CHAPTER TWO

The rejection

Seraphina's POV

"Seraphina," Freya's cold, sharp voice echoed across the room, sending an icy chill down my spine. "How many times must I remind you? Finish your tasks before even thinking of resting."

I froze, staring down at the floor as fear surged through me. Lyra, perched on the couch, barely glanced up from her phone, indifferent to my plight.

"I'm beginning to think I've been far too lenient with you," Freya continued, her tone growing more venomous. "You've grown lazy."

"I’m sorry,” I stammered, my voice trembling. “I’ve been working, but there’s so much to do. I couldn’t—”

Before I could finish, her hand shot out, gripping my hair. Pain seared through my scalp as she yanked me forward, dragging me toward the dark room—a place of punishment, where days passed without food, water, or light.

"Please!" I begged, my voice breaking, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. Freya flung the door open and shoved me onto the cold, hard floor.

"Stay here until you understand the gravity of your incompetence," she spat, before slamming the door shut. The sound of the lock turning echoed in the suffocating silence.

I curled into myself, the icy floor biting into my skin as despair settled over me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, unchecked. Today, my protector, Jon, the only one who ever cared enough to shield me from this cruelty, was nowhere to be found.

My name is Seraphina. I have no family, no home to call my own. I was abandoned in the forest at the age of two and found by the Darkmoors, an influential family who masqueraded their cruelty as charity. They didn’t raise me as one of them—I became their servant, their scapegoat, their slave.

Hours crawled by before the door creaked open, and Lyra stood there, her expression unreadable.

"Come out," she said flatly. "I talked to Mom. You’re lucky—she’s letting you out because we need to prepare for the gala."

I nodded, swallowing the knot in my throat. “Thank you,” I whispered, though I knew her act of mercy wasn’t for my sake. My gratitude felt hollow, but I forced myself to stand, stepping out of the darkness and back into servitude.

Minutes later, I stood in front of a mirror in Lyra’s room, adjusting the borrowed crimson dress. The velvet clung to my body, revealing more of me than I was used to—my cleavage, my thighs. It felt like wearing someone else’s life, someone braver, bolder. My fingers traced the hem nervously, my reflection unfamiliar.

“It’s strange,” I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Lyra appeared behind me, her emerald gown shimmering as she smiled warmly. “You look beautiful, Seraphina,” she said. Her tone was kind, but her words held an edge I couldn’t ignore. “You should dress like this more often. Maybe the other girls will stop bullying you. Who knows? You might even manage to catch someone’s eye.”

I forced a smile, ignoring the sinking weight in my stomach. She meant well, but if she knew—if she knew I loved Lucian, the Alpha son—her words would cut deeper.

“Let’s go,” I said softly, gathering my courage. “We don’t want to be late.”

Descending the grand staircase, I trailed behind Lyra, keeping my head low. The chandeliers cast dazzling light across the room, making Lyra’s gown sparkle. She looked every bit the confident, graceful woman I wasn’t.

At the bottom of the stairs, her mother, Freya, stood waiting, her sharp eyes cutting into me like knives.

“I can’t believe you let her wear one of your dresses,” Freya muttered to Lyra, loud enough for me to hear.

“She didn’t have anything suitable, Mother,” Lyra replied lightly, her tone unbothered. “I couldn’t let her attend looking… shabby.”

Their words stung, but I swallowed the bitterness and held my head high—at least as high as I could manage.

The sound of the doorbell startled me, and I quickly went to open it. My breath caught as Lucian stood there, tall and commanding. His golden eyes flicked over me briefly, then a dismissive smile curled his lips.

“Hello,” he said coolly before stepping inside.

I followed silently as he greeted Lyra, warmth lighting his features in a way I’d never seen directed at me.

“You look stunning,” he told her, his voice soft and intimate, before he pressed a kiss to her lips.

My heart shattered at that moment, the pain blooming in my chest like a fresh wound. Were they together? The truth hit me like a slap, cruel and unforgiving.

The gala was a spectacle of wealth and power: glittering chandeliers, polished marble floors, and wolves dressed in their finest. As soon as we arrived, Lucian and Lyra disappeared into the crowd, leaving me alone in the suffocating grandeur.

I made my way to the bar, my pulse racing. “A drink, please,” I whispered to the bartender.

The burn of alcohol offered little comfort, but I downed the glass anyway, hoping it would dull the ache.

“Hey, beautiful,” came an unfamiliar voice. I turned to see a man. He was tall, with piercing blue eyes, a strong jawline, and an effortlessly captivating presence.

“Not in the mood,” I muttered, dismissing him.

But then, a scent hit me—rich, intoxicating, like warm amber and forest pine. My wolf stirred within me, and Sable’s voice echoed in my mind.

Mate. Mate.

My body moved on its own, drawn by the pull of that scent. It led me through the crowd and into a quiet corridor. My hand trembled as I reached for the door handle.

I pushed it open, and the world crumbled.

Lucian stood behind Lyra, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her. Their moans filled the air, raw and intimate. But it was his eyes—those golden eyes—that locked onto mine.

For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to freeze. Then his gaze hardened, cold and deliberate, delivering the final blow.

“I reject you,” his eyes seemed to say.

The door slammed shut behind me as I stumbled back, my chest heaving with pain. My wolf howled in anguish, her cries echoing in my mind.

What had I been thinking? That Lucian would accept me because fate demanded it? He was the Alpha’s son. I was nothing.

I returned to the bar, my voice trembling as I ordered the strongest drink they had. The alcohol burned, but it wasn’t enough to numb the pain clawing at my chest.

Darkness crept in, pulling me under. The world tilted, and I let go, letting the void take me whole.