Rejected by My Mate, Chosen by the Wolf Prince

FAITH POV:

"Spread your legs a little wider. You need to be ready for the Gamma tonight."

A pain so brutal it felt as though my bones were crushed into dust and then pieced back together tore me from the darkness.

I gasped, my eyes snapping open.

The first thing I saw was a cold, pinched face. Matron Price, the head housekeeper of the Haynes family, was impatiently tugging at the silk gown I wore. The crescent moon emblem of the Goddess was embroidered across the fabric.

Her touch was rough and careless.

I lowered my gaze. The silk was cold against my skin.

This was the dress I had worn for my wedding in my previous life.

I was back—on the very first day my nightmare began.

"Hurry up, Faith," Matron Price snapped, her voice filled with the contempt she never bothered to hide. "Don't keep the Gamma waiting."

In my previous life, those words had filled me with shame and a desperate need to please.

Now, all I felt was a hatred so cold it burned.

In my previous life, I had walked into my wedding with hope in my heart and love in my chest, believing the Moon Goddess had chosen him for me.

But the very next day, Benson dragged me out of our chambers—naked—and threw me before the household.

In front of everyone, he pointed at me and declared I was not pure.

He claimed I had been with another wolf before him.

In his rage, he kicked me—once, twice—until the stone floor beneath me turned red. The physician said I would never carry a child.

From that day on, I was nothing.

Even the servants turned on me. They spat at my feet, laughed at my pain, and treated me like I was less than the dirt beneath their shoes.

Meanwhile, every shred of Benson Haynes's love and attention belonged to my stepsister, Alondra Parrish.

He mocked me as a useless Omega—barren, broken, good for nothing but the dirt beneath his heel. He stole my work, my herbs, every cure I ever brewed, and laid them at Alondra's feet like offerings to a queen.

That was when I finally understood. He had never loved me. Not once. And for her—for Alondra—he would tear me apart piece by piece, smile as I bled, and call it justice.

I remembered the cold stone against my back as my life bled out of me, drop by drop, while they toasted my destruction in the next room.

No. Not this time.

Never again.

I took a deep breath, forcing the storm inside me into a quiet, deadly calm. I turned to Matron Price and gave her a weak, obedient smile.

"I'm sorry, Matron Price. I'm just a little nervous."

She scoffed, a harsh and disbelieving sound, but she didn't question me. She only pointed toward the jewelry box on the vanity.

"Finish getting ready."

I obediently picked up a pearl necklace.

My thoughts raced as I replayed the ceremony in my mind.

The core of the Mating Ceremony was the Marking.

The bite.

Once completed, the bond between mates became permanent—a spiritual chain that could not easily be broken.

Last time, he Marked me in this very house.

He used that bond as a weapon, turning it into a cage that trapped me for the rest of my life and allowed him to exploit my healing abilities whenever he wished.

This time, I had to stop it.

I knew Benson's obsession with Alondra.

I knew her false innocence and her poisonous jealousy.

I knew everyone in the Haynes family looked down on me—the unwanted Omega foster child from the Parrish family.

Those things had once been the source of all my suffering.

Now, they would become my weapons.

"Stop dawdling," Matron Price said, giving me a rough shove toward the door. "The Gamma is already downstairs."

I heard the faint murmur of voices coming from the grand hall below, the sound of guests welcoming Benson Haynes's arrival.

I steadied myself. My body was a calm island in the turbulent sea of my emotions.

My plan was already taking shape—sharp and clear.

First, I needed a perfect excuse to delay the ceremony, even if only for a few minutes.

Second, I needed to obtain something that carried his personal scent and authority, something that could serve as a proxy for him in the Rejection ritual.

According to the ancient laws of our people, the Rejection ritual required either the consent of both parties or an object of great personal significance from the other person, acting as a representation of their will. However, such objects were extremely difficult to obtain, and the ritual could rarely be performed after a mate had already been Marked.

And the one thing Benson never parted with was the signet ring that represented his position as the Gamma of his pack.

I looked at my reflection one final time.

A flicker of cold and sharp calculation illuminated my green eyes.

Matron Price threw open the door.

Beyond it was the hallway leading to my personal hell, covered in the same blood-red carpet I remembered.

I took a deep breath and stepped forward.