After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Rose

The forest was silent except for the soft crunch of leaves beneath my feet. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting silver patterns on the ground as I knelt beside a patch of lunar herbs. Their luminescent blue petals seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the night, just as Eleanor had once shown me.

"These only bloom during the waxing moon," she had whispered, her gentle hands guiding mine. "They connect us to the Moon Goddess during the passing ceremony."

I carefully cut the stems with a silver blade, my hands trembling. Lyra whimpered inside me, our shared grief a physical ache that hadn't subsided since Eleanor's final breath three days ago.

*We should have been able to save her,* Lyra mourned.

"I know," I whispered, gathering the herbs into a small bundle. Next, I retrieved the silver thread I'd hidden in my pocket—another element Eleanor had entrusted to me months ago, as if she'd somehow known.

"The silver thread binds the spirit to the Moon Goddess," I recited, wrapping it around the herb bundle. "The lunar herbs guide the way."

The ceremonial items felt heavy in my hands, weighted with responsibility. Eleanor deserved a proper moon ceremony, one that honored her years of service as Luna. One that recognized her kindness in a pack that had grown cold under Marcus's leadership.

I made my way back through the trees, clutching the precious bundle to my chest. The pack house loomed ahead, windows ablaze with light despite the late hour. Something was happening—something I hadn't been informed of.

Lyra's hackles rose. *Something's wrong.*

I slipped through the side entrance, following the sound of voices to the ceremonial hall. Pack members filled the space, their expressions a mixture of confusion and anticipation. Marcus stood at the center, Victoria at his side, her hand possessively wrapped around his arm.

"As your Alpha," Marcus announced, his voice carrying across the hushed room, "I have decided that my mother's moon ceremony will be postponed."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. I froze, the ceremonial bundle clutched tightly against my chest.

"Instead," he continued, his eyes gleaming with an emotion I couldn't place, "tomorrow at dawn, we will celebrate Victoria's marking ceremony. It is time she took her rightful place as Luna of the Shadowcrest Pack."

Victoria's smile was radiant, triumphant. Her eyes found mine across the room, a flash of malice in their depths before she turned her adoring gaze back to Marcus.

"My mother would have wanted us to move forward," Marcus declared, though the slight tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty. "The pack must always come first."

Lyra snarled inside me, her rage matching my own. *Liar! Eleanor is not even cold, and he dishonors her memory!*

I stood rooted to the spot as pack members began to disperse, some casting uncomfortable glances my way. No one spoke to me—no one dared to acknowledge the mate of their Alpha, even one as thoroughly rejected as I was.

Beta James was noticeably absent. I wondered if he even knew what his brother had planned.

---

Dawn broke with cruel brightness. I hadn't slept, spending the night clutching Eleanor's ceremonial bundle and fighting back tears of rage and grief. The sound of excited voices and movement outside drew me to my window.

The pack had gathered in the central clearing, dressed in their finest clothes. Marcus stood tall, addressing them with grand gestures, Victoria beaming at his side in a white dress adorned with silver embroidery—traditional marking ceremony attire.

"Before Victoria receives my mark," Marcus called out, his voice carrying to where I stood watching, "we will honor her with the traditional pack run!"

Cheers erupted as pack members began to strip, shifting into their wolf forms in a cascade of magic and movement. Marcus transformed first—his massive black wolf form towering over the others, his Alpha aura pulsing with dominance. Victoria followed, her small brown wolf form pressing against his side.

I clutched Eleanor's ceremonial bundle tighter as I made my way down to the clearing. The few remaining human-form pack members parted before me, their expressions a mixture of pity and discomfort.

Victoria's wolf caught sight of me and deliberately rubbed against Marcus, marking him with her scent. Her wolf eyes gleamed with malicious triumph.

"Look at our Luna-to-be," someone whispered loudly enough for me to hear. "So much more fitting than the rejected one."

Another voice joined in. "At least she can give the Alpha pups. Not like the barren one."

Lyra howled in anguish inside me, the pain of our losses—our pups, our mate bond, and now Eleanor—threatening to bring me to my knees. But I stood firm, Eleanor's bundle pressed to my heart, as the pack began their celebratory run.

Marcus's wolf paused briefly, his amber eyes meeting mine across the clearing. For a moment, I thought I saw something—regret? Confusion? But then Victoria nipped playfully at his flank, and he turned away, leading the pack into the forest with a triumphant howl.

I remained alone in the clearing, clutching all that remained of the woman who had been more mother to me than Luna, while her son ran to celebrate her replacement.

The wind shifted, carrying a familiar scent—old parchment, cedar, and mountain air. I turned to find Beta James watching from the edge of the trees, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with a storm of emotions that mirrored my own.