Chapter 2 : Night of Rejection

Lyra’s POV

The scent of roasted meat and wine drifted through the banquet hall, mixing with laughter and perfume and polished wood. Lyra moved silently through the glittering crowd, head down, arms aching from scrubbing since dawn.

Today was her eighteenth birthday.

No one knew. No one cared.

She gathered empty goblets and crumpled napkins, careful not to let her hands shake. She told herself it was just another night. Just another mask to wear until it was safe to disappear again.

But beneath her ribs, her heart thudded louder than the music.

“Happy birthday, Lyra,” came the soft voice in her mind. Familiar now. Steady.

Thalia.

Her wolf’s voice had grown stronger lately, like a whisper slowly turning into a song.

“Thank you,” Lyra whispered silently, her breath catching. “ You’re really here. With me.”

“I’ve always been here,” Thalia replied gently. “Even when you forgot how to hear me.”

Lyra blinked hard, her throat tightening. In the crowd, she caught sight of the Alpha’s family - Caden, Regina, Seraphine. And.. Aiden.

Her stomach twisted.

Tall, composed, golden like his father but sharper, crueler now. He was laughing with his friends, drink in hand, head tilted as a girl leaned into him. His smile wasn’t for her. Not anymore.

She looked away. Kept moving. Until the moment it hit her. A scent. Wild, earthy, and electric. Rain on stone. Cedar and fire.

It wrapped around her like a thread, pulling her toward the one person she could never reach. Her breath caught in her throat.

Her hands went cold.

Mate.

Thalia’s voice was sharp now, urgent. “Lyra-”

“I feel it,” she whispered. “It’s him.”

Aiden turned. Their eyes met. And the bond snapped into place. A pulse. A flash. A silent explosion inside her.

She stepped forward, heart racing, pulled toward him like a tide.

His lips parted. For a moment - just a moment - his eyes widened. Something flickered there. Recognition. Awe.

Then, coldness.

Revulsion.

He straightened slowly, his face unreadable, then curled his lip like she’d just stepped in front of royalty with mud on her shoes.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Aiden said loudly, his voice slicing through the noise. “An Omega? You think you’re my mate?”

The music died. The crowd hushed. Heat flooded Lyra’s face. She took a trembling step back.

“Aiden…” she whispered. “The bond - don’t you feel it?”

He laughed. Laughed.

So did Seraphine.

“You’re nothing,” he said, voice like ice. “I reject you, Lyra. I reject the bond. I want nothing to do with you.”

The words crashed over her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“No…” she choked. “You can’t-”

But the bond recoiled inside her like a wounded animal. She felt it tear. Felt Thalia cry out inside her mind, a sharp snap of pain.

And then came the laughter. Seraphine stepped in front of her, smirking. “Did you really think he’d accept you? You’re a servant. A stain.”

Lyra shook her head slowly, trembling. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you dared to hope,” Seraphine said. “And hope is for those who belong.”

Her hand flashed out, slapping Lyra hard across the face. Lyra staggered but didn’t fall.

The crowd didn’t stop her. No one did. No one ever did.

Thalia’s voice was faint. “Stay with me.”

But Lyra felt like glass - cracked, hollow, too fragile to keep standing.

Seraphine’s friends surrounded her like vultures. They dragged her through the back of the hall, out into the cold garden. Her shoes scraped over the gravel, her dress catching on the stones. Still, no one stopped them.

“You thought he’d love you,” Seraphine mocked, yanking Lyra’s head back by her hair. “Let’s make sure you remember this night.”

A silver blade flashed.

Pain bloomed across her arm. Burning. Biting.

“Stop!” Lyra gasped.

Another cut. Her skin seared like fire, the metal hissing as it tore her open.

“Maybe now you’ll remember your place,” Seraphine whispered, pressing the blade again, deeper this time.

Lyra collapsed, sobbing silently, curling in on herself.

“Thalia…”

“I’m here,” came the whisper. “You’re not alone.”

But Lyra was slipping.

They left her bleeding in the dirt, the night pressing down like a coffin lid. She heard them walk away, their laughter fading behind her.

The moon was full above, silver and distant. She closed her eyes, and all she could see was Aiden’s face.

You’re nothing.

Her blood soaked into the earth.

She stopped fighting.

But just before the darkness swallowed her, a new scent drifted through the air - clean, wild, powerful.

Lavender. Smoke. Something ancient and dangerous.

Someone was coming.

And everything was about to change.