He Rejected the Omega, Now He Must Kneel Before the Empress

Winter had silvered the palace gardens. I had gone out alone in a plain gray gown, the sort I wore when I wanted an hour without attendants or court jewels. The moonlight silk was warm enough for the cold, and beneath it the child inside me shifted against my palm. For once, the garden was quiet. "Gods, look what the ice spit out," a rough voice jeered from the outer gate. I stopped. Four years had passed, but I knew the voices of Caleb’s pack guards. My former mate came through the archway with his best wolves in polished winter armor behind him. Selena hung on his arm, one hand spread across her swollen belly. She smiled when she saw me and leaned closer to him so there could be no mistake about the place she had taken. Caleb’s hand rose halfway toward my cloak. Once, he would have pulled it closed whenever the wind picked up. Selena noticed. His hand dropped, and he gave me the same pitying smile he had worn at my exile. “Elara. I knew you’d come crawling back to the capital.” His guards snickered. “Crawling is right, Alpha. Look at the state of her. Those rags look like they’ll fall apart in the next breeze.” I glanced down at my gown. Kaelen had commissioned the cloth from the rarest moon-moths in the empire. Caleb’s whole treasury could not have paid for it. The guards saw gray cloth and worn slippers. That was enough for them. Selena lifted her chin. A silver crescent veil was pinned into her carefully arranged hair. Five winters ago, I had sketched every curve of that design on a napkin while Caleb sat across from me and promised I would wear it as his Luna. She had kept the design. He had given it to her. “Still alive, I see.” Selena covered her nose with two fingers. “Caleb is too kind. If you’re desperate for work, you can wash my feet. We might even find you a tent near the kennels. That is more than a defective Omega deserves.” Four years ago, those words would have put me on my knees. Now I wondered whether she had rehearsed them on the road. Caleb spread his hand over Selena’s stomach. “Be generous, my love. She’s had a hard time.” He waited for gratitude as though he had already rescued me. “You always hated the cold, Elara. You were never strong enough for it. Come back to the pack. Selena needs a handmaiden to serve her and our heir.” Serve his heir? A small heel pressed beneath my ribs. I covered the spot and looked past Caleb to the lit windows of my husband’s palace. “Serve your heir?” I asked. “Are you certain you’ll live to see him born?” Caleb’s jaw tightened. Two guards shifted forward. Selena ignored the threat. Her attention had caught on the dark-gold brooch pinned at my collar, and her hand rose toward it.