Pregnant And Rejected Omega

Harlyn

Stefan stands before me, and I can sense I am annoying him. I feel angry at him, though, and I'm not entirely sure why, so rather than ignoring it, I use it and taunt him.

“Yes, that; now you can stop playing dumb and acting like you have no memory of it,” he snaps, and I almost laugh.

“I wasn’t playing dumb, Your Majesty. I honestly forgot about it.” Pausing, I smile at him. “Isn’t that what you wanted? This wretch to forget about you and leave you alone?” I watch as his eyes widen at my words.

He was expecting a weak, pathetic Harlyn. Sure, I can’t just walk away and dismiss him, but I can undoubtedly use words to taunt him. Hate builds within me, and it's an unusual feeling. Something I can't squash.

“Is that all, Your Majesty? I must see the Princess,” I say before turning to leave.

His hand snaps out and grabs mine. Again? That is twice in one day he’s touched me.

“No, you’re not going anywhere,” his voice echoes, commanding my attention again.

I meet his gaze, and there it is again—the unmistakable glow in his eyes. What is the meaning behind it? Why do his eyes mirror the triplets’?

“Your eyes?” I ask, needing answers. He must have answers.

“Forget about that. You’re not leaving until we finish this conversation, Harlyn,” he insists, his tone firm and unwavering.

But I thought we had concluded our discussion already. Why prolong it? We both know that he hates me and doesn't want me as his mate.

“You needn’t worry, Your Majesty. I comprehend completely and won’t say a word about it,” I assure him. Why would I want to speak to others about it anyway? I have my new mate. He has his.

“This is no laughing matter, Harlyn,” he replies, his voice changing tone. His words only built up the anger within me.

“Who said anything about laughing, Your Majesty? Perhaps you should consider that I, too, have reasons for discretion. Maybe I don’t want people to know. After all, I have a life away from here,” I argue back, feeling annoyed but fighting back the smirk as I see the frustration in his eyes.

Yes, I’ve noticed the link between the glow in his eyes and his emotions, much like with the triplets. But why? Why does this happen with them, and what significance does it hold?

“Don’t pretend, Harlyn. You’re acting as though you don’t care,” he accuses, his words rushed and agitated.

“Because I don’t, Your Majesty. Why should I?” I reply.

“Harlyn,” he growls, his frustration palpable. Every time he speaks, I feel like punching him.

“It was for the best. Neither of us desired that bond, so consider it resolved,” I reply, wanting to get away from him as this anger seems to keep growing.

He draws nearer, his hand still firmly clasping mine. His demeanour betrays his anger at my apparent nonchalance, and I am almost tempted to laugh at his expression right now.

“Really?” he asks. “You’ve truly forgotten? The bond, my rejection of it?” He remains standing. I fight back the anger that burns through me.

Yes, I remember. How could I forget? But what does it matter now?

“Your Majesty,” I respond, my tone measured, “we both have our own paths now. We’re set to marry others. What purpose would it serve for me to dwell on the past? Yes, I forgot. It seems that once I found the right person, it became rather easy to move past the memory of the bond and your rejection.” I can’t resist the temptation to tease him, to see his reaction, and I revel in his eyes widening.

Perhaps I’ve gone too far with my words, but the amusement outweighs any potential consequences. He’s practically begging me to acknowledge the memory, to confirm its significance to me. As if I spent years pining over him, yearning for his affection, only to now find myself consumed by rage at the mere sight of him.

But that’s absurd. It’s laughable, really. Yeah, to begin with, I tried over and over, and he pushed me away. Then I met Wayne and had the pups, and they quickly filled the void Stefan had left within me.

Stefan POV

As I stand there trying to understand and control the emotions that swarm within me. She genuinely forgot about me being her mate and rejecting her. How is that even possible? I want to believe she is joking, but if she isn't?

“If you truly forgot and didn’t care, Harlyn, why didn’t you accept the rejection?” I demand. “Why do I still feel this bond between us?” The question hangs in the air, waiting for her response.

Harlyn’s laughter is like a dagger to my pride, her amusement only deepening my confusion. "Your Majesty, I was sixteen. I had never attended classes about wolves because I didn't have one. I didn't know that I had to accept your rejection. When I learned that is how the rejection worked, there was a considerable amount of water between us," she replies.

"However, you knew, so why hadn't you made me accept your rejection?" She asks, and I panic, I didn't want her to accept it. I thought she didn't accept the rejection all these years because she still felt something for me.

She doesn't care about me. She doesn't remember how we used to be. She doesn't remember anything!

Ghost right now is relishing in my torment; he's enjoying watching me hurt and fight to understand how she could just act like we're nothing, like our bond is nothing.

“I can do it now if you wish,” her voice breaks through my thoughts, but her offer feels distant, overshadowed by the crazy amount of emotions raging within me.

“I, Harlyn Rich-”

Before I can stop myself and comprehend what I’m doing, my body moves of its own accord. I pull her close, capturing her lips in a desperate kiss that ignites a firestorm of sensations within me. My tongue seeks entrance to her mouth, and as our lips meet, I’m overwhelmed by the familiar taste of that fateful night.

I hold her tight, pulling her closer as if trying to mould her to my body. But even as I lose myself in the heat of the moment, a part of me recoils in horror at my own actions.

Damn you, Ghost.

I would have silenced her with my hand, not kissed her. But now, it’s too late. As I grapple with the consequences of my impulsive act, which Ghost caused, I can’t shake the feeling that things will never be the same again. I don't want to let her go, and that's dangerous for Harlyn, as I've no idea how others feel about her becoming queen.