The Rejected Rogue Was Their Lost Princess

Briella Phillips stood before me, her posture as haughty as her words. Her aura, sharp and commanding, filled the room, a reminder of her status as the Lycan Princess. She declared three things with a cold, cutting tone.

First, she said, out of gratitude for my past help in saving Talon Fernandez, she would allow me to join her as his mate on the same day—though not as his primary mate, but as his chosen one, a position far beneath her.

Second, since I had already been in the Southern Pack for three years, she would entrust me with the responsibility of organizing the mark ceremony. Her smirk suggested it was less an honor and more a test of my loyalty.

Then, her gaze narrowed as she leaned forward, her scent—a mix of vanilla and rosemary—sharpening with her disdain. “Third,” she began, her voice dripping with mockery. “Jessie Carroll, is it?” She tilted her head, her wolfish eyes glinting with amusement. “Who gave you that name?”

I knelt on the floor, my knees aching from the three days I had spent in this position. My voice was steady, though my wolf stirred uneasily in the back of my mind. “My mother,” I answered.

Briella let out a soft, mocking laugh. In one swift motion, she kicked my shoulder, the force of her Alpha strength sending me sprawling onto the ground. My knees, already raw from kneeling, screamed in protest.

Talon’s brow furrowed, and he shifted slightly, as if to move toward me. But Briella caught his hand, her voice sweet and coaxing. “Talon, let me finish,” she purred, her Alpha tone lacing her words with authority.

She held up a necklace, a silver charm engraved with the letter “J.” “Do you know what this is?” she asked, her tone mocking. “Do you know where my name, Briella, comes from?”

I stared at the necklace, the engraving clear and deliberate. Of course I knew. Everyone in the pack knew. The necklace was a relic from the late Lycan Queen, a gift she had crafted for her daughter, the future Lycan Princess, on her eighth birthday. But the Queen had perished in a battle defending the pack’s borders, and her daughter had vanished shortly after.

The King, grief-stricken and desperate, had taken in a young girl from the outskirts of the pack and named her Briella, showering her with the love and status that should have belonged to his lost daughter.

“Talon,” Briella continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “when we return to the capital for our mark ceremony, the King might ask about her. If he does…” She glanced at me, her lips curling into a sneer. “A stray mate, daring to carry a name that echoes my own? It’s an insult.”

She turned to Talon, her expression softening as she smiled at him. “Don’t you think it’s better if she changes it? I’m only looking out for her, after all.”

Adelynn, my loyal servant, bowed her head low, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Alpha,” she began, her deference clear. Even she understood the gravity of Briella’s power. It was unheard of for a Lycan Princess to demand such a thing—this was nothing but a calculated humiliation.

But Talon’s gaze never left Briella. His eyes softened, the way they always did when he looked at her. “Of course, Briella,” he said, his voice warm and indulgent. “You’re always so thoughtful.” He reached out, brushing a strand of her golden hair from her face.

Then he turned to me, his tone casual, as if he were discussing something trivial. “So, Jessie…”

I lowered my eyes, a faint smile playing on my lips. “Fine,” I said, my voice calm despite the storm raging inside me. My wolf whimpered quietly, but I pushed her back. This was not the time to show weakness.