After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Found My Wolf

The training ground stretched before me, a wide expanse of dirt and sweat under the harsh morning sun. I stood at the edge, my body still aching from yesterday's hospital stay, watching as pack members paired off for self-defense drills.

"Ella." Michaela's voice slid over me like oil on water. "You're with me today."

I turned slowly, meeting her perfect smile. Even after the fire, she looked flawless—not a single burn or scrape marring her golden skin. Her Alpha aura radiated around her like a halo, making other wolves instinctively step back.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said quietly.

"Oh, but it is." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. "After all, a Luna should be able to defend herself, shouldn't she?"

Before I could respond, she grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin as she dragged me to the center of the training ground. The other pack members stopped their drills, forming a loose circle around us.

"Watch carefully," Michaela announced to the group. "I'm going to show our Luna some proper defensive techniques."

My stomach twisted with dread. This wasn't going to be a lesson—it was going to be a public execution of what little dignity I had left.

"Ready position," she commanded, shoving me into a defensive stance.

I barely had time to raise my arms before she lunged. Her movement was fluid, practiced—a natural predator. I tried to dodge, but my human reflexes were too slow.

The impact sent me sprawling face-first into the mud. The cold earth filled my nose and mouth as I gasped for breath.

"Luna Hawkins needs to work on her balance," Michaela announced to the snickering crowd.

I pushed myself up on trembling arms, mud dripping from my hair and clothes. "I'm fine," I lied, wiping dirt from my face.

"You're pathetic," she hissed, then louder for the audience: "Again!"

This time when she struck, something different happened. Instead of just physical force, I felt it—the crushing weight of her Alpha aura pressing down on me like a physical thing.

My knees buckled instantly. My body slammed back into the mud, harder than before.

"Oh dear," Michaela said with mock concern as she knelt beside me. Her lips brushed my ear as she whispered, "A Luna who can't shift is just a pet. And you're not even cute enough for that."

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The aura held me pinned like a butterfly to a board.

Through the haze of pain and humiliation, I saw him—Ethan standing at the edge of the circle, watching. Our eyes met for one terrible moment.

He turned away.

---

Back in my room, I locked the door and collapsed against it, sliding down until I hit the floor. Mud still clung to my skin, but the dirt was nothing compared to the filth of their words.

"You're weak. You're broken. You're nothing without your wolf."

The voice in my head wasn't mine. It was theirs—all of them. Everyone who'd ever looked at me and seen only what I lacked.

With shaking hands, I pulled open my dresser drawer and reached for the small bottle hidden beneath my clothes. The wolfsbane suppressants rattled softly as I pulled out the vial.

"Just a little more," I whispered to myself. "Just enough to shock her awake."

My wolf—the one who'd never emerged, never protected me, never loved me back.

I uncorked the bottle and swallowed three pills dry. Then three more. Then five.

"If I kill this part of me," I whispered to the empty room, "maybe you'll finally wake up."

The effect hit faster than I expected. My vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges. My stomach twisted into knots as poison spread through my system.

I stumbled to the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet as my body rebelled. Violent retching tore through me, bringing up bile and bitterness.

"Wake up," I sobbed between heaves. "Please wake up."

Nothing happened.

No wolf emerged to heal me. No power surged through my veins. Just pain—pure, undiluted agony as the wolfsbane burned through my system.

I curled into a ball on the cold tile floor, shivering uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," I whispered to my absent wolf. "I'm trying so hard."

---

Three days later, I sat in the infirmary, watching Dr. Sarah type up her report.

"Your blood work looks a bit strange," she muttered, frowning at her screen. "Some unusual compounds I can't quite identify."

My heart stopped. She knew.

"Probably nothing," I said quickly. "Just... stress."

She nodded absently, turning back to her computer. "I'll note that you're still showing delayed shifting markers. Progress is slow but steady."

As soon as she left to speak with another patient, I moved. My hands shook as I accessed the filing system, pulling up my records.

With careful precision, I altered the blood work results, deleting any mention of wolfsbane compounds. I added positive notes about hormone changes consistent with early shifting preparation.

No one could know. Especially not Ethan.

If he discovered what I'd done—that I was poisoning myself to force my wolf awake—he'd have all the ammunition he needed to declare me unfit.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I typed the final line: "Patient showing promising signs of imminent first shift."

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.