THE RISE OF THE REJECTED LUNA

CHAPTER FOUR

“You are not going anywhere till you give me what is mine.” Derek’s voice sliced through the air like a whip. The room went dead silent, the kind of silence that makes your ears ring.

I looked around the room, searching for some kind of logic, some kind of sanity in the faces of the people I used to call my pack. My eyes finally landed back on him. On Derek.

“What do you mean?” I asked. My voice sounded small, even to my own ears. I hate that. I hate that he still makes me sound like a victim.

His face was a mask of rage. He looked like a volcano seconds away from burying everything in ash. He took a step toward me, his brows furrowing.

He was annoyed. Annoyed that I was even questioning him.

“You have to return all the privileges you enjoyed while being the Luna of this pack,” he grunted. His lips curled in total disdain, as if the very word "Luna" in reference to me was a sin.

A wave of nausea hit me. Hard.

The air in the room felt suffocating. My face drained of color, but his expression stayed flat and cold. He didn't care that he was ripping the rug out from under me.

My stomach dropped. The cruelty in his words... it was like he was systematically erasing every year I’d spent by his side. Every sacrifice I’d made for a pack that now looked at me like I was a virus.

I swallowed hard. I could feel my jaw tightening, my muscles locking up. I knew my eyes looked wounded, but I didn't want them to. I wanted them to look like daggers. Let them pierce deep into his bloody soul.

I clenched my teeth, my hand flying to my chest. I literally had to knead the skin there just to remind myself to breathe. The pain was so sharp, it was taking every single thing in me to not fall apart.

“Privileges?” I finally blurted out.

The tears were coming now. I couldn't even stop them anymore if I tried. They streamed down my face, but I didn't wipe them away.

“Privileges, Derek?” I repeated. My lips curled with a disgust that mirrored his. He just stood there, waiting for me to break. Waiting for me to beg.

He was waiting for an answer I wasn't going to give him. Because it was over my dead body that I'd give him the satisfaction of seeing me on my knees. Begging for what he wouldn't even give.

His words stung, yeah. They burned like salt in a fresh cut. But I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of watching me break into pieces.

“You are nothing without me, Derek,” I said, my voice shallow but steady. I gritted my teeth, forcing the words out through the pain. “You think you’re the king? You’re just a man in a crown I helped you build. Take it or leave it, but no matter how much you try, you can't change the bloody truth.”

His face contracted. He hissed in shock, his ego taking a direct hit.

“How dare you talk to me like that, you filthy peasant,” he sneered. I could see the irritation flashing in his eyes. He hated that I wasn't kneeling.

Fine. He wanted his "privileges" back? He could have them.

I reached for my neck, my fingers trembling as I unlatched the gold chain. The necklace hit the floor with a pathetic clink.

“That was my wedding present,” I spat, the words tasting like poison.

Then came the earrings. I ripped them out, the sting in my lobes barely registering compared to the fire in my chest. “And my birthday present, too.”

I wasn't done. I kicked off the designer shoes he’d bought for some gala I never wanted to go to.

“Go on,” I challenged, my voice rising. “I’m sure you remember this dress. You bought this for me, too. There. Take it all.”

I stood there, feeling exposed but more powerful than I had in years. I wasn't his Luna. I wasn't his wife. I was just Arabella.

“I’m not your wife anymore,” I whispered, the realization finally hitting me.

I looked down at my hand. The ring. The diamond was huge and heavy and felt like a shackle. I twisted it off, my skin raw from how hard I pulled. I threw it at his feet.

“Satisfied?”

I didn't wait for him to answer.

“You can leave. All of you. Marrying you was the biggest regret of my life, Derek.”

I turned my gaze to the side, where Jessica was standing, watching the drama with that pathetic, smug look on her face.

“And you, Jessica?” I let out a dry, hollow laugh. “I hope you enjoy picking up my trash. He’s all yours.”

I turned to walk away, my heart hammering against my ribs. But then I stopped. I felt it. The pull. That agonizing tether that made my soul beg for me to turn around and run into his arms.

Into the arms of the same man who'd choose another over me, over and over? How could I?

This was hell. He was supposed to be mine. My mate. My husband. My forever. My everything.

How could he just have chosen some random slut instead of me?

Sure, I'd put on that tough front a few seconds ago, but it didn't change the truth. It hurt, and it hurt so bad. It was rapidly eating me alive from the inside.

And what was worse? There wasn't a single thing I could do about it.

I tried willing myself to take another step. To break away from him completely. But my body wasn't complying. I couldn't feel my wolf whimpering inside me.

Not being able to help it, I looked back at him with my tear-stained face, my voice actually breaking for real this time.

“Is this really the end of us, Derek? You were supposed to be my forever mate.”.