"Listen to Adrian and Azura! Accept the rejection, you worthless omega!"
A new voice, dripping with condescending charm, joined the party. A handsome man with the same striking silver hair as Selena strode towards them. Azura's mental rolodex of characters spun and landed on a new entry: the brother. Likely the asshole brother.
"Jonathan..." Selena whimpered, her voice cracking with a fresh wave of agony.
But Jonathan was immune to her pain. He looked at her like she was a particularly stubborn stain on the carpet.
"Do you, someone who killed your own father, as well as Alexander, really think you deserve to be Luna? Can't you get that through your thick skull?"
"I... I..."
Selena trembled so violently she looked like a Jell-O mold in an earthquake, her pathetic whimpers making Azura's teeth ache.
That was it. That was the last goddamn straw.
"SHUT UP!"
The words ripped from Azura's throat with the force of a hurricane. Jonathan froze, his jaw practically hitting the ground. He looked utterly gobsmacked, as if his pet goldfish had just started reciting Shakespeare.
He was used to Azura being a playful, gentle creature around him, while directing all her venom at Selena.
This sudden role reversal had his short-circuiting.
Azura immediately turned back to Selena, her voice softening into what she hoped was a convincing, 'I'm-on-your-side' whisper.
"Look, this is all for your own good, not because I-"
But again Selena looked at her coldly, while whispering.
"You'll get... karma, Azura..."
The words, soft yet sharp, stabbed Azura right in the ego. A silent, internal scream of pure, unadulterated frustration echoed through her skull.
OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?! You get all weepy and pathetic when Mr. Silver-Haired Douchebag over there spews his venom, but the second I try to be nice, you look at me like I'm the antichrist! Make it make sense!
She took a deep, shuddering breath, the air catching in her throat. The internal screaming had to stop. Logic. She needed logic.
Also new mantra. New coping mechanism.
Remember, you idiot... The original Azura, the soul you're squatting in, was probably a world-class bitch to this girl. Daily. She probably stole her lunch money and tripped her down the stairs for fun.You, Azura Luo, currently inhabiting this drama-magnet body, must cultivate the patience of a thousand Buddhas. This is not about you, it's about the emotional baggage of a fictional character. Just... breathe.
In the end, Selena pushed herself up from the ground, her movements stiff and robotic. She violently brushed off Azura's hand, which had been reaching out to steady her, as if it were a poisonous spider.
Then, she lifted her chin, her tear-streaked face a mask of cold resignation, and looked at Adrian.
"I, Selena Williams, accept your rejection, Alpha Adrian Quinn."
The words hung in the air, final and devastating. The moment she finished, her knees buckled. Azura lunged forward, grabbing her arm to keep her from face-planting on the ground. At the exact same time, Adrian crumpled with a guttural groan, collapsing in a heap of designer suit and male agony.
"Alpha!"
Jonathan yelped, abandoning his post as resident asshole to scramble towards his fallen leader.
A minute later, Selena seemed to find her footing. She wrenched her arm from Azura's grasp with surprising strength and staggered away from the party, a lone, tragic figure heading for the exit.
The crowd of pack members, who had been insulting her just moments before, suddenly parted like the fucking Red Sea, their faces a mixture of mockery and morbid curiosity.
Azura didn't give a flying fuck about Jonathan and Adrian shouting her name. She bolted after Selena, disappearing with her into the pack house.
Left in the dust, Adrian groaned, leaning heavily on Jonathan as he tried to stand. "What's wrong... with your sister? She's... different than usual..."
"I don't know either..." Jonathan muttered, his face a mask of confusion. "It's not like Azura at all..."
Meanwhile, Azura was discovering a critical flaw in her heroic rescue mission: she had absolutely no fucking clue where she was going. She'd been in this world for, what, half an hour? Her grand tour consisted of a party area and the general direction of the front door.
Selena, on the other hand, seemed to know the building's secret passageways like the back of her tragic, weepy hand. She ducked through a doorway, took a sharp left down a hallway, and vanished.
"Shit, shit, shit," Azura muttered, her head whipping back and forth like a malfunctioning bobblehead.
She was so busy scanning the intersecting hallways for any sign of a silver-haired damsel in distress that she completely forgot to watch where she was going.
WHAM.
She accidentally bumped into someone, a stern-looking middle-aged woman in a crisp maid's apron who immediately bowed so low Azura was worried she'd get a concussion.
"Lady Azura."
Azura nodded slowly, trying to look regal and not like a lost puppy.
"Have you seen Selena?"
The moment the name left Azura's lips, the maid's face soured like she'd just licked a lemon. She repeated the name with a venom that could strip paint.
"That murderer? Lady Azura, I saw how you tried to help her, and she just shoved you away! You are far too kind to that wretch! She's always been a doom-monger! The one who couldn't listen to orders as a child, who dragged the alpha heir deep into the forest across the border, even though all their friends begged her not to! Your father had to chase after them, and that's when they ran into the rogues! They killed your father and the alpha heir, while she was perfectly fine! She's a curse!"
Azura stood there, completely stunned. She came here for directions, not a goddamn exposition dump from the pack's resident town crier.
Still, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of luck. She'd been wondering about the whole 'murderer' label, and now she had the answer: it wasn't a premeditated stabbing, it was a childhood playdate gone horribly, supernaturally wrong.
Of course, Selena got blamed. In this genre, the heroine could trip over a rock and somehow be responsible for a stock market crash. It was practically a law of physics.
Azura wasn't even surprised anymore. It was like she was the walking, talking embodiment of Murphy's Law.
She let out a silent, weary sigh. "Okay, great, thanks for the tragic backstory. Now, which way did she go?"
The maid, clearly disappointed she couldn't continue her villain monologue, reluctantly pointed a finger down a long, dimly lit corridor. "Straight."
Azura nodded, ready to continue her doomed rescue mission, but before she could even take a single step, a hand clamped down on her arm like a bear trap.