Rejected by the Heir The Omega’s Hundred-Nights Reckoning

Kael bolted toward the door without a second's hesitation.

I summoned my pack liaison through the mind-link and commanded her to arrange my early release from the healer's den immediately.

"Back to the estate."

Time to claim what was mine.

When I appeared at the warded threshold of the Blackwood territory with that pup cradled in my arms, the entire pack erupted.

Elders from both bloodlines, council members, pack aunts and uncles—everyone swarmed around me, their wolves rising to the surface in excitement.

"Oh, my precious great-grandpup!"

The Elder Matriarch took the pup from my arms with trembling care, her weathered face splitting into a smile so wide it seemed it might never close. Her wolf's presence softened, radiating warmth I could feel against my skin.

The Alpha Patriarch was even more overcome. His hands shook as he looked at me, ancient eyes brimming with approval, his dominant scent mellowing into something almost gentle.

"Selene, well done! You are the greatest contributor to our bloodline!"

I became the pack's hero.

Because I had given the four-generation Blackwood bloodline its first male heir of the fifth generation.

No one knew that my heart had already died in that cold healer's chamber, alongside the pup I would never hold.

My bond-father watched the denkeeper's carriage pull directly into the inner courtyard and frowned, his nostrils flaring. "Where is Kael?"

"Occupied elsewhere, I suppose. I did not catch his scent at the healer's den either."

The elders' rewards were staggering.

The Alpha Patriarch granted me a coastal den overlooking Blackwood Harbor. He placed the territory tokens on my nightstand himself, the ancient metal warm from his palm.

The Elder Matriarch brought out her most treasured moonstone jewelry—set after set, so luminous they seemed to hold captured starlight.

My bond-father transferred five percent of the Blackwood territory rights into my name, making me the youngest member of the pack council overnight.

My bond-mother was the most thoughtful. She gifted me a private island sanctuary in the southern waters, saying I could retreat there to recuperate once my body had healed from the birthing.

I smiled and accepted everything.

I deserved all of it.

I had paid for it with my pup's life.

No one knew that in the deepest corner of my den's inner chamber, I had carved out a small space.

There were no fine furs there. No ceremonial gowns.

Only a small memorial tablet, carved from sacred sandalwood.

It bore no name.

Before it lay a pair of tiny knitted booties I had made with my own hands—booties I would never give to anyone now. And a few heartbreakingly small pup wrappings.

Every night, when the pack fell silent and the moon hung heavy overhead, I would lock myself in that chamber.

I would hold that little tablet, running my fingers over its smooth surface again and again.

Little one, Mama is here.

Little one, your grandparents brought so many things today. If you were here, you would have them too.

Little one, do you blame Mama? Mama was useless. Mama could not protect you...

I never howled my grief aloud. I just let the tears slide down in silence, soaking into the wood I clutched against my chest.

There was a hole where my heart used to be—a wound that would never heal. Cold wind howled through it endlessly, and the pain made it impossible to breathe.

That was the secret that belonged only to me and my lost pup.

Kael returned to the estate too, but he did not dare come near me.

In front of the entire pack, the Alpha Patriarch struck his ceremonial staff against the stone floor and called him a disgrace. I had just "given birth," he thundered, and not only had Kael failed to stay by my side—he had upset me during my most vulnerable time.

He was made to kneel in the ancestral shrine all night, surrounded by the watching eyes of every Blackwood who had come before.

He probably could not understand it. The Selene who had once loved him to the point of obsession, the omega he had believed he held completely under his sway—how had she suddenly become this?

Occasionally, he would come to the bedchamber to keep me company. But more often, he went to see the pup.

He would hold the child clumsily, offer him the feeding bottle. And in his eyes, there was something unfamiliar—something that might have been called fatherly devotion.

One evening, he stood behind me for a long time. I could feel his presence, sense his wolf pacing restlessly beneath his skin. Then, finally, he spoke.

"Selene, about that night... I was wrong. I had drunk too much moonwine."

A pause.

"Vesper... she just depends on me too much. Do not hold it against her."