My Mate Publicly Rejected Me Before the Lycan Prince

The morning mist cleared by the time Eduardo parked the black sedan at the edge of the Silverpine clearing.

Through the trees, the ceremony looked like an outdoor palace. Silk canopies arched over freshly cut grass. Giant floral displays of white roses and lilies lined the aisle, and rows of mahogany chairs were packed with hundreds of wolves. Half of Ironvale was there. Visiting dignitaries and elders from neighboring packs sat near the front. Stationed around the perimeter was a squad of thick-necked warriors in unmarked dark tactical jackets—Bodie’s borrowed rogue mercenaries, standing tall to make him look like a conqueror.

Eduardo opened my door. He reached into the backseat and lifted the heavy cedar chest, draped in pitch-black velvet.

"Stay close," he muttered under his breath.

"Always," I said.

I adjusted my slate-grey shift dress and stepped onto the gravel path.

The moment our shoes hit the dirt, the laughter started.

Jemma White stood near the front row of chairs, surrounded by her clique. She pointed right at us, her red-painted lips curling into an exaggerated sneer. "Look who crawled out of the kitchen!" she loudly whispered, nudging the she-wolf beside her. "Did she come to beg? Or is she serving drinks?"

Giggles rippled through the front rows. Whispers spread like fire through dry grass. The crowd parted as we approached, their faces twisted in a mix of smug mockery and uncomfortable fascination.

I didn't slow down. I didn't look down at my shoes.

I kept my chin level, cataloging the space just as Eduardo had taught me since childhood. Three exits: the main gravel road behind us, the narrow deer trail past the sound booth, and the dense treeline behind the altar. Twenty-two rogue guards along the perimeter, all carrying sidearms under their jackets, their stances sloppy and undisciplined. Bodie was nowhere in sight yet.

And directly ahead, standing on the raised wooden ceremonial platform, was Lainey Pierce.

She wore a strapless white gown that flared at the waist, dripping in crystal beadwork. But what caught the light—and the breath in my throat—was the pendant resting against her collarbone. The stolen twin moonstone. A priceless Lycan royal relic, glowing with a soft, milky light, strung on a platinum cord.

When Lainey spotted me, her eyes lit up with predatory delight.

She picked up her skirts and descended the wooden steps, moving down the center aisle with the dramatic grace of a crowned queen greeting a peasant. The crowd fell silent, watching the show.

Lainey stopped three paces away. Her eyes flicked down to the black-draped box in Eduardo’s arms.

She tilted her head and let out a bright, ringing laugh.

"A cedar chest draped in black?" Lainey called out, making sure every elder and warrior could hear. "A traditional death offering? Oh, Serenity. You really didn't have to announce to the whole territory that you already know you're dead in the water."

Snickers erupted from the Ironvale rows. Jemma was practically shaking with glee.

Lainey stepped into my personal space. The heavy scent of artificial gardenia washed over me, thick and cloying.

She leaned close to my ear, keeping her voice low enough that only the first few rows could catch the blade in her tone.

"Take your little wooden box and get lost," she whispered, her smile sharp enough to draw blood. "Turn around and walk away before Bodie comes out and makes this more embarrassing than it already is. Have a little pride."

I didn't blink. I met her smug, hazel eyes with a stillness that was cold as glacier ice.

"I wouldn't miss this for anything in the world," I said quietly.

My voice was calm. Perfectly level. It carried no tremor, no anger, and no plea.

Lainey’s smile tightened at the edges. A flicker of irritation crossed her face, replaced instantly by venomous spite. She hated that I wasn't weeping. She hated that I hadn't dropped to my knees.

"Still pretending you're something, aren't you?" Lainey hissed.

Her hand shot out.

Her manicured fingers hooked into the thin silver chain around my throat. With a vicious, deliberate yank, she ripped it upward.

The metal snapped, biting painfully into the back of my neck.

I gasped as she ripped the ancestral moonstone amulet away.

Lainey held the milky, rough-cut stone up in the air between two fingers, displaying it to the crowd like a dead rat.

"Look at this pathetic piece of garbage!" she announced, her voice ringing off the pines. "A cloudy, cracked rock on a five-dollar chain! She wore this cheap trinket every single day, thinking it made her special. Thinking she was worthy of an Alpha!"

Lainey sneered, looked down at me, and opened her fingers.

The stone hit the packed dirt.

Before I could breathe, Lainey brought the heavy heel of her white bridal shoe down on top of it.

*Crack.*

The suppressing amulet shattered into a dozen chalky, white fragments. She ground her heel back and forth, turning the pieces into dust.

A loud round of whoops and cheers went up from the Ironvale wolves.

"Good riddance!" someone shouted.

A physical shudder tore through my body. My knees buckled slightly, my chest heaving as a sharp, wrenching flinch jerked through my ribs.

Lainey saw the flinch. Her chest puffed up with triumphant satisfaction, convinced she had just stomped out the last shred of my dignity.

She thought she had broken my heart.

She had no idea what she had actually broken.

Beneath the surface of my skin, the icy suppression field that had chained my blood for three long years dissolved into nothing. The heavy iron gate inside my soul shattered into dust.

Deep in my chest, a monstrous, silver-white wolf stretched her colossal paws, opened her jaws, and let out a silent, earth-shaking roar.

The barrier was gone.