a scene. I calmly unclasped the moonstone circlet from my throat and fastened it around hers.

Fenris stood a few paces away, one hand curled around a crystal goblet of bloodwine, his dark eyes gleaming with arrogance and satisfaction. His Alpha aura pulsed through the room, thick and suffocating, pressing against the shoulders of every wolf present. He wanted them all to witness this. He wanted me to feel it.

"Seraphina Silvercrest Blackthorn. You've finally learned your place."

I lowered my gaze to my bare throat, to the skin still warm where the moonstone had rested, and said nothing.

What Fenris did not know was this:

One moon cycle ago, every memory I had lost came flooding back like a river breaking through a dam.

I was the true-born Omega daughter of the Silvercrest Pack, the most ancient and powerful pureblood lineage in the Moonhaven Territory, missing for seven years.

In three days, my eldest brother's formation of elite pack wolves would cross into the Capital Territory to bring me home.

——

The Blackthorn Pack Estate blazed with light that evening, enchanted lanterns casting pale silver across the great hall. The vaulted stone chamber was packed with wolves of rank and standing, their scents mingling into a heady fog of cedar, amber, musk, and old blood. Silk and leather and ceremonial furs caught the lantern-glow as the Capital's pureblood society gathered to witness my humiliation.

Ravenna Foxglove raised her hand, turning slowly so the Luna's Moonstone Circlet caught the light at her throat. She tilted her chin and let the gathered she-wolves admire it, her manufactured scent of honeyed violets cloying in the air, too sweet, too deliberate.

Sharp intakes of breath rippled through the crowd. Then came the sidelong glances, some pitying, some mocking, all of them drifting toward the corner where I stood alone. I could feel their gazes on my skin like the prick of claws.

Fenris Blackthorn sat at the head of the long table, his powerful frame draped in black, his dark hair falling across a brow that never softened. His gaze drifted toward me every now and then, watching, measuring, waiting for something. A crack in my composure. A whimper. Some proof that he had broken me thoroughly enough.

My wolf lay curled deep inside my chest, silent and still. A moon cycle ago, when my memories had returned, she had stirred for the first time in years. Now she waited, patient as stone, her silver eyes open in the dark.

Once Ravenna had soaked up enough admiration, she plucked a crystal flute of moonwine from a passing attendant's tray and sauntered toward me. Her hips swayed with practiced ease. Her lips curved.

Her gaze dropped to my neck.

There, resting against my collarbone, hung the Bloodrose Pendant, an extraordinarily rare relic of enchanted crimson crystal set in white gold, pulsing faintly with its own inner light. Three years ago, on my Moon Blessing Day, Fenris had bid eighty thousand gold moons for it at the Moonhaven Relic Auction. It was the only gift he had ever given me that felt like it came from something other than obligation.

Ravenna let out a soft laugh and leaned close to my ear. Her breath was warm, her distress pheromones carefully muted now, replaced by the smug, territorial scent of a she-wolf who believed she had already won.

"Seraphina, since you've already handed over the circlet, don't you think it's a little inappropriate for you to still be wearing the Alpha's mate's heirlooms?"

She reached for the pendant.

I stepped back.

Ravenna used the momentum of my retreat to tilt the crystal flute in her hand.

Pale gold moonwine splashed across the front of my silk gown, soaking through the fabric until it clung cold against my skin. The sharp, sweet scent of it bloomed in the air.

A sharp crack followed as the flute slipped from her fingers and shattered across the stone floor. Shards scattered like teeth.

Ravenna immediately clutched the back of her hand, her lower lip trembling, her eyes flooding red. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks in an instant, and the scent that poured off her shifted, a sudden wave of distress pheromones so potent that several wolves nearby flinched. It was textbook manipulation, the kind of manufactured fragility designed to trigger every protective instinct in an Alpha's blood.

"Seraphina, I just thought the pendant was beautiful and wanted a closer look. If you didn't want to show me, you could have just said so. Why did you have to push me?"

The music stopped.

Every pair of eyes in the great hall turned toward us. I could hear heartbeats quickening, could smell the sharp spike of anticipation threading through the crowd like smoke.

For the past seven years, any she-wolf who had tried to get close to Fenris or provoke me had been driven from the territory without mercy. I had once shoved a Beta actress's face into a ceremonial offering in front of the entire Capital's pureblood society after she had tried to crawl into his den uninvited. My reputation was a blade I had sharpened with my own hands, and every wolf in this room remembered its edge.

Fenris crossed the hall in long, deliberate strides, his boots striking the stone floor with the weight of a predator who did not need to hurry. He pulled Ravenna behind him, one arm curving around her shoulders, shielding her body with his own. His Alpha aura flared, and the pressure in the room shifted, thickened, pressed down against my sternum like a hand pushing me toward the ground.

He looked down at the faint red mark on the back of Ravenna's hand, and his brow furrowed tight. A low sound built in his chest, not quite a growl, but close enough that the wolves nearest to us dropped their gazes.

"Seraphina, what the hell is wrong with you? Ravenna only just returned to the territory. Why are you going after her?"

His voice dripped with undisguised favoritism and reproach. Every word was a display, calculated to show the room whose side he stood on. He did not even look at the moonwine soaking my gown. He did not glance at the shattered crystal at my feet.

I stared at that face. The sharp jaw, the dark eyes, the mouth I had once pressed my lips to when he lay bleeding and half-conscious after a border skirmish, whispering promises I meant with every fiber of my being. The face I had loved down to the marrow of my bones, down to the deepest place where my wolf curled around his memory like it was the only warmth left in the world.

A dull ache spread through my chest. My wolf stirred, just barely, a slow exhale of grief that felt ancient and heavy. Not for what I was losing. For what I had already lost a long time ago.

I drew a slow breath and forced the sting behind my eyes back down. My throat burned, but I kept my expression still. I would not give him this. Not tonight. Not ever again.

I did not explain. I did not lose my temper.

I lifted my hands, reached behind my neck, and unclasped the Bloodrose Pendant. The chain slid away from my skin, and the faint warmth it had carried against my collarbone vanished, leaving nothing but cool air against bare flesh.

Under the stunned gazes of every wolf in the room, I held it out to Ravenna.

"You like it? Then it's yours. I lost my footing just now. I'm sorry."

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