Pregnant and Rejected—Now the Lycan King Calls Me Queen

Mud coated my tongue. Copper. Ash. A heavy boot ground my cheek deeper into the sludge. I coughed, spitting grit over my cracked lips, and instantly curled both hands over my swollen belly. Eight months. Rain battered the Bloodmoon Pack square, pooling around my knees. Freezing water slashed against my spine. Hundreds of wolves boxed me in. Heavy, wet breaths plumed in the chill air. Faint yellow and green eyes pricked through the downpour, tracking my movements. Nobody flinched. An Omega bleeding in the dirt held no value. I dragged my chin out of the muck. Silver-blonde hair stuck flat against my skull. Water stung my lashes. I blinked the blur away, focusing on the polished leather shoes inches from my fingers, and the man standing above them. Alpha Kaelen. A trembling servant held a wide black umbrella over his head. Kaelen's charcoal suit remained bone-dry. He stared down at me. The muscle in his jaw ticked. His upper lip curled, exposing a flash of a white canine. Selene hung off his bicep. Dark hair spilled over her silk shawl. She chewed her red lower lip and pressed her weight fully into Kaelen's side. "Kaelen, she's making a mess." Selene rubbed her arms, shivering against the chill. "Get it over with. Her smell makes my stomach turn." Kaelen patted her knuckles. "Patience. The pack needs to see what happens to leeches." He shifted his stance. The heel of his shoe sank into the mud. I kept my hands clamped over my stomach. A frantic thump kicked against my palm. "Elara Vance." A low, vibrating hum layered beneath Kaelen's voice. The command. "You stand before the Bloodmoon Pack accused of deception." My teeth ground together. The command dropped onto my shoulders like dead weight, forcing my chin down. I locked my knees. I dragged a sharp breath through my teeth and straightened my spine. Two years of kneeling. Two years of lowering my eyes. A sudden kick against my ribs erased it all. Kaelen's nostrils flared. "Look at her!" He stabbed a finger toward my stomach. "An Omega carrying a mongrel. You expect me to believe that thing is mine? She spreads her legs for rogues at the border and crawls back for protection." Low growls rumbled from the ring of wolves. My throat hitched. A harsh, wet sound escaped me. For two years, I hadn't crossed the pack house threshold without two armed guards trailing my shadow. I held his gaze. He needed the crowd. He needed the grand rejection to mask the rot in his own head—the shame of finding his fated mate in the lowest rank of his pack. "Speak, Omega!" Kaelen shoved the umbrella handle into Selene's chest. He marched into the downpour, wrapped his fist in my wet hair, and yanked. My neck snapped back. "Defend your bastard." Scalp tearing, I kept my eyes pinned on his. I didn't blink. "Get it over with, Kaelen." My voice scraped out of my throat. "Do it." He released me with a violent shove. I slumped forward, catching myself on my bloody palms. Kaelen squared his shoulders. He dragged in a sharp breath. The air pressure in the square plummeted, popping my ears. "I, Alpha Kaelen of the Bloodmoon Pack, invoke my ancient right." The words cracked over the thunder. "I reject Elara Vance as my fated mate. I sever the bond. I cast her out." Something inside my chest violently ruptured. Muscle and marrow peeled apart. A scream tore past my lips, tearing my vocal cords. Fire erupted behind my sternum. I ripped at the wet fabric of my dress collar. The flesh over my heart blistered. Raindrops hissed against my collarbone, vaporizing on contact. A jagged scar gouged its way into my skin. I tipped sideways into the mud. I curled my knees up, panting, arms locked around my stomach. The heat evaporated. Ice replaced it. Frost flooded my veins, originating from the raw edges of the scar. My teeth cracked against each other. I cracked my eyes open. Thin, ink-black veins branched upward from my chest, crawling over my collarbones and up my neck. The Rot. Boots squelched in the mud. The front line of wolves shuffled backward. Whispers broke the silence. They knew the black veins. The decay of a pregnant Omega's life force after a severed bond. White mist plumed from my lips. The cold burrowed deeper, sinking toward my pelvis. I dug my fingers into my stomach. Deep beneath the muscle, a faint heat pulsed. A tiny flutter of warmth pushing back against the frost. The resistance sucked the remaining strength from my limbs. "The Rot takes the weak." Kaelen stared at the black lines marking my throat. He swiped the rain from his jaw and turned around. "She is no longer of the Bloodmoon Pack. She is a rogue." He pointed toward the rusted iron gates at the edge of the compound. The boundary line to the neutral territories. Wind whipped through the bars, carrying the scent of pine and dead earth. "Throw her out." Kaelen raised his voice. "If anyone offers her a blanket, a crumb of bread, or a quick death, I'll string their guts across the border line." Selene laced her fingers through his. She stepped over my boots, her heels clicking against the stones as they headed for the main house. Heavy boots stomped through the slush. Two Bloodmoon trackers grabbed me under the armpits. They hauled me up. Black spots peppered my vision. My boots dragged through the mud, carving twin trenches in the earth. Not a single wolf moved to block the path. The iron gates swung open. One of the trackers twisted his fist into the fabric between my shoulder blades. He shoved. I hit the frozen earth. Lungs emptied. I tucked my chin, rolling hard onto my shoulder, keeping my stomach clear of the rocks. Gravel tore the skin off my palms. Metal screamed. The iron gates slammed shut. A heavy deadbolt slid into place. I lay on the jagged rocks. The black veins pulsed against my throat. Cold gnawed at my wet clothes. I drove my bleeding fingers into the dirt and pushed up. My arms shook violently. I dragged one knee under my swollen belly. A sharp snap echoed from the tree line. A low, wet growl vibrated through the brush. Yellow eyes flared in the dark gaps between the pines. One pair. Three. Five. The lead wolf lunged from the shadows, jaws snapping for my throat. I threw my arms up.