The Rejected Omega's Defiant Second Life

ia's

ns and dark, tailored suits. Chandeliers dripped crystals like frozen t

mother's arm,

lked. Clara had insisted I wear my silver-white hair up, woven

s in the grass. I could feel their eyes on me, their thoughts a cacophony of pi

and accepted a flute of champagne from a passing server.

g, detached herself from a

n Goddess herself decided to grace us with her presence. If Alpha G

ll, placid smile. "

shift occurred at the grand entrance. The amb

er Vance h

it was impeccably tailored, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders. He com

s the crowd, a king

his eyes

sto

ing in their stormy depths-surprise, confusion, and a spark of raw, masculine appreciation. The

against my skin. In my past life, it would ha

eliberately, looked away. I turned my attention back to

r above his eye seemed to darken. Being ignored, I knew, was a

of effortless grac

nd Sin

ittering room. She looped her arm through Gunner's, a gesture of casual, confident ownership. They st

them, an involuntary,

way he loo

of something I had never, ever received. A fo

mories flooded back-the sting of his rejection, the endless nights I'd spent alone

ampagne flute in my hand trembled, th

o

It's over, Emelia, I told myself, the words a silent ma

o warm, too thick with perfume and polit

ing my way toward the far side of the ballroom,

on the promise of cool night air, de

sure, this was just another game. A damsel's retreat, designed to l

smile perfect and serene. "Miss Day looks as though she hasn't quite recovered,

d nerves. I leaned against the stone balustrade, breathi

? Are you

ured, and immediately set

tood there, a pictu

only ask," she said, her tone a car

ife. The perfect lady, extending a hand of "friendship" that

lair," I replied, my voice even. "I'm

easantries. She soon excused herself, gliding back in

e balustrade. The pain in my chest was real, a dull, fam

ousy. No

so

onsumed by that poison. This life w