The Rejected Luna's Vow Of Spite

Elara Thorne POV:

My body hit the cold stone floor with a dull, heavy thud.

The Omega nurse, Clara, gasped and started to move toward me, but a single, icy glare from Ryker stopped her in her tracks.

He scowled, his expression not one of concern, but of pure annoyance. He strode over and stood above me, his large frame casting a dark shadow over my prone form.

He crouched down, his fingers gripping my chin in a rough, bruising hold, forcing my head up. My face was completely drained of color, my lips a pale, bluish-white.

I felt a low, uneasy growl rumble in his chest—his wolf, Ragnar, protesting—but he ruthlessly suppressed it. He would blame the bond, the last vestiges of a connection he despised, for any flicker of concern.

“Ryker… is she… is she okay?” Seraphina’s voice was a frail, worried whisper from the bed.

He immediately released me, my head dropping back against the hard floor. He went to her side, his demeanor shifting instantly to one of gentle reassurance as he took her hand. “Don’t worry about her. She’s just putting on a show.”

He shot a look of utter contempt over his shoulder at me. “Losing a little blood and she faints? It’s just a pathetic attempt to get my sympathy. To make me regret rejecting her.”

His words, sharp and poisoned, pierced through the fog of my returning consciousness.

My eyes fluttered open. The first thing I saw was Ryker tenderly tucking the blankets around Seraphina and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

That single, intimate gesture shattered my heart in a way the physical pain never could.

A toxic mix of jealousy and hatred coiled in my gut. I hated her for having what should have been mine, but I hated myself more. I hated myself for ever loving a man so capable of such profound cruelty.

He felt my stare and turned his head, his voice dripping with ice. “You’re awake? Good. Get out of my sight. Go back to your room.”

He gestured dismissively to the nurse. “Clara, escort her out.”

The young Omega approached me timidly. “Future Luna, let me help you…”

I pushed her gentle hand away. Using every last ounce of my strength, I pressed my palm against the cold floor and leveraged myself against the wall, staggering to my feet. An Alpha’s daughter does not accept pity.

I swayed, my body screaming in protest, but I held Ryker’s gaze with all the defiance I could muster.

He didn’t see my pain. He saw only what he wanted to see: a challenge. A silent, insolent rebellion.

His jaw tightened, the anger in his eyes deepening.

Without a word, I turned and began the slow, agonizing journey to the door. Each step felt like I was walking on shattered glass.

As I reached the threshold, I heard Seraphina’s voice, just loud enough for me to hear, as she snuggled into Ryker’s arms. “Thank you, Ryker. I knew it. No silly Mating Bond could ever keep us apart.”

My body went rigid. I quickened my pace, practically fleeing the room.

The door clicked shut behind me, sealing me in the empty hallway with my pain. I collapsed against the wall, my breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.

*He hates us,* Lyra sobbed in my mind, her voice broken. *He truly, truly hates us.*

I closed my eyes, and a single, hot tear finally escaped, tracing a path down my cold cheek.

I wiped it away with a vicious swipe of my hand.

That was the last one. The very last tear I would ever shed for Ryker Blackwood. From this moment on, I would live for myself—however little time I had left.