Rejected Luna: Desired by the Lycan King

Chapter 6

"Elena! Oh, thank goodness you're okay!" Eliana squealed, her face instantly morphing into a mask of pure relief as she took a dramatic step toward me.

"Where have you been? Mom and Dad have been frantic! We sent you so many texts, did you even see them? Why didn't you reply to us?"

I stood completely still, watching her performance with a wave of absolute disgust. The raw hypocrisy of it was suffocating.

Just hours ago, she was texting me from the hospital calling me a street rat and bragging about Caleb staying the night in her room. Now, in front of the boutique attendants and our mother, she was the doting, worried sister.

As Eliana lunged forward to wrap her arms around me in a fake embrace, my instincts flared. "Don't touch me," I snapped, raising a hand and shoving her back before she could even graze my robe.

Eliana stumbled backward, her eyes widening in shocked hurt as she let out a soft, pathetic gasp.

"Elena! What is wrong with you?!" my mother roared, marching forward and grabbing Eliana’s arm to steady her. She glared at me, her eyes flashing with pure venom.

"Your sister has been worried sick about you all morning despite what you did to her, and you treat her like this? You are a thoroughly ungrateful, vicious girl!"

I didn't even bother answering her. I turned my back on both of them and faced the shop attendant, who was watching the family drama unfold with wide, uncomfortable eyes. I pulled King Vardis’s solid gold card from my pocket and held it out. "I'll take the black dress. Pack it up."

The attendant gasped when she saw the card. It wasn't a standard pack credit card; it was heavy, unblemished gold, stamped with the unmistakable royal crest of the Lycan capital.

My mother’s eyes locked onto the card, her brows furrowing in suspicion. "Where did you get that, Elena? Your father blocked your pack accounts the moment Caleb rejected you. Where did you get that kind of money?"

Eliana peered over my mother's shoulder, her eyes lighting up with malicious realization. "Oh no... Elena, tell me you didn't," she whimpered, covering her mouth. She looked at our mother with a horrified expression.

"Mom, it’s my fault. I didn't give her any of my allowance before she left. Elena has stooped to stealing... she must have pickpocketed someone !"

Eliana reached out, her fingers clawing toward my hand to snatch the card away.

"Elena, stop this right now! Give it to me. We won't call the authorities, I promise. If you just return it and come home right now, Mom and Dad will forgive you. Even Caleb will find it in his heart to overlook this if you just apologize!"

I yanked my hand back fiercely, stepping out of her reach.

"I didn't steal a damn thing, Eliana. Keep your filthy hands off me."

"Then explain the card, Elena!" my mother demanded, her voice rising in pitch. "You have no job, no pack backing, and no mate. How do you have a royal gold card?"

Eliana trailed off, looking at my mother with a deeply calculated, sorrowful expression.

"Mom... what if... what if Elena didn't steal it? What if she... sold her body to some rich man out there just to get the money? She was desperate after Caleb rejected her..."

Before the sentence even fully left Eliana's mouth, a sharp, deafening *CRACK* echoed through the quiet boutique.

My head snapped to the side, my cheek burning with an explosive, stinging pain. My mother had stepped across the space and slapped me across the face with all her strength.

"You absolute disgrace!" my mother hissed, her breathing heavy, her face contorted in utter shame as she looked around at the staring boutique attendants.

"You have no boundaries, do you? No shame! To sell yourself like a common alley wolf just to buy a dress? I am completely embarrassed to have given birth to such an animal. I am ashamed to be your mother!"

The burning on my cheek was nothing compared to the cold, dead sensation settling over my heart. The last remaining tether to my biological family snapped cleanly in two.

I slowly turned my head back, looking at the woman who had given birth to me, and then at the sister who had systematically destroyed my life.

I let out a long, quiet sigh. The pain was gone. There was only an empty, beautiful clarity.

"Don't worry," I said, my voice eerily calm, devoid of a single trace of tears. "You don't have to be ashamed. Because you aren't my mother. And she isn't my sister."

I turned to Clara, the personal assistant the king had assigned to me, who had been standing silently in the shadows near the entrance. I held the golden card out to her. Clara hesitated for a split second, sensing the explosive tension in the room, but she stepped forward, took the card, and handed it directly to the cashier.

The cashier swiftly swiped it. The machine chimed instantly, approving the massive transaction without a single delay. The attendant hurriedly packed the midnight-black gown into a luxury garment bag and handed it over to Clara.

I turned to leave the store, but Eliana, seeing her scene falling apart, burst into fresh, hysterical tears. She lunged forward, grabbing my wrist tightly. "Elena, please! It's all my fault! Don't hate Mom, hate me! I'm sorry!"

I violently yanked my wrist from her grip, looking down at her with pure, unadulterated coldness.

"You can stop pretending, Eliana," I said, my voice echoing clearly in the elite boutique.

"Look around you. This isn't the pack grounds. There isn't a crowd of easily fooled wolves here to give you an audience. It's just a few attendants, and they don't care about your tears. Save your breath."

I turned and walked toward the glass exit doors.

"Elena!" my mother screamed after me, her voice shaking with rage and wounded pride.

"If you walk out of those doors right now, you are no longer my daughter! Do you hear me? You will never be allowed back into our home!"

I paused at the threshold, the cool air of the automatic doors brushing against my face. I didn't turn around. I didn't need to look at them ever again.

"I don't have a mother," I said to the glass doors, my voice carrying back to them like a chilling winter wind. "I don't have a sister, a brother, or a father. In fact, as of today, I'm an orphan."