The Secret Assassin Reborn As An Omega

CORA POV:

I walked into the grand hall like a lamb to the slaughter.

Every head turned. Hundreds of pairs of eyes fixed on me, and I could feel the weight of their judgment. The air was thick with whispers, sharp and stinging as a swarm of wasps.

"Is that her? Draven's mate?"

"God, she's... large. And that scar..."

"I heard she's wolfless. What a disgrace to the Ward Pack."

I kept my chin up, my face a blank mask. I pretended not to hear, not to see the pity and disgust in their faces. Their words were meaningless noise. My focus was on the man waiting for me on the raised dais.

Draven.

He stood tall and imposing in a perfectly tailored black suit. He looked like a king waiting for an execution. When his stormy eyes met mine, a flicker of revulsion crossed his face before it was replaced by that familiar icy mask.

The Pack Elder began the ceremony, his voice droning on about ancient bonds and the blessings of the Moon Goddess. It was all a farce.

The real drama began when the parents were called to give their blessing.

Draven's father, Arthur Ward, a man with a stern face and the same arrogant air as his wife, stepped forward. He didn't even look at me. He addressed the crowd.

"Today, we are merely fulfilling the obligations of an old contract," he announced, his voice booming. "Nothing more."

A wave of murmurs rippled through the guests. It was a slap in the face.

But Eleanor was the one who delivered the killing blow. She took the microphone, her painted lips curled into a sneer. Her voice was not loud, but it carried to every corner of the silent hall.

"The Ward family will not acknowledge a wolfless woman of questionable bloodline as our Luna."

The gasp from the crowd was a collective punch to my gut. Publicly. She had publicly disowned me at my own mating ceremony. I stood there, exposed, the centerpiece of a humiliating spectacle. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my short nails digging into my palms.

Draven's jaw tightened. I saw a muscle twitch in his cheek. This was too much, even for him. It was dishonorable. It was a stain on his family's name. But he remained silent.

I was about to open my mouth, to say something, anything, when a voice roared from the back of the hall.

"Eleanor, what is the meaning of this!"

My adoptive father, Robert Melton, stormed down the aisle. He was a big man, the Alpha of a small, insignificant pack, but he had a spine of steel. My adoptive mother, Laura Hicks, followed close behind, her face a mask of theatrical outrage.

Robert pointed a thick finger at Arthur. "Are you breaking the pact? Do you wish to make an enemy of the Melton Pack?"

Laura rushed to my side, enveloping me in a cloud of cheap perfume and feigned sympathy. "My poor baby," she wailed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "How could they do this to you?"

I leaned into her, letting my shoulders shake, playing the part of the broken victim.

Arthur's face was a thundercloud. He hadn't expected the meek Meltons to make a scene.

"We are simply speaking the truth!" Eleanor shrieked. "She is not worthy of my son!"

"Not worthy?" Robert laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "The contract was witnessed by the Goddess herself! Are you defying her will? I will take this matter to the Alpha Council!"

The threat hung in the air, heavy and potent. The Alpha Council. Their involvement would mean a formal inquiry, a public scandal that the proud Ward family could not afford.

Finally, Draven spoke. His voice was low, but it cut through the tension like a blade.

"Enough."

All eyes snapped to him. He looked at his parents, his expression unreadable. "The ceremony will proceed. She is my mate. That is a fact."

His word was law. It wasn't about me. It was about his authority. He would not allow his parents to undermine him in front of his entire pack and distinguished guests.

Arthur and Eleanor fell silent, their faces tight with fury.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur of forced smiles and suffocating tension. When the Elder pronounced us mates, I felt an invisible chain lock around my soul. There was no kiss. No embrace. Just a cold, hard look exchanged between Draven and me.

The moment it was over, he turned to me, his voice a low command. "You will be housed in the east wing. Stay out of my way and do not cause any trouble."

Then he was gone, swallowed by a crowd of well-wishers, leaving me alone on the stage.

Laura came over, fussing with my dress. "Don't you worry, sweetie," she whispered, her eyes darting around. "We're here for you."