Alpha's Rejected mate

The dungeons of the Obsidian Pack weren't actually dungeons. They were just cold, damp holding cells beneath the servant’s quarters, smelling of mildew and old fear.

I sat on the edge of the cot, my hands trembling in my lap. My ankle throbbed where the glass had sliced it, a steady thump-thump-thump that matched the erratic beating of my heart.

But the pain in my ankle was nothing compared to the fire in my blood.

Mate.

My wolf, usually a quiet, timid thing, was pacing inside my mind. She was scratching at the walls of my consciousness, whining, desperate to get back to him. To Marcel.

"He felt it," I whispered to the empty room. "I know he did."

I closed my eyes, replaying the moment. The way his pupils had blown wide, swallowing the iris. The way his scent—dark chocolate and rain had flooded my lungs, making me dizzy. The electricity that snapped when he grabbed my arm.

Alphas couldn't ignore the bond. It was biological law. It was the Moon Goddess’s will.

Maybe he was just shocked. Maybe, once the party was over, once the cameras and the dignitaries were gone, he would come down here. He would open the door, and his eyes would be soft, like they were when we were children, and he would tell me he was sorry.

creak.

The metal door at the top of the stairs groaned open.

My head snapped up.

Heavy footsteps descended the concrete stairs. Slow. Deliberate. Authoritative.

My wolf let out a sharp yip of excitement. Him.

I stood up, wincing as weight hit my bad ankle, but I straightened my spine. I tried to smooth down my stained uniform. I tried to wipe the dirt from my cheeks.

The shadow appeared first, stretching long across the floor. Then, Marcel stepped into the dim light of the cell.

He had changed. The wine-stained shirt was gone, replaced by a crisp black dress shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, muscular forearms. He looked devastatingly handsome.

He also looked like he wanted to murder someone.

"Alpha," I breathed, dipping my head in submission. It was instinct. His aura was so potent in the small space it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

He didn't speak. He just stared at me.

He stepped closer. Then closer.

He stopped inches from me. The heat coming off his body was incredible. It called to me, pulling at my naval like a hook. I wanted to lean into him. I wanted to bury my nose in his neck and breathe him in.

"Look at me," he commanded.

I lifted my gaze.

There was no softness. No apology. His eyes were hard chips of obsidian, burning with a mixture of lust and profound hatred.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly.

I blinked, confused. "My ankle?"

" The bond," he corrected, his voice rough. "Does it burn, Vanessa? Does it feel like your skin is too tight for your body? Does your wolf feel like she’s clawing her throat out just to be near me?"

"Yes," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "Yes, Marcel. It hurts."

He let out a short, humorless laugh. "Good."

I recoiled as if he’d slapped me. "What?"

"You think this is a gift?" He took a step forward, forcing me to back up until my shoulders hit the cold concrete wall. He caged me in, placing a hand on the wall beside my head. He didn't touch me, but the proximity was suffocating. "You think because the Goddess played a cruel joke, that I’m suddenly going to forget who you are?"

"I’m your mate," I said, my voice shaking but firm. "I’m your equal."

"You are a servant!" he roared.

The sound bounced off the walls, making me flinch. My wolf whimpered, tucking her tail.

"You are a scrub girl," Marcel snarled, leaning down so his face was level with mine. "You have no lineage. No power. Your parents were rogue trash that my father took in out of pity. And you think you’re fit to be Luna of the Obsidian Pack?"

"It’s not about power," I cried. "It’s about the bond! You can't fight it, Marcel. It will drive you mad."

"Watch me."

He reached out then, his hand wrapping around my throat.

He didn't squeeze. He didn't cut off my air. But the contact was electric. A gasp ripped from my throat, my eyes fluttering shut. Sparks, hot and addictive, danced across my skin where his fingers lay.

"See?" I panted, my body betraying me. I leaned into his hand. "You feel it too."

Marcel’s breath hitched. For a second just a fraction of a second his thumb caressed the pulse point of my neck. I felt his resistance crumble. I felt his wolf pushing forward, wanting to claim, wanting to mark.

He lowered his head. His lips brushed the shell of my ear.

"I feel it," he murmured, his voice sounding like gravel. "I feel the urge to take you right here on this dirty floor. To mark you until everyone knows you belong to me."

My knees went weak. "Marcel..."

"But," he pulled back sharply, his hand dropping from my throat as if I were toxic waste. The coldness slammed back into his eyes, worse than before. "I am not an animal, Vanessa. I am an Alpha. And I choose my destiny. I do not let a biological itch dictate my future."

I stared at him, horror dawning on me. "You... you’re going to reject me?"

"I can't have a weak Luna," he said, straightening his cuffs, looking at me with cold calculation. "I need an alliance. I need Mia. Her father controls the southern trade routes. Marrying her secures the pack’s future."

"Mia?" I choked out. "She’s cruel. She’s selfish. She doesn't love you!"

"She is suitable," Marcel said flatly.

"The pack will know," I argued, desperate now. "They’ll smell me on you. They’ll know I’m your true mate."

"No, they won't."

Marcel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver vial. He tossed it onto the cot.

"Drink that."

I looked at the vial. The liquid inside was a murky purple. "What is it?"

"Wolfsbane mixed with a scent-blocker," he said. "It will dull the bond. It will stop your wolf from calling to mine. And it will hide your scent from the pack."

"You want me to poison myself?" I looked at him in disbelief. "Marcel, wolfsbane hurts. It burns."

"It’s better than the alternative," he said darkly.

"Which is?"

"Death."

He wasn't joking. I could see it in the set of his jaw. He was threatened by me. He was threatened by what I made him feel.

"I won't do it," I whispered. "I won't hide who I am."

Marcel’s eyes flashed. The air around him shimmered with Alpha command.

"You will do as I say."

The voice wasn't his human voice. It was the Alpha Voice. It slammed into my brain, forcing my muscles to lock up, forcing my wolf to bare her neck in submission.

My body moved without my permission. I stumbled toward the cot. My hand reached out, shaking violently, and picked up the vial.

"Please," I sobbed, fighting the command with everything I had. "Marcel, please don't make me do this."

He watched me, his face a mask of stone. But his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, shaking. He was fighting it too. He was using every ounce of his will to crush the instinct to comfort me.

"Drink it," he ordered. "And tomorrow morning, you will stand before the pack, and you will witness my engagement to Mia. You will serve the wine. And you will smile."

"I hate you," I whispered, uncorking the vial.

"Good," Marcel said, turning his back on me.

I brought the vial to my lips. The smell was acrid.

I downed it.

Pain, sharp and immediate, tore through my stomach. It felt like swallowing liquid fire. I gagged, dropping the vial, clutching my stomach as my knees hit the floor. My wolf screamed in agony as the connection to the moon—and to Marcel was forcibly dampened.

I curled into a ball on the concrete, gasping for air.

Marcel paused at the door. He didn't look back.

"Stay here tonight," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "If you try to leave, the guards have orders to shoot. Just because you’re my mate doesn't mean you’re immortal, Vanessa."

The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

I lay on the freezing floor, the poison burning through my veins, while the man I loved walked away to plan a future with another woman.

But as the darkness began to take me, I realized something.

He hadn't rejected me yet. Not formally. Not with the words.

He was afraid. He was afraid if he said the words 'I reject you', the bond would snap and kill us both.

He was trying to bury it.

But nothing stays buried forever. especially not this.