The Breaking Point of Mate: Giving Up on My Alpha novel Chapter 8

Melanie's POV

I heard her words. I gave a bitter laugh in my heart.

I had certainly lost myself over the years. My whole life centered on Archer and Trista. I revolved around them. No wonder Skye thought that. But that was going to stop.

I was about to speak. Then a few people walked toward us.

Their scents mixed, coming from different packs. They were all werewolves.

The one leading them called out, "Skye!"

Their eyes slid over me. Their noses twitched, subtly assessing my scent.

"Skye, who is this?" one of them asked. His slit pupils were judging me.

Skye replied coolly, "An omega from our pack."

She deliberately hid my true identity. She probably thought knowing I was the Luna of the Razor Pack would embarrass her.

"Oh, an omega..." The men drew out the word. Their scorn was obvious.

In werewolf society, no one would care about an omega.

Judging by their clothes, they were high-status. They must have returned for the UCLA celebration.

After Skye's comment, only one young beta stared at my exposed legs for a moment. The others ignored me completely.

They gathered around Skye, ready to leave. Their scents carried a patronizing arrogance.

Before, I might have felt hurt by Skye denying my Luna title. Now, it was just ridiculous.

Just as they turned, I calmly released my Alpha aura.

It wasn't a brutal shockwave. It was steady power, like a deep-sea current. It quietly spread across the cafe floor.

Skye and her companions froze instantly. The fur on their necks bristled involuntarily.

Skye's face turned beet red. They were all werewolves. They knew the rank of that power.

How could someone releasing such strong Alpha aura be "just an omega"?

Skye's lie burst silently in the air, like a balloon popped by a claw.

I didn't say another word. I didn't reveal I was the Luna. I didn't call them out for their scorn. I simply picked up my purse and left.

The next day, I arrived at the office. My scent gland suddenly felt warm.

Frost urgently whispered in my mind, "It's Archer's cedar scent! It's faint, but it's him!"

I stopped short. I instinctively denied it. "No way. Trista and he should still be in London."

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