Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 223

Nadia pov

I sat at the small desk in my guest quarters, going over the trade documentation from that afternoon's negotiations, grateful for the mundane, uncomplicated distraction after everything that had unfolded with Priya.

The knock came sharp and unexpected, and when I opened the door, I found three women I didn't immediately recognize standing there, their expressions carrying identical, hostile appraisal.

"Can I help you," I said, keeping my voice carefully neutral despite the obvious hostility radiating from all three of them.

"We heard about the confrontation earlier," the woman in front said, her tone carrying deliberate, cutting condescension. "With Priya."

"And?"

"And we wanted to actually see for ourselves," she continued, her eyes traveling over me with obvious, calculated dismissiveness, "exactly what kind of woman apparently thinks she's suited to be Ethan Cross's mate."

I felt my jaw tighten, though I kept my expression carefully composed. "I don't believe that's genuinely any of your business."

"It's genuinely everyone's business," the second woman said, stepping forward with obvious hostility. "Ethan's going to be Alpha eventually. His mate matters to this entire pack's future, and frankly, you don't strike any of us as particularly suited to that role."

"You're not good enough to be his mate," the first woman hissed, something venomous entering her voice now. "A refugee, raised by that unstable woman who apparently caused considerable chaos throughout this territory. What genuine standing do you have to actually claim a position that significant?"

Something cold settled into my chest at the deliberate cruelty of that particular accusation, understanding exactly what history they were referencing, exactly how thoroughly they'd apparently researched my own complicated, painful background specifically to weaponize it against me.

"My background," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the anger building sharp beneath my composed exterior, "is genuinely none of your concern."

"It's precisely our concern," the third woman said, finally speaking, her voice carrying quiet, calculated malice. "You think simply because some mystical bond apparently exists, you're automatically entitled to a position that requires genuine strength, genuine legitimate standing? Meanwhile you're barely more than a manipulated pawn, raised by someone who nearly destroyed this entire pack leadership."

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