The Luna He Couldn't Keep: From Rejection To Redemption

He stood tall, his broad shoulders filling out the tailored white tuxedo, his Alpha aura commanding the room. Beside him, Vivienne Johnston clung to his arm, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders like a Luna in waiting. The sight of them together made my stomach churn.

Upon seeing me, Osman’s brow furrowed, and his voice carried that familiar Alpha tone, sharp and dismissive. “Is today the day you choose to dress like that, deliberately trying to make me look bad?”

The Victorian-style dress I had picked out long ago still hung in the corner of the room, a silent reminder of what could have been. But Osman hadn’t given me the chance to wear it. I forced a smile, gesturing to Vivienne, who was draped in haute couture, and shakily asked, “Alpha Osman, who’s this? Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

At the mention of her, his expression softened, a rare warmth creeping into his voice. “Vivienne Johnston, my mate.” Then he gestured toward me, his tone flattening. “Amaris, my... former Omega.”

My smile froze, tears pooling in my eyes instantly. Osman looked away, his expression serene, as if he were discussing the weather rather than severing seven years of loyalty and sacrifice.

“Amaris, we were never officially mated, were we?” he said, his tone almost casual. “You don’t need to look at me like that. I appreciate the seven years you stood by me, but the Elliott Pack needs an heir. You can’t have children; don’t hold me back, okay?”

His words were a mix of questioning yet assured, as if he were explaining something obvious to a child. I felt paralyzed, unable to move a single inch. The onlookers’ stares were filled with spite, all directed at me. Everyone in the pack knew I had been by Osman’s side through every struggle, every triumph. Yet here he was, humiliating me at such an occasion. The weight of his Alpha aura pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe.

Vivienne watched my discomfort with composed detachment, her lips curling into a faint, smug smile. Suddenly, her hand shook, and she spilled a full glass of red wine all over me. Before I could react, she gasped, her voice dripping with faux innocence, “Sister Amaris, I didn’t mean to.”

Osman wiped away her tears with a kiss, his voice soothing. “No one blames you, Vivienne.” Tears and wine mingled on my face, and I couldn’t stop trembling. Amidst the laughter of the crowd, I heard someone mutter, “An Omega who can’t bear pups is just useless.”

Osman sighed, his Alpha tone softening slightly as he leaned in, his voice low but firm. “I know you’ve worked hard, Amaris. How about I double your year-end bonus? Just don’t make a scene today.”

I pushed him away, staring at him in disbelief. This was the Alpha who once reacted as if the world was ending whenever I cried. How did he change so drastically overnight? I couldn’t understand or accept it.

Seeing my vacant stare, Osman’s patience wore thin. He returned to Vivienne’s side, pulled a check for two million dollars from her handbag, and tossed it in front of me. “Consider it compensation.”

I didn’t pick it up, my gaze fixed on her handbag. It was the same one I’d added to my shopping cart on Amazon two years ago but never bought. Osman had promised to get it for me.

Vivienne took out a lipstick from the bag and handed it to me, her smile sweet but her eyes sharp. “Alpha Osman gave this to me. Since you like it, I’ll give it to you as an apology for what just happened.”

I didn’t take it, and her eyes reddened. Osman, pained, frowned at me, his Alpha tone cutting through the air. “Take it, Amaris. Vivienne gave it to you.”

I accepted it, picking up the check as I went. Seven years ago, when his pack was on the brink of collapse, I sold my family’s den and gave him three million, with the transfer note simply reading [Home]. Is this what differentiates love from a lack of it?

Amidst the revelry, I turned and left. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Osman kneeling to tie Vivienne’s ballet shoes, something he had done for me seven years ago. On her ankle was a bracelet identical to mine—the one Osman gave me for my birthday last year, claiming it was one of a kind.

Looking up, I met Vivienne’s smug smile. Pain shot through my heart, and I quickened my steps, not even stopping when my earring fell. It was the first gift Osman ever gave me. It pierced the carpet like a thorn lodged in my heart forever.

As I stepped out of the Elliott Pack’s grand hall, thunder rumbled through the sky. Moments ago, it was sunny; now, a torrential downpour drenched everything. I walked in the rain, my white t-shirt stained by mud.

My phone buzzed. Opening it, I saw a message from my mother. [Come home once you’ve had your fun, Jayden has been waiting for you.]

Above my mother’s message was an unread one from John: [I’ll wait for you, always.]