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After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Became Lycan Queen Novel Cover

After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Became Lycan Queen

Cast out by her fated mate, Alpha Kael, for a more powerful rival, Elara is abandoned in the lethal forbidden woods. However, her exile leads to a rescue by King Alaric, the legendary Lycan leader. Alaric identifies Elara as the prophesied Lycan Queen, awakening her dormant ancient lineage. Now, Elara must master her newfound strength to rule at his side, seeking retribution against her former pack while embracing a deep, transformative love.
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Chapter 2

The morning sun cast long shadows across the town square as I was led to the center platform. My wrists were bound with silver chains—not enough to burn, but enough to remind everyone of my wolfless status. A week had passed since Knox's rejection, and the hollow ache in my chest had only grown deeper.

"Attention, pack members!" Izabella's voice rang out, her crimson dress a splash of blood against the gray stone. "Today, we witness the culmination of our pack's artistic achievement—and a necessary lesson in humility."

I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, refusing to meet the stares of the gathered crowd. Many faces I recognized—wolves who had once smiled at me, shared meals with me, now watching with expressions ranging from curiosity to disgust.

"Our beloved Alpha has graciously allowed me to use his... former mate... as my model," Izabella continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Since she cannot contribute to our pack through hunting or patrol, she will prove her worth in this small way."

My stomach churned. The morning sickness I'd been experiencing made it difficult to stand upright, but I forced myself to remain steady. My hand instinctively moved toward my abdomen, but I stopped it before anyone could notice.

"Knox," Izabella purred, turning to him with a practiced smile. "Would you do the honors?"

He stepped forward, his face a mask of indifference I barely recognized. The boy who had once shared his last piece of bread with me was gone, replaced by this cold stranger wearing his face.

"Averie," he said, his voice taking on that resonant quality that made my knees weak. "As Alpha, I command you to remove your clothing."

The Alpha command hit me like a physical blow. My fingers moved against my will, fumbling with the buttons of my blouse. I fought against it with everything I had, but without my wolf to shield me, I was powerless.

"No," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. "Please don't do this."

Knox's expression flickered for just a moment—something like regret passing across his features before disappearing entirely. "The command stands."

The crowd fell silent as my blouse dropped to the floor, followed by my skirt. The cool morning air raised goosebumps across my skin as I stood there, exposed and vulnerable before dozens of eyes.

Izabella circled me slowly, her brushes and paints laid out on a nearby table. "Perfect," she murmured. "The ultimate canvas—the barren she-wolf."

She dipped her brush into a mixture of red and black paint, approaching me with a predator's smile. "Hold still, little Omega. This will only hurt for a moment."

The paint felt cold against my skin as she began to mark me with symbols of fertility and barrenness—ancient wolf signs of shame and rejection. The crowd's murmurs grew louder as she worked, some laughing at her "artistic" interpretation, others shifting uncomfortably at the display.

"Look at her," Izabella announced to the crowd. "This is what happens when the Moon Goddess rejects a vessel. Useless. Empty." Her eyes gleamed with malice as she painted a symbol of death across my abdomen. "Some might say this one was never meant to carry life."

Each word was a dagger to my heart. I wanted to scream that I was pregnant—that despite everything, life still grew within me. But the words died in my throat as a wave of pain washed over me.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

The cramping started as a dull ache, but quickly intensified into something that brought me to my knees. Warm liquid trickled down my thighs as I collapsed onto the platform.

"Knox," I gasped, reaching out blindly. "The baby..."

The crowd erupted in whispers as blood pooled beneath me, staining the white platform crimson. Through my tears, I saw Knox's face—shock replacing his cold mask as realization dawned.

Izabella stepped back, her painting forgotten as she stared at the scene before her. For once, her composure slipped, revealing something like horror beneath her cruelty.

"She's losing it," someone whispered. "The Alpha's pup."

"Get the healer!" another voice called out.

But Izabella recovered quickly, her lips curling into a smirk as she turned to address the crowd. "Natural selection," she announced loudly. "Even the Moon Goddess knows when a vessel is unfit."

Knox stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the blood spreading beneath me. In that moment, I saw something crack behind his gaze—a flicker of the man I once knew, trapped behind walls of his own making.

But it was too late. The pain consumed me as my body betrayed me one final time, expelling the tiny life I had already come to love. As darkness crept into the edges of my vision, I heard Izabella's cold voice above me:

"Clean this up. The exhibition continues tomorrow."

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