~Hazel's POV~
The kettle stopped vibrating. The silence that followed was heavier than the noise had been. Tense. Suffocating. I could feel Caspian's hand twitch slightly in mine, his breath hot and uneven against my cheek. He had been holding it in probably since the moment the kettle started reacting to me. Then, finally, he exhaled slowly, like a man walking through fire who had made it to the other side.
"See that, Mother?" Caspian said, his voice low but filled with an unshakable authority. "My mate isn't a witch. She's a human. And now—she's the Beta's mate. And she will be treated as such."
He didn't just growl the words to his mother—he growled it at the entire room. Every elder, every pack member, every last soul holding their breath. But even his declaration didn't last a second before it was ripped apart.
"Impossible!" Cayden's voice rang out like a thunderclap. "Never! She's a witch!"
Before anyone could react, he stormed forward and shoved Caspian with such force that his body crashed into the massive tables lining the ceremonial hall. The wood shattered on impact, the sound echoing like bones snapping.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even move.
Then he turned toward me.
Cayden towered over me, all majestic power and brutal grace. His red eyes were glowing no, burning. There was something untamed in them, something feral, something ancient. It hit me then just how different we were. Me, a trembling human girl marked by fate, and him, a beast kissed by the moon.
He grabbed my chin, rough and forceful, and slammed me against the stone wall. My back arched from the impact, air rushing out of my lungs as our bodies collided. He was close—so close his breath fogged my skin.
"Admit it," he growled, his lips almost brushing mine, the rage in his voice barely contained. "Admit it—you are a witch."
I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking uncontrollably. My body was hot and cold all at once. I could feel the sweat sticking strands of hair to my face.
Then—he switched like he was hypnotized.
His grip faltered. Slowly, like he was waking from a spell, his hand softened, and his fingers brushed across my cheek, gently pushing back my soaked hair. His touch lingered too long. His eyes dimmed just slightly as if reality was returning to him. I swallowed hard, my body still trembling beneath his.
Before he could say another word or touch me further, Caspian came charging back like a storm unleashed. He tackled Cayden to the floor, fists flying with a fury I had never seen before. "You don't touch her!" Caspian roared.
Cayden retaliated fast—brutal and precise. He flung Caspian across the floor like he weighed nothing. Caspian landed with a hard thud but sprang back up, panting. Then Cayden grabbed a broken piece of wood from the shattered table and aimed it straight at Caspian's chest.
"Come on," he dared, voice low, eyes dark. "Kill me, brother. Since you're so good at killing siblings."
The air went still.
"Enough!" Sir Claus's voice cut through the madness like a sword.
"Stop this nonsense," he barked, turning toward my father. "Take your daughter home. She will be married to the Beta soon and move to the High House."
Father rose quietly, his back straight but his face unreadable. He didn't say a word, just nodded. The Gilbert family stood with him, and we turned to leave. Eyes followed us curious, judgmental, furious.
Then a voice stopped us.
Caspian.
He whispered something to my father—low, dark, threatening. Whatever it was, it made my father shiver, and Caspian smirked coldly before letting us go.
For the first time in my life, I entered the Gilbert family car—not the grimy maids' bus. I sat right in the front, right where Selene usually sat. She and her daughters were silent in the backseat, stiff with tension. I felt their glares like daggers at my back. No one spoke. Just the sound of heavy breathing and clenching fists filled the car.
When we got home, all hell broke loose.
"No. NO!" Natasha screamed as she stormed into the sitting room. She swept her arm across the coffee table, sending all the crystal glasses crashing to the floor. Shards flew like angry sparks.
Maids rushed in, gasping, eyes wide, whispering.
"This was NOT the plan!" Natasha yelled, her voice shrill, broken. "I was supposed to be the one! Not her! Not the dirty human!"
And honestly? I saw her pain.
She wasn't wrong—not from her view. She expected it to be her. Or if not her, then Sophia. Or Lillian. Someone born with status. Not me. Not their pathetic, quiet, scorned sister with no wolf and no worth.
But I had the mark.
I touched it—the new mark on my neck, still pulsing faintly from Caspian's bite. The symbol of the moon goddess's choice.
I had been chosen.
Because the moon must've seen my pain. My struggle. My worth, even when no one else did.
"What did you do, Hazel?" Natasha spat. "SPEAK. What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," I replied calmly, barely above a whisper.
I turned to head toward my room, but she wasn't done.
Glass flew. Sharp, fast, deadly.
My father moved before I even registered the danger. He caught the cup mid-air—his speed reminding everyone he was once an elite warrior. "Natasha!" he bellowed. "Are you out of your mind? Do you want to kill her? Do you know what the High House will do to us if anything happens to her?"
"FATHER?!" Natasha gasped. "You're defending her? HER?"
She looked like her world had shattered.
She wasn't the only one.
Father was supposed to hate me. He was supposed to let that cup hit my face, not protect me. But he did. And that was the scariest part of all.
"Calm down, Natasha," he said, quieter now.
Then Selene spoke up, cold and calculated as always.
"She might be moon-chosen. But Cayden rejected her," she sneered. "She'll always be the Alpha's rejected mate. And she's human. She'll age and die before we even wrinkle."
"She'll be gone while you're still young," Lillian chimed in.
Sophia added, "She won't even be able to give him a child. Humans can't birth werewolves."
Their words were knives, slicing deep.
But I was done bleeding for them.
I swallowed my rage and stormed to my room. Slammed the door. I threw myself onto the bed, my fingers curling into the sheets.
I should've run away. I'd dreamed of escaping this house for years. But I didn't. And now I was here—marked, but still unwanted. Chosen, but still hated.
The Alpha didn't want me.
Rejected again.
By my father. My stepmother. My sisters. Now the Alpha.
And everyone was watching to see if I would break.
But I wouldn't. I gripped the hem of my dress, breath heavy.
I had no wolf. The rejection wouldn't kill me. But I wished it could.
And then I smiled bitterly. He didn't want me?
Fine.
I would reject him. I would walk into that High House and rip the bond apart myself. If my rejection destroyed his wolf, good. Let him feel what I felt. Let him burn like I burned every day in this cursed house.
Tomorrow, I will end this.
Tomorrow, I would reject the Alpha; I don't have a wolf, so the rejection won't pain me but him. It will destroy and taunt his ego and status. A rejected Alpha.
And he would finally understand what rejection feels like.