I Reject You, Alpha

"The logging camp workers are tearing each other apart over noise complaints," Gideon snapped, tossing a thick stack of incident reports onto my desk.

"Border patrols are attacking their own shadows," another elder chimed in, stepping into my office. "Your neglect of duty is destroying this pack."

"I withdrew my magic," I answered, not looking up from the blank parchment in front of me. "I didn't cause the riots."

"You are the Luna. Fix the pup school right now," Gideon ordered, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "They are tearing the classrooms apart in a collective night terror. Go do your job."

I stood up, pushing my chair back. The elders parted as I walked out the door.

I ran to the training yard. Small wolves snarled and snapped, their eyes glazed over with panic. Desperate teachers tried to pull the frantic children apart, only to get bitten in the process.

I pushed through the iron gates. I dragged the last reserves of my Moon Wolf energy from my fading core and slammed my palms into the frozen dirt.

Silver light rippled across the yard. The chaotic energy vanished. The pups collapsed into the snow, panting and blinking away their nightmares.

I leaned against the wooden fence, wiping a thick layer of sweat from my forehead. My limbs shook.

"Vanessa’s combat drills really paid off," Lucas announced loudly to a group of older boys near the water trough. "She taught us how to hold the line during a panic."

A tiny blonde girl frowned at him. "But your mom did the magic. She saved us."

Lucas rolled his eyes. He kicked a loose rock across the dirt.

"She’s just doing her job," my son sneered. "It's what she's supposed to do."

I turned around and walked back to the Alpha estate. I didn't shed a tear. The cold wind bit my cheeks, but the ice in my chest felt absolute.

Night fell over Silverpine. I sat on my bed and dumped twelve years of medical logs onto the mattress.

I flipped through the heavy binders. Every time I absorbed lethal trauma from a pack member, the council had altered the final report.

*Patient stabilized by Alpha Damian’s command aura.*

*Pack tension resolved through the Alpha's dominant presence.*

They erased my sacrifices. They gave my husband the credit for every drop of blood I shed to keep this pack sane.

I grabbed the thickest folders and marched down the hall to Damian’s office. I pushed the heavy oak door open without knocking.

Vanessa stood behind Damian’s leather chair, wrapping a white bandage around his bare shoulder.

"If the Luna loses her wolf permanently," Vanessa murmured, smoothing her hand over his collarbone, "the pack will demand a new mate recognition ceremony. We need to be ready for the fallout."

"It is merely a political contingency," Damian replied, keeping his eyes on the paperwork on his desk.

I dropped the heavy folders onto the hardwood floor.

The loud smack made them both jump. Vanessa stepped back, lowering her head in a mock display of submission.

"Protocol to replace me?" I asked.

"Evie, we were just discussing pack security," Damian said. He pulled his shirt over his chest, his expression hardening. "Don't overreact. The Mate Bond proves you belong to me. Nothing changes that."

I kicked the folders toward his desk. Papers spilled across the rug.

"The bond lets you feel my pain," I stated, staring directly into his dark eyes. "Why, in twelve years, did you never stop to ask if it hurt?"

Damian froze. His mouth opened, but no words came out. His fingers twitched against the edge of his desk.

"You hid my medical records," I pressed, stepping closer. "You let the council credit my suffering to your aura. You felt my magic ripping my body apart, and you never said a word."

"I am the Alpha," Damian finally fired back, his voice thick with defensive anger. "I carry the weight of everyone's survival. You are my Luna. Your pain is part of the duty."

"A duty you lied about."

"A Luna cannot put personal feelings above pack interests," Damian commanded, pointing toward the door. "Clean yourself up. You are attending the Winter Solstice Council meeting in ten minutes. We will project a united front."

The council chamber smelled of burning pine and old parchment. I sat at the end of the long table, staring at the flickering candles.

"Evie’s condition is unstable," Gideon announced to the seated elders. "Her refusal to heal Vanessa yesterday proves she is a liability. I propose we strip her of all medical decision-making authority."

Vanessa stood up from the proxy seat. She placed a hand over her heart.

"Please, Elders," Vanessa pleaded, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "The Luna is just tired. I only wish to help her rest until she recovers. Do not punish her."

"The decision is final," Gideon said. He shoved the silver medical seal across the polished wood.

Vanessa picked it up. She smiled at the metal before slipping it into her pocket.

I didn't argue. I didn't defend my title. I placed my hands flat on the table and stood up.

"I invoke the ancient law," I said, my voice cutting sharply through the murmurs. "I demand a private family choice ceremony. Right now."

Gideon scowled. Damian stiffened in his chair.

"That law is for broken households," Damian warned, his eyes narrowing. "Do not make a scene, Evie."

"Bring Lucas in," I ordered the guards at the door.

Two enforcers escorted my son into the room. Lucas crossed his arms, glaring at the elders before turning his scowl on me.

I walked around the table and stopped in front of him.

"Lucas," I said softly. "Will you give up your heir status and leave Silverpine with me?"

Lucas barked out a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Leave? With you?" the boy asked, looking at me like I was insane.

"Yes."

"I am the future Alpha," Lucas spat, puffing out his chest. "You are nothing outside this house. I'm staying right here."

I reached into my pocket. My fingers brushed the carved moonstone amulet I had spent months shaping for his trial. The stone felt cold.

I left it in my pocket. I nodded once.

"Very well," I said.

I turned to face my husband. Damian watched me, his jaw set in a rigid line of absolute authority. He thought he had won. He thought my lack of options would force me back into his shadow.

"Good," I told him, keeping my chin high. "Tomorrow at midnight, I will formally reject you."

Damian slammed his hands onto the table.

"You will do no such thing!" he roared.

I didn't wait for his permission. I turned my back on the council, my husband, and my son, and walked out the door.

The heavy wood shut behind me, cutting off Damian's shouting. I walked briskly down the empty corridor, my mind racing. I had twenty-four hours to prepare for the rejection backlash.

And I needed to open the sealed envelope waiting on my pillow.