Rejected By The Heir, Claimed By The Supreme Alpha

Florence Barnes POV:

"Luna, it's terrible! Corbin... he ran away!"

My bridesmaid and loyal maid Ruby burst through the heavy oak door of the church dressing room, her eyes red and her voice shaking as my fingers froze over the intricate lace of my wedding gown.

My grip on the lipstick tube tightened until my knuckles turned white, and I dug my fingernails deep into my palm to keep my voice steady.

"Catch your breath first. Who did he run away with?"

Ruby bit her lip, hot tears splashing onto the back of her hand as she let out a furious hiss.

"That wandering Rogue girl named Jesenia Dillon! They drove an off-road vehicle across the territory border overnight!"

A loud buzzing filled my ears, and a bone-deep chill washed over my fragile Omega frame. In our world, genetics dictated hierarchy from birth; as an Omega at the bottom of the pack order, being abandoned at the altar for a packless Rogue was a death sentence for my reputation. Corbin Berger, the adopted Alpha heir of the Shadow Claw Pack, had just trampled my dignity into the dirt in front of the entire pack.

Through the half-open door, the muffled whispers and shameless snickers of the guests in the main hall were already drifting down the corridor.

Ruby rushed forward and grabbed my ice-cold hands, choking on her sobs.

"Miss, let's slip out the back door! Before the Elders come to hold us accountable, we have to leave, or you'll become the laughingstock of the entire Shadow Claw Pack!"

I slowly pulled my hands back from my loyal servant's grasp, staring into the vintage carved mirror at my pale face and the sharp glint hardening in my eyes.

"Leave? The eldest daughter of the Barnes family never tucks her tail and runs."

I stood up abruptly, ripped the heavy veil-a symbol of meek obedience-right off my head, and tossed it onto the dusty carpet. Ignoring Ruby's stunned gasp, I lifted my heavy hem and marched out of the dressing room in my twelve-centimeter heels down the long corridor toward the main hall.

Wall sconces stretched my shadow across the red carpet like a blade. When I pushed open the massive carved doors of the sanctuary, the noisy hall fell dead silent. Hundreds of high-ranking werewolf eyes pinned me to the spot. Pity, mockery, and gloating thickened the air, and several lower-ranked Betas and Omegas didn't even bother hiding their derisive snorts.

I straightened my spine, enduring the probing territorial pressure from all sides, and walked straight down the aisle toward the pure obsidian altar at the front.

Atop the dais stood Dorthy Armstrong, the former Luna of the Shadow Claw Pack. Resting her hands on a rosewood cane, the silver-haired matriarch studied me with sharp gray eyes.

I stopped at the bottom of the steps and lifted my chin.

"Madam Dorthy, is the wedding still going to proceed?"

Gasps rippled through the pews. Carie Campbell, who had married into the Campbell family's senior branch, shot to her feet with a shrill, venomous laugh.

"Are you out of your mind? The groom ran off with a wild woman! Who do you think you're going to marry-the air in this church?"

I didn't spare Carie a single glance. I dug my nails into my palm again, using the sharp sting to anchor myself as I locked eyes with Dorthy.

Dorthy struck the stone floor hard with her cane, the heavy thud silencing the hall before she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Florence, what do you propose?"

I drew a deep breath into my tight chest and spoke clearly enough for every ear in the sanctuary to hear.

"The blood contract between our packs is already signed. Since I am standing here today, I will leave carrying the Campbell name. Since Corbin fled, we simply change the groom."

The hall erupted into chaos. Several Elders exchanged shocked glances, while the young Alphas looked on with wary amusement, terrified of getting dragged into this mess.

Dorthy remained silent for a beat, a flash of approval crossing her aged eyes.

"Well spoken. So long as an unmarried male of the Campbell family is willing, you may take your pick."

Carie's face turned livid, and she immediately shoved her fifteen-year-old son Ari behind her back as if guarding him from a thief.

I turned around, sweeping my gaze across the young Alphas and Betas without pausing on a single face for more than a second. I didn't want a pathetic substitute; I wanted supreme power that would crush Corbin under my heel.

My gaze bypassed the younger generation entirely and locked onto the dark-gold throne in the center of the front row.

Seated there in a tailored jet-black suit was a man with long, powerful legs crossed and slate-blue eyes as cold as a northern glacier. He was Conor Campbell-the billionaire CEO, Chief Magistrate of the Allied Werewolf High Tribunal, supreme Alpha of the Shadow Claw Pack, and Corbin's adoptive father.

Following my gaze, the crowd plunged into a suffocating silence. Braving the terrifying Alpha Dominion that made my knees tremble, I walked up to his throne, stopped three paces away, and raised my finger to point straight at the tip of his nose.

"A father pays his son's debts. Lord Conor, since your adopted son broke his oath, you can fulfill this wedding in his place."

The air froze solid, yet Conor didn't lash out; he simply narrowed his deep slate-blue eyes and tapped his fingers twice against the mahogany armrest.