Marked By The Lycan King, Betrayed By Fate

CHAPTER 30

(Selene’s POV)

"You are such a shameless b***h," Dexton hissed, his nostrils flaring as his eyes darkened in rage. His jaw clenched so tightly I swore I heard the crack of his teeth grinding together. "You reek of him."

I smirked, tilting my head to the side. "And?"

His fists clenched at his sides, his breathing ragged as his sharp gaze burned into me. "Tell me it’s not true," he spat. "Tell me you didn’t let him mark you."

I raised my hand to my neck, deliberately tracing the fresh mark Lucian had left there, letting my fingers linger on the bruised skin. "What if I did?" My voice was laced with mockery. "Are you upset, Dexton?"

His face twisted in disgust, his entire body trembling. "You… you became his mate?" His voice cracked, disbelief thick in his tone.

I took a step forward, watching the horror etch itself deeper into his face. "Not just his mate," I said, my voice dripping with satisfaction. "I am living here from now on. As his queen."

Dexton staggered back, shaking his head violently. "That doesn’t make sense! He’s my father, Selene!" His voice turned desperate, as if saying it out loud would somehow change reality. "That would make you—"

"Your mother," I finished, a slow, wicked smile spreading across my lips.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Dexton’s lips parted, but no words came out. His entire body tensed as if he might be sick. He looked at me like I was something vile, something unnatural. And maybe, in his eyes, I was.

"No," he finally breathed, shaking his head in refusal. "No, no, no! This is insane!"

"Is it?" I arched a brow, my arms crossing over my chest. "Or is it just karma, Dexton? For rejecting me? For throwing me away like trash for an omega?"

His expression twisted with anger. "You don’t belong here!" His voice was laced with venom. "You don’t deserve to be here! You’re just a lowly she-alpha who was pathetic enough to be rejected!"

My smirk widened. "And yet, here I am," I taunted. "Marked by the King Lycan himself. Your father."

Dexton let out a growl of frustration before stepping forward, his towering frame radiating pure fury. "Get out," he snarled. "You don’t deserve to step foot in this house."

Harper, who had been silent up until now, stepped between us. "Watch your tone, Dexton," he warned. "You’re speaking to your queen."

"She is not my queen!" Dexton roared, his chest rising and falling heavily.

I let out a soft chuckle, stepping closer until we were only inches apart. "Then let me remind you of something, dear son," I said sweetly. "This ‘lowly she-alpha’ you’re insulting is now your king’s mate. Which means you will watch your attitude and your mouth when speaking to me."

His face contorted with unfiltered disgust, his body trembling as if the very thought of it repulsed him. "I will never accept you," he spat. "Not as my queen. Not as my father’s mate. And sure as hell not as my mother."

My eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Oh, but you don’t have a choice, Dexton."

His hands balled into fists, his fury evident in every breath he took. "You’re just a power-hungry w***e," he sneered. "You think you’ve won because you crawled into his bed? You think you can replace what we have—what I have with him?"

I laughed then, a low, dangerous sound. "Oh, Dexton," I whispered, leaning in just enough for him to feel the warmth of my breath against his skin. "You have no idea what I can do."

His eyes flashed with something primal, something filled with hatred. "You will regret this," he swore. "I will make sure of it."

I tilted my head. "Regret?" I echoed. "Oh, no. Regret is what you’ll feel, Dexton. You rejected me. You threw me away. Now, you will watch as I take everything from you."

His chest rose and fell erratically, his body trembling with rage.

I turned to Harper. "Bring in all my belongings," I ordered coolly.

Harper nodded, already moving to obey.

I started to walk past Dexton, dismissing him entirely. But before I could take another step, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist with bruising force.

"Don’t you dare turn your back on me!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall.

My eyes snapped to his, dark and unyielding.

Then, without hesitation, I ripped my hand free and struck him across the face.

The sharp crack of my palm meeting his cheek echoed in the room, and he staggered back, stunned.

"Don’t ever put your hands on me again," I said, my voice cold as ice. "That is no way for a child to behave toward his mother."

Dexton’s eyes burned with fury, his lips curling into a snarl. "You are not my mother!"

I smirked, leaning in just enough to whisper, "Oh, but I am, son."

The look of sheer revulsion on his face was the most satisfying thing I had ever seen.