Pregnant And Rejected Omega

Harlyn

My heart pounded erratically as I relaxed into the kiss for a brief second. Stefan’s kiss soothed my mind, and it quickly dissolved into a seething anger that ignited within me like wildfire.

Without hesitation, I pushed him away with a force fueled by betrayal and hurt. Before I could comprehend the gravity of my actions, my hand swung instinctively, delivering a punch that landed squarely on his jaw.

A shocked gasp escaped my lips as I recoiled, my eyes widening in disbelief. I had just punched the king—a reckless act of defiance.

“You’re the king! You’re engaged to marry a princess, and you kiss me?” I spat the words out, my voice trembling with fury and disbelief. “This is over, Stefan! Stay away from me.”

Turning on my heel, I stormed away, my steps fueled by anger and fear. I couldn't bear to face him and whatever punishment and confrontation would come from my impulsive outburst. I've no idea where that anger came from.

I certainly don't want to give him the satisfaction of lecturing me about what could be done to help me hit the king.

As I hurried away, the weight of my actions settled over me like a heavy blanket. What had I done? If my father found out about this, it would undoubtedly spell disaster—a scandal of epic proportions that would tarnish our family’s reputation. However, it would help prove his words over the years about me.

As I fight to consider the magnitude of my mistake, simmering resentment bubbles on the surface. Stefan rejected me, only to act like he had some right over me. I should have never moved on and just kept him as my mate while he still wouldn't accept me.

With each step, my anger burned brighter, fueled by some unknown driving force. How dare he presume to dictate the course of my life, to treat me as though I were nothing more than a pawn in his game.

No, I refuse to be impacted by his arrogance; I refuse to bend to the will of a man who saw me as nothing important. The more I disappeared into the manor, my resolve hardened. I may have punished the king, but I will be damned if I allow him - or anyone else- to control my future.

“Harlyn!” Lucy’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back from the abyss of my anger. I turned to find her seated on a sofa, her expression full of concern. “Are you okay?” she asks.

With a forced smile, I crossed the room to join her, grateful for the distraction her presence provided.

“I’m fine, yes. Perfect, actually,” I replied. It's a lie, but I can't tell her the truth. The truth was, I was far from fine—I was consumed with anger at Stefan. Now, I just want to be with the pups. But for now, I pushed aside those thoughts.

“Good, you need to choose a dress. Then we have our little lady's night," Lucy said before she began pulling me through the manor. She is determined to get this dress sorted. Getting into the room I see a few dresses hung up waiting.

I approach the dresses, and I look at each one. I will wear one to mark the beginning of Lucy and Samuel's new life.

“Lucy, which dress do you prefer? This is your wedding, and both are unbelievable,” I explain, knowing her thoughts matter more.

She wastes no time in choosing the dress; she holds it up to me. "This one," she smiles at me, and I take it. I walk into the small room and get changed; going back out, she looks at me and smiles. However, her smile quickly drops, and she begins to cry.

“Please don’t leave,” she pleads.

“Okay, let me get out of the dress, and we can talk,” I offer. I know she wants me to stay, but I can't let the pups be around that abuse of my father.

As I changed into my clothes, Lucy’s confession hung heavy in the air—a reminder of the almost destroyed bond. I join her back in the room.

“I have no one, Harlyn. You’re my only friend. I miss you,” she confessed, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I tried, but there is no one like you. I have no one, please."

I hold her close, my arms offering comfort. I can't do it. However, I have to consider Wayne.

“I can’t stay, Lucy. I can’t leave Wayne,” I admit. The words are like heavy weights on my soul.

“Then make him come here!” she insists. Her voice tells me she means it.

It isn't that simple. I was exiled from the pack, family and kingdom. Wayne has his own pack and town to consider. My father's hate for me will only grow if I stay.

“I was exiled, Lucy.” I get she wants me to stay forever, but she should be happy that my father even let me stay for the wedding.

“I will ask Stefan to revoke it, as the king he can. Whatever you were exiled for can be undone,” Lucy argues.

I know the truth, and that isn't possible.

“The king can’t undo this, Lucy. It was my father’s sole choice to remove me from the family and the pack. He didn’t even tell your family why, and he’s right—it’s a family issue,” I explained. Had the king agreed, fine, it could have been revoked. However, it was my father’s own action.

Sure, I could stay in the kingdom; my father has no rights over that. If the king agreed, I could stay, but I would still be a rogue without a pack and unwelcome.

“Then, at least tell me what caused it!”

Her plea for answers hangs in the air. She needs answers, closure to move forward, and to allow me to leave.

“Remember my eighteenth birthday?” I began, the memories flooding back with a painful clarity.

“Yes, I was sick for days after the shots.” She admits with a laugh.

"I found myself in a room with a man, I've no idea who, and I had no control over my own body," I explain. Her eyes widen in shock and my words stop as my phone rings, Wayne!

I glance at the screen, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I see Wayne’s name flashing across it. But as I moved to answer the call, Lucy’s voice cut through the moment.

“You used to smile like that for me,” she remarks.

"I still do, Lucy," I reply.

“I’m glad you found someone who truly loves you for you without you having to change for them," she says, and I smile.

I hugged her tightly. “Give me a few minutes, okay?” I whispered.

"Okay, but we will need to talk about what you said and why that meant you were exiled. Then, we drink and party," she says while laughing. I nod in agreement.

As I stepped away to answer Wayne’s call, I wondered if Lucy would ever understand the rift between my father and me. It was always there, even when I was younger. For now all I can do is try and hold the fragile relationship I have with Lucy close and hope it doesn't shatter completely.