Rejected By My Alpha, Wanted By The Lycan King

Amelia's POV

A raw, guttural scream ripped through my throat as what seemed like scalding water assaulted my skin. The burning sensation seared through me, and the intense heat wave engulfed every inch of my being.

"Get up now! Do you think you're a princess?" Someone yelled at the top of their voice, and from the tone, it was quite obvious it was little miss queen bee, Stacy.

I jolted up from my bed, scurrying off to create a distance between us, a surge of pain accompanying every movement I made. Taking a moment to observe my environment, my heart throbbed at the realization that she wasn't alone.

"Can't you be any less pathetic?" Stacy gritted her teeth, tilting towards me, her eyes filled with disgust. 

"I—" I tried explaining. 

Her little entourage just stood behind her, snickering at my situation.

"Keep whatever you have to say to yourself!" cutting me short with a wave of her hands. "You do know today’s the Blood Moon Feast, right? I believe you ain't that daft. Although, you just might be. Play your role as the maid and quit acting like a d*mn princess."

I scrambled off the floor immediately, disregarding the searing pain from the hot water that had been doused on me.

“I’m sorry,” I bowed. “I’ll go help with preparation.” I raised my head only to meet their retreating backs.

Stacy walked out with her little minions in tow, satisfied with my current state.

I waited a few minutes before rushing to my door to confirm they had gone. Once I was certain, I exhaled, and the tears I had been holding in from the pain I felt all over my body streamed down my cheek as though I had just opened a dam, its saltiness invading my mouth. 

I slowly walked to my small bathroom mirror, my gaze downcast. Lifting my head, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my usual pale skin looked flushed and rosy, an aftermath of the hot water. My dark, long curls stuck to my skin.

Snapping out of my reverie, I quickly took a cold shower and applied some Neosporin ointment all over my body. Once I was done, I dashed out of my room to start my chores before I incurred the wrath of any other member of this evil, cursed pack.

When I got downstairs, another Omega, Chloe, stopped me midway. "Here, take this to Madam Talulla in the kitchen and find out where to place it," she instructed, thrusting a bowl of what seemed like blood into my hands.

"What's that?" I questioned, my brows knitting together and my nose instinctively wrinkling in disgust. The pungent smell of iron and raw meat invaded my senses, making my stomach churn.

"It's the blood meal for the welcoming phase of today's feast." she emphasized as though it was glaringly obvious.

"Alright!" I sighed, reluctantly accepting the bowl. My nose remained crinkled, a futile attempt to ward off the persistent smell oozing from the content in the bowl.

I walked towards the kitchen as I presumed she'd be there.

"Madam Talulla, where does the blood meal go?" I inquired as soon as I spotted her, my throat constricting to suppress the rising bile.

Madam Talulla turned at the sound of my voice, her wrinkled face breaking into a warm smile that faltered as she noticed my discomfort. 

"Oh! Poor child! Just give those to Kevin." She gestured toward a burly figure in the corner. "You can't stand the stench of blood yet you're holding onto that like your life depended on it." Her voice carried a mixture of sympathy and amusement.

Despite how everyone in Blood Moon Park treated me, I never understood why Madam Talulla always treated me differently.

"Madam, it's not like—" I started, only to be cut off by Stacy. I believe the right title for her would be "A Lil' Spawn from Hell."

"She's a slave. Not even worthy to be called an omega. Isn’t she accustomed to chores? No one told her to be an orphan.” She sighed. “What a bad omen!" She flipped her black hair, revealing love bites around her nape.

"That’s so harsh and uncalled for!” Madame Talulla retorted, turning to face Stacy with her hands on her hips as she gave Stacy a stern look. “She may be trash to you and everyone else in this pack, but she's one of us, a werewolf. And anytime she's working with me, learn to shut your trap and keep your opinions to yourself or I'll shove it down your throat."

"Whatever!" Stacy rolled her eyes, averting them to mine.

She gave me a hard stare which sent chills down my spine. I knew what that meant. I was going to pay for what just happened.

Deciding not to dwell on the situation, since I'd gotten used to every ill treatment I received from the pack, I dedicated my efforts to help in the preparation for the blood moon feast. 

This year's celebration was huge since all neighboring packs were in attendance. Although prepping for it was rather daunting as it took up almost the whole day. I was hopeful that I could finally find the man who would help me escape this pack's torturous hands.

I returned to my room to wear the nicest thing I had there. It was an outfit I made from an old denim jacket and a floral bedsheet. Cut from the denim, the bodice featured a stylish asymmetrical neckline adorned with buttons salvaged from the jacket. The skirt, a playful mix of vibrant floral patterns, flowed gracefully from my cinched waist. Pockets from the denim jacket were repurposed. 

Fully dressed, I headed for the courtyard where the feast was meant to be held. It was meant to be an indoor affair, but since the blood moon tends to force a shift on werewolves, the event style was changed. I tried to walk a bit slowly to avoid the part with the blood meal. 

As I approached the courtyard, I walked around rather carefully towards a secluded corner to avoid being noticed by anyone besides my mate. From there, I watched as everyone mingled. I felt my heart sting a bit as I remembered that the last time I ever had fun was before my papa died during the attack when I was 7 years old. The last 11 years of my life have been nothing short of hell.

I noticed the blood moon had started to rise when the sky darkened. Every hair on my body began to rise. I couldn't help but notice how energetic the air seemed to become. 

Closing my eyes to take in the glory, I immediately got a whiff of fresh pine and the comforting warmth of hot chocolate; it smelled so familiar. I opened my eyes, stunned that I had hope for freedom. Not taking any chances, I set out to find him even though he couldn't find me.

Walking around the entire courtyard, I finally found where the scent was coming from. I found my mate, but it only made my heart sink and my stomach flip. Right there on a white hammock was my mate and Stacy locking lips. To top it off, my mate was Karsten, the one person who had plotted my downfall since I stepped foot in this pack. My mate was Alpha Karsten, the man who stripped me of my wolf and title as alpha female, the man who made me human as even an omega had a wolf, and I didn't.

My mind tried to analyze the situation while my heart broke with each passing second. And then it clicked. Karsten knew I was his mate when he turned 16 seven years ago. I couldn't help it as laughter bubbled up within me, a mix of disbelief and bitter irony. It spilled uncontrollably, echoing through the courtyard as if each note carried the weight of my shattered dreams, garnering everyone's attention and disrupting the amazing couple's romance.

I slowly walked towards him, still laughing and probably looking like I had finally snapped and lost my mind. I stopped walking and laughing when I was about 3 feet away from him, making the whole place go silent. Even the forest and its inhabitants seemed to understand, as nothing in it made a sound.

"You knew, didn't you?" I gave Karsten the best forced smile I could muster.

"Knew about what? That you've lost it?" he replied, feigning ignorance.

"Hmm... Alright! Plain English, then.” I let out a bitter chuckle that immediately turned sour. “Did you know I was your mate?" I asked clenching my fists behind me, my piercing gaze sternly fixed on him.

He chuckled, the sound echoing, "Oh! You finally found out. Good riddance, right?"

"She can finally learn her place." Stacy, who was still sitting on his laps chimed in, her lips curling into a devious smirk.

"Excuse me?" I furrowed my brows as I tried to grapple with the situation at hand.

"You aren't excused," Karsten retorted, his tone firm and unyielding. "It's good you finally know your place."

"My place?” My forehead crimsoned. “I'm your mate Karsten, for crying out loud. The least you could do was tell me so I could stop weaving dreams of a better future." I blinked rapidly, the sting of unshed tears threatening to overwhelm me. My vision blurred as the first teardrop traced a path down my cheek, a silent betrayal of the pain welling within.

"You didn't deserve to know it." He waved me off dismissively.

"Wait! So, this means that you knew I was your mate when you got the witches to use me as your test subject and got rid of my wolf?" I asked, my voice maintaining a gentle composure, yet beneath the surface, a storm of emotions swirled, almost betraying my calm facade.

"It doesn't matter. Anyways, I've drawn this too long." He said, puffing out air as he moved Stacy off his laps and stood up.

"I have made a decision about my life and this pack. I have decided to—”

Amelia's POV

"Babe, you don't have to give her any justification. She doesn't deserve it." Stacy muttered, placing her hands over his biceps.

He turned to Stacy, looking into her eyes lovingly, "I know she doesn't deserve this. I'm not doing it for her. It's for us. It's for our pack."

Turning back to me and the pack, he announced, "I am taking a chosen mate befitting the position of the Luna of this great pack."

His announcement didn't come as a shocker to me. I sort of expected it, but I thought he'd surprise me. I thought that the mate bond wouldn't be this weak.

Looking at me squarely, he said, "I, Alpha Karsten Shadowcroft of the Blood Moon Pack, reject you, Amelia Holloway as my mate."

My knees buckled after hearing his words, and a sudden weakness spread through my limbs. I clenched my fists, trying to anchor myself against the overwhelming force of the rejection. The air grew heavy, pressing against my chest. I trie