Rejected by the Prince, Chosen by the Lycan King

Juliet POV

Fire. It felt like liquid fire was being injected directly into my veins.

The agonizing burn of Silver tearing through flesh is something no werewolf can endure, let alone a frail, sixteen-year-old girl deemed a wolfless disgrace. The original owner of this broken body had already succumbed to the excruciating pain, her soul shattered by the Silver-laced whip.

But I was not her. I was a top-tier trauma surgeon and a covert operative in my past life. I had survived interrogations that would break grown men. As my consciousness violently fused with this battered shell, a flood of pathetic memories assaulted my brain.

A drunken pact made by my father, Alpha Harold, promising his favorite daughter, Charlize, to the crippled and notoriously cruel Prince Bryce. Charlize's tearful refusal. Her running to her secret lover, the arrogant Alpha Heir Braydon, twisting the truth to make me the sacrificial lamb.

I gasped, my lungs screaming as I tasted the metallic tang of my own blood against the freezing stone of the Packhouse courtyard.

*Smack!*

A heavy hand struck my cheek, snapping my head to the side.

"Stop playing dead, you wolfless trash," a male voice snarled.

I forced my heavy eyelids open. Standing over me was Braydon Scott, his handsome face twisted in a mask of disgust. Before I could even brace myself, his expensive leather shoe slammed into my chest, stealing the little breath I had left.

"Braydon, please, don't hit my sister anymore," a sickeningly sweet voice pleaded from behind him.

Charlize. She stepped forward, her cloying rose scent suffocating me. She looked like a fragile porcelain doll, her eyes brimming with fake tears. "She just doesn't understand her duty to the Palmer Pack. She's terrified of Prince Bryce."

I coughed, spitting a glob of dark blood onto the pristine toe of Braydon's shoe. I glared up at my half-sister, my eyes devoid of the fear she expected.

"Shameless bitch," I rasped, my voice sounding like crushed glass.

Charlize gasped, taking a dramatic step back into Braydon's protective embrace.

Before Braydon could retaliate, a sharp, agonizing pressure dug into my scalp. Carmen Gomez, my father's high-ranking mistress who paraded around as the Luna, grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. The stench of her cheap, overpowering perfume assaulted my nose-a desperate attempt to mask her low-born scent.

"Watch your mouth, you useless Omega," Carmen hissed. She drove the stiletto heel of her shoe directly into the back of my head, grinding it against my skull. "You will take my daughter's place, or I will peel the skin from your bones."

I didn't scream. I just locked my eyes on hers, memorizing the exact angle I would need to slice her throat open later.

Braydon crouched down, his Alpha aura pressing heavily against my weakened body. "Listen to me very carefully, Juliet. You are going to get in that transport tomorrow and serve Prince Bryce. If you refuse, or if you try to run, I will personally see to it that your blind mother, Estelle, is executed."

My heart stuttered. Estelle. The memory of the gentle, blind woman who had shielded this body from the world's cruelty surged forward, becoming my immediate weakness.

"We will tell the Elders she was caught whoring with a filthy Rogue," Braydon whispered, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "The penalty is death by dismemberment. Your choice."

"Enough," a cold, authoritative voice boomed across the courtyard.

Alpha Harold stepped out from the shadows of the porch. He didn't even look at me with an ounce of paternal pity. He only saw a political tool.

"I, Alpha Harold, command you," he declared, unleashing the full, crushing weight of the Alpha's Command. It forced my face back down against the bloody stones, my muscles locking against my will. "You will be bound and thrown into the transport. You leave for the Royal Pack territory tomorrow."

The sheer force of the command, combined with the lethal toxicity of the Silver still embedded in my shredded back, was too much for this malnourished body. The edges of my vision rapidly darkened.

I let the darkness pull me under, but not before etching their faces into my mind. I was no longer the weak, crying Juliet they knew. I was a surgeon, and I knew exactly how to dissect a life piece by piece.

Juliet POV

The darkness didn't hold me for long. I woke to the agonizing throb of my shredded back and the damp, freezing chill of my dilapidated bedroom.

Before I could even open my eyes, the heavy wooden door banged open. Two burly enforcers tossed a limp, bloodied figure onto the hard floorboards like a sack of garbage.

Dove, my wolfless maid.

She scrambled across the floor, sobbing as she gathered the frail woman into her arms.

Her round face already bruised and swollen from a previous beating.

I forced my eyes open. It was Estelle. My mother. Her beautiful, blind eyes were vacant, and her face was a canvas of fresh, brutal bruises.

"What happened?" I rasped, my throat raw.

"She felt you dying," Dove cried, her tears dropping onto Estelle's blood-matted hair. "She crawled to Elder Edwina's room to beg for your life. But the Elder... she said a broken Luna was useless. She ordered the guards to beat her in the Pack's dark room."

A cold, lethal calm washed over me. The modern operative inside me fully locked into this broken body.

"Look at the pathetic blind fool," a sickeningly sweet voice sneered from the doorway.

Carmen Gomez stepped into the room, her cheap, overpowering perfume failing to mask her low-born scent. She looked down at my half-dead mother with absolute triumph. "This is what happens when you forget your place. Tomorrow, you will get in that car to Prince Bryce, or next time, they won't stop hitting her until she stops breathing."

I didn't scream. I didn't cry.

I moved.

Ignoring the tearing of my own flesh, I shot up from the bed. Before Carmen could even register my movement, I swung my arm and delivered a vicious, bone-rattling slap across her delicate face.

*Crack.*

Carmen stumbled back, gasping in shock. "You little bitch!" she shrieked, her eyes flashing gold as she tried to summon her high-ranking aura to call the Warriors.

But I was faster. I reached over my shoulder, dug my fingers directly into my own raw, bleeding wound, and ripped out a jagged, blood-soaked Silver barb left behind by the whip. I lunged, slamming Carmen against the rotting wall, and pressed the lethal, burning Silver directly against her carotid artery.

Carmen froze. The scent of her fear spiked instantly. Her weak Inner Wolf whimpered at the proximity of the deadly metal.

"Call a Pack Doctor," I whispered, my voice devoid of any human emotion. "Now."

"You're insane," she choked out, wincing as the Silver seared her skin. "If you kill me, you die, and Charlize-"

"Will have to marry the crippled, sadistic Prince Bryce," I finished for her, pressing the barb a millimeter deeper. "Because I won't be there to take her place. Call. The. Doctor."

Carmen swallowed hard, her eyes wide with terror. She knew I wasn't bluffing. To save her precious daughter's future, she had to swallow her pride. "Fetch the doctor!" she screamed at the guards in the hallway before I shoved her toward the door. She scrambled away like a frightened rat.

Hours later, after the Pack Doctor had reluctantly treated Estelle and left, the heavy door creaked open again.

This time, it was Alpha Harold.

He didn't look at my bandaged mother or my bleeding back. He simply walked to the small, rickety table and dropped a thick parchment sealed with the Alpha's crest.

"A Pack Decree," Harold said coldly, his Alpha aura pressing down on the room. "It states that your mother, the former Luna, was caught mating with a filthy Rogue. The penalty is death."

Estelle let out a broken sob from the bed, her blind eyes wide with betrayal.

"If you are not in that transport tomorrow morning," Harold continued, his voice devoid of any paternal warmth, "I will read this to the entire Pack. She will be executed, and her name will be cursed for generations. Make your choice, Juliet."

He turned and walked out, leaving the threat hanging in the freezing air.

Estelle blindly reached out, her trembling hands searching for the table. "Give it to me, Juliet," she wept. "Let me tear it. I won't let him use me to ruin your life."

I stepped forward and gently caught her hand. With my other hand, I picked up the forged decree, feeling the heavy wax seal. I carefully folded it and tucked it into the pocket of my torn dress.

"No, Mom," I said softly, my eyes fixed on the door Harold had just walked through. "We aren't destroying this. Tomorrow morning, in front of the entire Pack and the Royal escorts, this piece of paper is going to be the blade that cuts his throat."

Juliet POV

The crisp morning air was suffocating, thick with the tension of gathered wolves. Outside the grand gates of the Palmer Packhouse, a fleet of black bulletproof SUVs idled, their engines a low, menacing hum. The Royal Pack escorts stood like statues, radiating lethal discipline.

Beside the lead vehicle sat Prince Bryce in his wheelchair. His face was deathly pale, his eyes swirling with a gloomy, bitter darkness that dared anyone to pity him.

"Get in the car, Juliet," a burly Warrior growled, grabbing my bruised arm to shove me forward.

I dug my heels into the gravel, my blood running cold with absolute resolve. "No."

Alpha Harold stepped out from the crowd, his eyes flashing with a dangerous warning. "I, Alpha Harold, command you to get in that transport," he boomed, unleashing the full, crushing weight of his Alpha's Command.

The heavy pressure rolled over the crowd, forcing weaker wolves to lower their heads. But as the command hit me, a strange, icy resilience flared deep within my veins. The invisible weight shattered against my mind. I stood tall, completely unaffected.

Harold's eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

I turned my gaze directly to the crippled prince. "Prince Bryce!" I shouted, projecting my voice so every Pack member present could hear. "I will not marry you. My father and Alpha Heir Braydon are playing you for a fool. They forged a death warrant against my mother to force me-a 'wolfless' Omega-to take the place of his precious daughter, Charlize. All so she can marry Braydon and become the future Luna Queen!"

A collective gasp ripped through the courtyard. Bryce's head snapped toward Braydon, his dark eyes igniting with sudden, lethal fury.

"Shut your mouth, you lying bitch!" Braydon roared.

His golden Inner Wolf aura exploded outward. Before I could even brace myself, he lunged. His heavy leather boot slammed into my ribs with the force of a freight train. I flew backward, crashing hard onto the unforgiving gravel. The metallic taste of fresh blood flooded my mouth.

Harold immediately seized the chaos. He projected his gray wolf aura, trying to blanket the murmuring crowd in his authority. "Do not listen to this insane girl!" he shouted, feigning the heartbreak of a betrayed father. "Her mother, Estelle, is a greedy, arrogant woman who plotted to have Juliet seduce the Alpha Heir! This is nothing but a pathetic, jealous tantrum!"

Some of the Pack members began to sneer at me, easily swayed by their Alpha's scent.

I spat a mouthful of blood onto the stones and slowly pushed myself up. My ribs screamed in agony, but my hands were steady as I reached into my pocket. I pulled out the heavy parchment sealed with Harold's wax crest.

"Then explain this," I rasped, tossing it directly at Bryce's feet.

Bryce snatched the decree from the ground. His eyes rapidly scanned the forged charges of my mother mating with a Rogue. His knuckles turned white, the paper crinkling under his furious grip. With a roar of pure disgust, he hurled the crumpled parchment directly into Harold's face.

"You dare humiliate me with this trash?" Bryce snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "You think I'm a crippled fool you can just toss your garbage to, Harold? I will not accept this insult. Luna Queen Augusta will hear of this treachery." He shot a deadly glare at his brother. "And Braydon, I will remember this."

As the Royal escorts tensed, a strange sensation prickled the back of my neck. It wasn't the suffocating pressure of an Alpha. It was something far more terrifying. A faint, intoxicating scent drifted through the chaos-violent thunderstorms and dark cedar.

My newly awakening senses-sharper than any normal wolf's-pulled my attention upward. High above, on the secluded balcony of the Packhouse's side wing, stood a man cloaked in shadows. Lycan King Ezekiel Scott.

Even from this distance, his abyssal black eyes were locked onto me.

*"Should we intervene, My King? Prince Bryce is humiliated,"* a Warrior beside him whispered.

Through the ringing in my ears, my enhanced hearing caught Ezekiel's cold, rumbling reply. *"No. Let's watch the show."*

His gaze bore into me, stripping away my defenses. I saw a flicker of dark amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of my defiance against the Alpha's Command. But his next whispered words chilled me to the bone.

*"She has spine. But in the face of absolute power, stubborn weaklings always die the worst deaths."*

He was right. I had won this battle, but as Bryce spun his wheelchair around and barked orders for his men to leave, I knew the real slaughter was about to begin.