The Tyrant's Lycan Ruined Omega

“I, Scott Redwood, reject Ravenna Holloway as my mate.” The words didn’t just fall; they crashed. For one long, impossible second, the ballroom went dead. The orchestra cut off mid-note. People froze with champagne glasses halfway to their lips. Overhead, the massive crystal chandeliers seemed to sharpen, casting fractured light across a hundred faces that were suddenly very interested in my downfall. My heart just stopped. Finally, Scott looked at me. There wasn’t a shred of regret in those steel-blue eyes. He stood there in a perfectly tailored black suit, looking every bit the future Alpha—calm, collected, and completely untouchable. As if he hadn’t just dismantled my entire life with a single sentence. “Scott…” My voice was a ghost of a sound. He sighed, and it sounded impatient. “You deserve honesty, Ravenna.” Honesty. What a convenient word to hide behind. “You’ve always been kind,” he added, his face a blank mask. “Every council member in this room knows you’re unfit to become Luna.” I heard whispers from other guests. “…He actually did it…” “…Right in front of everyone…” “…God, how embarrassing…” Hundreds of eyes settled on me. Some pitied me. Most looked relieved they weren’t the night’s entertainment. Ciel… No… he’s lying… Run. Please… make him take it back. “I reject your claim,” Scott continued, raising his voice so the council members could hear him clearly. “And I release you from every promise our families arranged.” Warm blood flooded my mouth. A scream echoed in my head. Ciel. She wasn’t howling. I stumbled back, knees cracking against the marble floor. A few people gasped, but no one moved to help. Scott’s expression never changed. “Your wolf will recover,” he said without a trace of sympathy. “The bond will fade.” “I…” My breath was coming in jagged pieces. “Scott… please…” He didn’t budge. “I waited for years,” he said quietly. “I hoped you’d get stronger.” Every word hit harder than the last. “You never did.” My fingers curled against the cold marble. We had grown up together, our engagement given since childhood. He had promised me the world after Greystone Academy, once holding my hand beneath the Moon Festival fireworks. Now, he looked at me like those memories had never existed. “You need someone stronger,” I whispered. “No,” he replied flatly. “I need someone worthy.” The room erupted. Someone actually laughed. “Why?” I whispered, my voice breaking. Scott held my gaze for a long moment before answering. “Because every time I imagine my future…” He paused, his expression unreadable. “You weren’t in it.” I looked up and saw Freya. My older sister was standing next to our father, draped in shimmering silver, a champagne flute balanced perfectly in her hand. She wasn’t laughing out loud. The tiny, cruel smile on her lips said enough. Freya walked past me without a hint of sympathy. She reached up and gently straightened my necklace, her fingertips cool against my skin, as if fixing the appearance of someone who had already been discarded. A small, satisfied smile curved her lips. “You should’ve known.” Then she walked away. Something inside me snapped. I looked toward the council table, searching for my father. Alpha Alistair Holloway. He’d negotiated peace treaties and won wars; he’d stared down rogue Alphas without blinking. Surely he wouldn’t let this happen. Our eyes met. For one heartbeat, I actually thought he’d stand up for me. Instead, he looked away. My mother lowered her head, gripping her glass so hard her knuckles were white. Neither of them spoke. Neither defended me. I was completely alone. Scott turned toward the entrance as a beautiful brunette stepped forward from the crowd. She slid naturally to his side, and he offered his arm. Cameras started flashing. The reporters didn’t care about me; they chased them—the perfect Alpha and his beautiful new partner. I watched him walk away. He didn’t look back once. A servant approached me cautiously. “Lady Ravenna…” I looked at him through a blur of tears. He hesitated, then handed me a small velvet gift box. “Lady Freya asked me to deliver these to Lord Xavier Beckett tomorrow morning.” I stared at the Cartier logo. Even tonight, after all this, I was still expected to run my sister’s errands. A bitter taste settled in my chest. The servant shifted awkwardly. “Should… should I call someone to drive you home, my lady?” I wiped my face before another tear could fall. “No,” I said, my voice sounding strangely calm. “I can still walk.” I stepped out of the ballroom and into the cold night air. Behind me, the laughter drifted through the open doors as if nothing had happened. As if I hadn’t just lost my mate and my family. As if my father hadn’t just chosen silence over his own daughter. I gripped the Cartier box until the edges dug into my palms. Father spent years preparing me for Greystone University through forced debates, etiquette lessons, and exhausting political dinners. To become Scott Redwood’s Luna. Tomorrow, I’ll deliver Freya’s gifts. After that… I’d have to figure out who Ravenna Holloway was without Scott Redwood.