The Rejected Omega's Defiant Second Life

ia's

s vibrated through t

t snaked its way toward the manor. My heart was a dry well. No anticipation. No flutter

Gunner Vance, was

SUV that looked more like a tank,

eme

r. The scent of pine, ozone, and something metallic-the smell of battle-clung to him like a second skin. A scar, a pale white

ped forward, his arms open.

n the back. He then turned to my mother, Clara, offer

or of storm cloud

ve a piece of furniture you don't particularly car

th

expression. I played my part perfectly. The demure, unremarkabl

wolf, protesting his dismissal of me. He suppressed it instantly, a flicker of annoya

a suffoca

ted the strained faces around it. The air was thick with

started, his voice overly hear

His gaze was fixed on the darkness outside the large bay window. His fingers, long and

es. The food was tasteless, like chewi

wn. He dabbed his lips with the linen napkin,

s were still on the window. "I'll be returning to the northern t

' polite s

. They had expected him to stay for days, t

. It was heavy, impersonal, like a

tone leaving no room for argument. "But the wedding will have

ast of my parents' hopeful illusions. It was a

time. My face was not flushed with the shame or hurt he

, when I spoke, was perfectly modula

tand, Alp

ppeared between his brows. This was not the reaction he had anticipated. It wa

in a thick, awkward silence.

adows across the floor. I felt as though I were walking a path th

staring at the canopy above. My

and unforgiving when my maid, T

s Em

p. "Yes

tant. "Alpha Vance's convoy... t

rse, h

word through the mind-link t

. The complete eras

s were being squeezed by an invisible hand, stealing my breath.

silent house, and out the back door. I didn't have a destination. I

, of being nothing, washed

lawns, past the rose gardens, and towar

now where

he path, pulling me forward

me to the