Happy Rejection, My Alpha

The line was still warm in my hand when I heard my father’s voice. His tone carried the weariness of a wolf who had howled through a thousand lonely nights, the kind of exhaustion that seeps into marrow and lingers like frost. Yet beneath it, there was a calm I hadn’t heard in decades.

“Come home, Stella,” he said, his voice roughened by age and silence. “I’ve been waiting for you for twenty years.”

Twenty years. Two decades of empty seasons. Of full moons where I stood alone, my wolf restless but shackled. Of battles I had fought in silence, my pride too sharp, my heart too wounded, my spirit too broken to return.

My knees threatened to give way, but instead of collapsing, I sank to the edge of the bed and let the tears fall freely, hot rivers cutting through years of restraint.

“I’m coming home,” I whispered, my voice no louder than a ghost brushing across the wind.

There was no further word from him, only the sound of his breathing, steady, real, grounding me like the heartbeat of a pack I had long abandoned. I hung up before I could weaken, before I could whisper a goodbye I wasn’t ready to say.

The door creaked open, and that was when Alpha Shawn appeared, sliding into the room like a shadow that had always belonged there. His scent hit me before his words, bitter wine laced with deceit, the musk of a wolf who had long since traded loyalty for ambition. His eyes locked on mine, cold and calculating, nostrils flaring like he could already scent the truth clinging to my skin.

“I know you saw the tickets,” he said, his smirk slicing like a blade across my already raw nerves. Six only. Me. Marga. Mark. Lydia. The twins. That’s it.”

My throat tightened, but I forced myself to swallow past it.

“You were never included,” he continued, his voice dropping into that dead calm, sharp as winter ice cracking beneath one’s feet.

Then came the mockery, his promise wrapped in poison. “When I get back, I’ll buy you a diamond set. Take you to Hawaii.” As if trinkets and faraway shores could mask the truth. As if he thought I could be distracted like some desperate she-wolf begging for scraps of affection.

He turned his back on me without another glance, leaving behind nothing but the faint musk of arrogance and the slam of the door, a sound that felt more coffin than closure.

The next morning, I moved like a ghost through the kitchen, preparing omelets, bacon, and toast. The scent rose sharply in the air, almost mocking me with the illusion of family. From the living room, the twins’ laughter rang out, high and wild, like wolf pups on a first hunt.

“This cruise is the biggest ever!” Mark howled. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

Their voices were innocent, bright, but cruel in their ignorance.

Marga soon arrived, her arms laden with takeout bags. She dropped them onto the counter with a deliberate thud, her smirk flashing like a wolf baring her teeth.

“I don’t like Stella’s cooking,” she announced, loud enough to echo. “It’s like chewing on cardboard, or swallowing salt straight from the shaker. Bland. Over-salted. Completely uninspired. Just like her.”

Her words hit like claws raking across my ribs. The twins giggled. Lydia leaned in, her grin sharp.

“Honestly, Mum, it’s sad. You cook like you’re punishing us. Like every burnt edge is your little rebellion. But we see right through you.”

Invisible, I faded into the background, a shadow in my own home. Their words stripped me down until only bones remained. Still, I clenched my jaw, swallowing the bitterness before it could burn my tongue.

Then Alpha Shawn’s voice cut through the room like a whip.

“Where’s my wallet?” His eyes snapped to me instantly, burning with suspicion. “You’re hiding it, aren’t you? Always hiding. Hiding from respect, hiding from responsibility. Useless. Jealous. Nothing.”

I shook my head, but he didn’t wait for the truth. His hand lashed out across my face with a crack that echoed like a breaking bone. My head snapped sideways, blood flooding my nose. The world spun. My wolf stirred within me, howling in pain, clawing at the cage I had built around her all these years.

I crumpled to the cold tiles, the scent of iron filling the air.

Marga’s gasp was sweet poison. “Oh, Alpha,” she purred, pulling his wallet from her bag with a smirk only I saw. “I must have taken it by mistake. How clumsy of me.”

The trap was perfect. The humiliation is complete.

They gathered their bags, voices light and cruel.

“Don’t worry, Mum, I’ll bring you a fridge magnet,” Mark said.

“And I’ll bring you a keychain,” Lydia added.

“We’ll bring you dirty laundry, Grandma,” the twins howled, their laughter cutting deeper than claws.

The slam of the door left behind a silence so sharp it felt alive.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I simply rose, went to my room, dropped to my knees, and dragged out the old bag I had hidden long ago. My hands moved steadily, deliberately. I packed only what mattered. The rest could rot with them.

At the airport, my phone buzzed.

Guard the house while we’re gone. We’ll be out for a week. Don’t mess anything up.

Another message followed instantly.

Sorry, I slapped you. But you provoked me. If only you weren’t always so damn jealous. You ruin things for yourself.

I stared at the words, and something inside me, something wild, something ancient, finally snapped free. I blocked his number, deleted the thread, and slid the phone into my pocket.

The smile that curved my lips wasn’t joy. It was the wolf inside me, stirring for the first time in years, baring her teeth in savage clarity.

I was done guarding a house that had never been a home.

I was going back to the only place that ever was.

Back to the pack. Back to blood. Back to the forest where my name still lived.

Home.