After My Alpha Rejected Me for a Political Luna

The healing ward at Silvercrest was three times the size of anything I'd had at Black Hollow.

I stood in the doorway on my first morning, taking it in. Tall windows faced east, letting in clean morning light. Shelves lined two walls, empty and waiting. A worktable sat in the center, solid oak, unmarked. In the corner, a small alcove had been set up with a cot, a desk, and a chair.

And draped across the cot was a pelt I didn't recognize.

I crossed the room slowly, my boots echoing on the stone floor. The pelt was thick, silvery-gray, and when I touched it, warmth spread through my fingertips like it had been sitting in sunlight for hours. Except the sun had just risen. The alcove was still in shadow.

I pulled my hand back.

Luna stirred faintly. *Enchanted.*

I knew that. I also knew I hadn't asked for it.

I folded the pelt carefully and set it on the chair. Then I unpacked my notebooks, arranged my tools on the worktable, and got to work. There were inventory lists to review, supply orders to place, and a pack healer hierarchy to establish. I had done this before. I could do it again.

I didn't think about the pelt.

I didn't think about the fact that someone had known I would be cold before I arrived.

I worked until midday, when Marcus appeared in the doorway. He was August's Beta—tall, steady, with the kind of face that gave nothing away until he decided otherwise.

"The pack's gathering tonight," he said. "Formal introduction. August wants you there."

I looked up from my notes. "I'm the Head Healer. I don't need a formal introduction."

"You're also the former Luna of Black Hollow," Marcus said evenly. "And you invoked the Healer's Covenant to leave. People are going to have questions."

I pressed my fingertips together. "What kind of questions?"

"The kind you'll answer better in person than through gossip."

He wasn't wrong.

I nodded once. "I'll be there."

Marcus left without another word, and I went back to my inventory lists. But my hands were colder than they should have been.

---

The gathering was held in Silvercrest's main hall, a space that felt nothing like Black Hollow's stone-and-shadow architecture. The ceiling was high, supported by carved wooden beams. Lanterns hung from iron hooks, casting warm light across long tables where the pack sat in loose, comfortable clusters.

I stood near the entrance, wearing the same simple dress I'd worn at the banquet. I hadn't brought ceremonial clothes. I hadn't thought I'd need them.

August stood at the front of the hall, speaking to a group of high-ranked wolves. He was taller than I remembered from the summit a year ago, his presence filling the space without effort. His wolf's aura was different from Donovan's—less sharp, more solid, like standing near something immovable.

He glanced toward the entrance. Our eyes met.

His scent hit me then—cedar and storm, clean and overwhelming. My wolf stirred, lifting her head for the first time since the rejection. I forced myself to look away.

Marcus appeared beside me. "Ready?"

"No."

"Good. Let's go."

He led me to the front of the hall. The conversations quieted as we passed. I felt every gaze track my movement, measuring, calculating. I kept my chin level and my hands loose at my sides.

August stepped forward. "Silvercrest," he said, his voice low and unhurried. "This is Peyton Mills. She's our new Head Healer."

A woman near the front—Delta-ranked, judging by her aura—leaned forward. "She was Black Hollow's healer for five years. Why would she leave?"

I met her gaze. "I invoked the Healer's Covenant."

"That's a serious accusation," another wolf said, older, with Gamma markings on his collar. "You're saying your Alpha betrayed you."

"I'm saying the bond was severed," I replied. "The Covenant protects a healer's right to leave under those circumstances. The elders honored it."

"And now you're here," the Delta said. "Convenient."

I felt the challenge in her tone. Luna growled softly.

"I'm here because I'm a lunar healer," I said. "I can accelerate recovery, reinforce wards, and sustain a pack's fighting strength through channeled moonlight energy. If you'd like a demonstration, I can show you."

The hall went silent.

The Gamma shifted in his seat. "What kind of demonstration?"

I walked to the nearest table, where a young warrior sat with his arm in a sling. "May I?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

I placed my hand over the sling and closed my eyes. Luna rose inside me, still weak but steady enough. I pulled moonlight from the air—faint, barely there in the lantern-lit hall—and channeled it through my palm. The warrior's breathing changed. I felt the fracture in his bone knit together, the torn muscle fibers reconnecting.

I stepped back. "Move your arm."

He lifted it slowly, then faster, rotating his shoulder. His eyes widened. "It doesn't hurt."

"It will be sore tomorrow," I said. "But the break is healed."

The hall erupted in murmurs. I turned back to the Delta. "Convenient enough?"

She said nothing.

I looked at August. He was watching me with an expression I couldn't read. Then he nodded once, a small, deliberate movement.

"Any other questions?" he asked the pack.

No one spoke.

"Good," August said. "Peyton has full authority over her practice. If you need healing, you go to her. If you have concerns, you bring them to me."

He didn't use Alpha tone. He didn't need to.

The gathering resumed slowly, conversations picking up again in low voices. I stayed where I was, feeling the weight of too many eyes still on me.

Marcus appeared at my side. "You did well."

"I answered questions."

"You made them believe you."

I didn't know if that was true. But I nodded and turned to leave.

That's when I saw him.

A small boy stood in the doorway of the hall, half-hidden behind the frame. He was young—maybe eight or nine—with tawny hair and eyes too old for his face. He watched me with the careful stillness of someone who had learned not to ask for things out loud.

I stopped.

He didn't move.

I walked toward him slowly. When I reached the doorway, I crouched down so we were eye-level. "Hi."

He blinked. "Hi."

"What's your name?"

"Pixel."

I almost smiled. "That's a good name."

He looked at me for a long moment, like he was deciding something. Then he said, "Are you the new healer?"

"I am."

"Okay." He turned and walked away, his footsteps quiet on the stone floor.

I stood there, watching him disappear into the hallway.

Luna stirred. *He'll be back.*

I didn't know why, but I believed her.