Rejected Omega Was Told to Sing the Luna Hymn as a Joke – But Her Voice Left the Alpha King Speechless
Understanding Brokenness
“No,”
I said gently.
“You couldn’t have. Because you would have sung the Luna Hymn the way it was meant to be sung: perfectly, powerfully, without a hint of vulnerability. And that’s not what Charles needed to hear.”
“So what? I’m being punished for being strong?”
“You’re not being punished at all. You’ll marry well, Angelia. You’ll find an alpha who appreciates your strength and beauty. But Charles needed someone who understood what it meant to be broken. And that was never going to be you.”
She stood abruptly, smoothing her gown.
“I don’t understand you, Catherine. I’ve never understood you. But I hope…”
She paused at the door.
“I hope you’re happy. Truly. Because if you’re not, if you’ve somehow manipulated this situation, it will destroy you.”
“I know,”
I said.
“That’s why I’m being so careful to deserve it.”
She left without another word, and I returned to my books, no longer haunted by the ghost of who I could never be.
Choosing the Brave Life
The night before the wedding, Charles found me on the balcony, staring at the stars.
“Nervous?”
he asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“Terrified,”
I admitted.
“Tomorrow I’ll be Luna Queen. Tomorrow everyone in the kingdom will be watching me, judging me, waiting for me to fail.”
“Then let them watch,”
he kissed my temple.
“Let them judge. You’ve already proven yourself in the ways that matter. You broke an impossible curse, survived a beast, and earned the respect of the council. Everything else is just ceremony.”
“Easy for you to say. You were born to this.”
“I was born to duty and expectation and crushing loneliness,”
he turned me to face him.
“But you… you chose this. Chose me. Chose a life that terrifies you because you wanted it badly enough to be brave. That’s more impressive than anything blood or birthright could give you.”
Breaking the Unbreakable
“You always know what to say.”
“That’s because you’re easy to praise,”
he cupped my face.
“Tomorrow, Catherine, you become my Luna. My queen. My partner in everything. Are you ready for that?”
I looked into his storm-gray eyes that had once belonged to a beast, that now held nothing but love and certainty.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
He kissed me then, deep and slow and full of promise.
Tomorrow would be public vows and political theater, but tonight was just us—two broken people who’d found each other in the dark and chosen to build something beautiful. And that was more than enough.
I woke on my wedding day to find snow falling. It was late spring; snow shouldn’t have been possible.
But when I opened my eyes and looked out the window, fat white flakes drifted down like a blessing, coating the palace grounds in pristine white.
Magic in the Spring
Thomas appeared with breakfast, his old face creased with wonder.
“It’s magic, Miss Catherine. Old magic. The kind that appears when something significant is happening.”
“Snow in spring is significant?”
“A Luna Queen coronation is significant. The moon goddess herself is paying attention.”
He set down the tray, then handed me a small envelope.
“This arrived just before dawn. No messenger, no seal—just appeared on the king’s desk.”
My hands trembled as I opened it. Inside, in elegant script, was a single line:
“Blessings on the one who sees wholly. May your bond be unbreakable. —Morgana.”
The witch who’d cursed Charles was sending her blessing. I clutched the note to my chest, unexpected tears burning my eyes.
Even she, who had every reason to hate, to curse, and to destroy, was acknowledging what we’d built.
Regal and Worthy
“Miss Catherine,”
Thomas’s voice was gentle.
“It’s time to prepare.”
The next hours were a blur of activity. Servants helped me bathe, scenting the water with moonflower and silver sage—traditional herbs for Luna ceremonies.
They dried my hair until it shone, then wove it into an intricate crown braid studded with tiny crystals that caught the light like stars.
The dress was breathtaking: ivory silk that flowed like water, embroidered with silver thread in patterns of moons and wolves. The neckline was modest but elegant, the sleeves long and fitted.
It was nothing like the ostentatious gowns I’d seen other noblewomen wear. It was simple, beautiful, and somehow perfectly me.
When they fastened Charles’s promise ring onto a chain around my neck, to be replaced with wedding bands during the ceremony, I finally looked like what I was about to become. I looked like a queen.
“You’re beautiful, miss,”
one of the younger servants whispered, tears in her eyes.
Under the Moon’s Witness
I barely recognized myself in the mirror. The broken girl from the kitchen had disappeared.
In her place stood someone who looked confident, regal, and worthy of standing beside a king. I just hoped the illusion held.
The ceremony was held in the great hall—the same place where I’d sung the Luna Hymn weeks ago, where this entire journey had begun. But now the hall was transformed.
Thousands of white flowers hung from the ceiling, creating a canopy of blooms. Silver ribbons caught the light from massive chandeliers.
At the far end, before floor-to-ceiling windows framing the snowy courtyard, stood an altar carved from moonstone. The hall was packed.
Every important Alpha and Luna from the territories was there, along with council members in their formal regalia and nobles I’d never met. They were all dressed in their finest, all staring as I entered.
My father was there, standing with our pack delegation, and Angelia was beside him in ice-blue silk, her expression carefully neutral.
