Claiming Slave Omega as My Luna

Lina‘s POV

"I, Grant Davidson, Alpha of the Aurora Pack, reject you, Lina Ashley, as my mate and Luna of this pack."

Grant's words echoed through the clearing, piercing my heart like daggers of ice. Every wolf present for what should have been our mating ceremony heard his rejection—witnessed my complete humiliation. His voice carried no emotion, no regret—nothing like the tender whispers he'd shared three years ago when we would sneak away to the moonlit clearing.

Hot tears cascaded down my cheeks only to freeze against my skin in the cruel northern wind. My chest heaved with silent sobs as despair crushed me from within. Why did the Moon Goddess despise me with such vehemence?

Three years ago, my world shattered in a single night. I'd spent the day with Grant at our secret spot by the frozen lake, his kisses warming me despite the winter chill. "When you become Luna," he'd whispered against my hair, "I'll make sure you never feel cold again."

But when I returned home that evening, the metallic scent of blood hit me before I even opened our pack house door. The memory still haunts my nightmares—my father's powerful body crumpled on the floor, my mother's gentle hands reaching toward him, their blood painting the walls in grotesque patterns.

"No, no, NO!" My screams had echoed through the halls as I collapsed beside them, my white dress soaking red with their blood as I desperately tried to wake them. "Mom! Dad! Please don't leave me!"

That's when Alexander Davidson—my father's trusted Beta and Grant's father—stormed in with guards, his face twisted in mock horror. "Here is the crime! She's covered in their blood!" he shouted, his finger pointed at me like a weapon. "She killed them for power!"

"What? No!" I'd scrambled backward, my blood-soaked hands raised in defense. "I just got home! I was with Grant all day—tell them, Grant!"

Grant stepped from behind his father, his eyes—the same eyes that had gazed at me with apparent adoration hours earlier—now cold as the Arctic winter. He looked at my blood-covered form with revulsion.

"I haven't seen Lina all day," he stated, each word a dagger to my heart. "I was hunting with my father."

"Grant, please," I'd begged, my voice breaking as tears mixed with the blood on my face. "You know that's not true. We were together at the lake. You promised me—"

"Silence!" Alexander had roared. "Your lies won't save you now, murderer."

By midnight, they'd performed a ritual to seal my shifting abilities. I still remember the searing pain as they forced the binding potion down my throat, the way my wolf howled in agony as she was chained within me. They stripped me of my status and branded me Omega while Alexander claimed my father's position.

And Grant? He stood there watching it all, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when no one but I could see. For the others, he maintained a mask of disappointment, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear: "I never thought she could fall so far！"

Three years of servitude and abuse later, this public rejection was merely the final act in a play he'd been directing since the night my parents died.

I forced my trembling lips to move, desperate to accept the rejection with the last shreds of my dignity. But before a single word escaped, Grant's hand shot forward, his fingers closing around my throat like a steel trap. My eyes bulged in terror as his grip tightened, crushing my windpipe.

"Bitch," he snarled, his eyes flashing red as his wolf came forward. "I am your Alpha, and you will do as I command. After the celebration, I'm sending you where you belong."

His hand tightened, cutting off my air. Black spots danced across my vision as he leaned close, his breath hot against my ear. "Did you really think I would mate with the pack's Omega? A murderer?"

With a contemptuous flick of his wrist, he slapped me hard across the face and threw me into the snow. I gasped, desperately pulling frozen air into my burning lungs. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

He's going to kill us! Snow, my wolf, howled in pain inside my mind. Her voice, once strong and confident, now trembled with weakness. Though they'd stolen my ability to shift, they couldn't completely sever the connection between us.

I curled into myself on the frozen ground, my body convulsing as waves of Snow's agony crashed through our shared consciousness. Each breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. My vision blurred as tears and blood mingled, dripping from my face onto the pristine snow beneath me.

"Look at the rejected Luna," a sickeningly sweet voice called out.

I didn't need to look up to know who it was. Felina, the current Beta's daughter and soon-to-be Luna, stood over me with her entourage. Her pale blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, her body showcased in an ice-blue dress with a thigh-high slit—the dress she'd chosen for her coronation as Luna.

"Did you really think Grant would choose you over me?" she sneered, crouching down to grab a fistful of my hair. She yanked my head back, forcing me to look at her. "You're nothing but an Omega whore who killed her own parents."

I remained silent, my body instinctively curling inward though my pride screamed to fight back. Three years of abuse had taught me the brutal calculus of survival: resistance meant more pain, more humiliation.

"Hold her," Felina commanded, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. Her followers grabbed my arms with bruising force, wrenching them behind my back until my shoulders threatened to dislocate. They forced me to kneel upright, presenting me like an offering.

Felina's boot connected with my stomach with such force that bile rose in my throat. The impact sent shockwaves through my already battered body, and I would have collapsed had the hands restraining me not been so merciless. A strangled gasp escaped my lips—the only sound I allowed myself.

"Look at me when I hurt you," Felina snarled, grabbing my chin with manicured nails that dug into my skin like talons. She slapped me with calculated precision, harder than Grant had, the diamond on her engagement ring slicing open my cheek. The warm trickle of blood down my face contrasted with the biting cold air.

"You should be grateful," she hissed, her face inches from mine, close enough that I could smell the champagne on her breath. Her eyes gleamed with a hatred so pure it was almost beautiful in its perfection. With deliberate slowness, she positioned her stiletto heel directly over my ribs and pressed down, gradually transferring her weight until something gave way with a sickening crack. White-hot pain exploded through my side, stealing my breath and flooding my vision with spots of darkness. "Grant could have had you executed for what you did. I would have, if it were my choice. But this—" she twisted her heel, grinding it against the freshly broken bone, "—this is so much more satisfying."

What I did. Kill my parents.

No one believed me when I professed my innocence. Not even my used friends. To this day, I didn't understand why I was framed or who really killed my loving parents. All I knew was that I had lost everything.

"I think our little murderer has learned her lesson for now," Felina announced, her voice laced with satisfaction as she examined my blood. "Come, ladies. The real celebration awaits—and I have a mate to claim." With triumphant laughs, her entourage followed her toward the grand hall where music and voices already signaled the beginning of the evening's festivities.

They left me there, broken and bleeding in the snow. Darkness eventually claimed me, a small mercy compared to the pain wracking my body.

I don't know how long I lay unconscious in the freezing cold. When awareness finally returned, the moon hung high above me in a pitch-black sky. My eyelashes were crusted with frozen tears, and snow had partially buried my immobile form.

A sudden, searing pain tore through my abdomen, different from anything Felina had inflicted. This agony came from within—from the mate bond itself. It felt like molten iron being poured directly into my veins, like my organs were being shredded by burning claws. I screamed, the sound echoing across the empty clearing as I writhed in the bloodstained snow.

Make it stop! Snow howled in agony, her cries nearly splitting my mind in two. He's completing the rejection! He's—he's—

She couldn't finish, but she didn't need to. I knew exactly what was happening. Somewhere in the warmth of the pack house, while I froze in the darkness outside, Grant was making love with his new mate. The pain of it was beyond description—beyond what any physical torture could inflict.

Pack members passed by, some slowing to watch my suffering with curiosity. Not one offered help. Not one showed concern. I was nothing to them—less than nothing.

With trembling limbs, I forced myself to stand. My vision blurred, and every movement sent waves of agony through my body. I staggered toward the tiny wooden cabin at the edge of pack territory that had been my home since my fall from grace.

The pain intensified with each step. It felt like Arctic ice and volcanic lava battling in my bloodstream. I wanted to collapse, to curl up and die right there in the snow.

Don't give up, Snow whimpered, her voice weaker now but still comforting.

By the time I reached my cabin, my clothes were soaked with snow and blood. I stripped them off with shaking hands and collapsed onto the hard wooden bed. As I lay there, the rejection pain slowly began to subside, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake.

A pounding at my door startled me from my misery. Before I could respond, it burst open. Grant's soldiers stormed in, their faces grim and determined.

"By order of Alpha," the leader announced, his voice devoid of emotion, "Lina Ashley is to be sold to the Werebear Tribe as punishment for the murder of her parents."

The words hit me like a physical blow. The Werebear Tribe—the most savage, brutal collection of outcasts and monsters in the North. Stories of what happened to wolves sold to them—especially female wolves—were the nightmares mothers used to frighten disobedient children.

"No!" The scream tore from my raw throat as blind panic seized me. I scrambled backward across the bed, my broken ribs sending lightning bolts of pain through my chest. "You can't do this! Please! I didn't kill them! I loved them!" My voice cracked with desperation. "You know me! Most of you watched me grow up!"

"Please," I begged, my voice dropping to a broken whisper as tears streamed down my face. "They'll kill me there—or worse. You know what they do to females. Please don't do this."

My pleas evaporated into the cold air as they bound my wrists with silver-infused rope that burned my skin on contact. Primal terror gave me one last surge of desperate strength. I fought with the feral intensity of a cornered animal, kicking, biting, thrashing against their grip. My nails drew blood from one guard's face, and for a moment, I thought I might break free. Then a fist connected with my already broken ribs, and the world exploded in agony.

As I gasped for breath, they seized the opportunity to drag me from the cabin.