My Alpha Rejected Me for His Chosen Luna

I drifted in and out of consciousness, fragments of memory slicing through the darkness. The rejection. The blood. Julian's cold eyes as he chose Tiffany over me.

When I finally opened my eyes fully, the sterile white ceiling above me was unfamiliar. This wasn't my room in the Alpha's wing. The bed beneath me was narrow and stiff, the blanket rough against my skin.

*Where are we?* my wolf whimpered, her voice faint from the trauma of rejection.

I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my chest. Looking around, I realized I was in the servants' quarters of the pack infirmary—a far cry from the private room I'd expected.

"Look who's awake," came a sugary voice from the doorway.

Tiffany glided in, her silk robe flowing around her like water. She looked healthier than ever, her cheeks flushed with vitality that seemed stolen from me.

"You're in the Omega section," she said, her voice dripping with false concern. "The pack healer thought it best, given your... condition."

"My condition?" I managed to whisper.

She smiled, closing the door behind her. The moment we were alone, her expression changed—the sweetness melting away to reveal something cold and calculating.

"Oh, Elena," she sighed, perching on the edge of my bed. "You really didn't think it would be that easy, did you? That you could just waltz in and claim my Julian?"

"Your Julian?" My voice cracked. "He's my mate."

Tiffany laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Was your mate. Past tense." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're nothing but an obstacle now. A pathetic little Omega who can't accept reality."

"He'll realize his mistake," I said, though doubt gnawed at me.

"Will he?" Tiffany's smile widened. "I've convinced the pack that your obsession with Julian is a mental illness. That your mate-scent is a trick of witchcraft." She stroked my hair, her touch making my skin crawl. "No one believes you. No one will ever believe you."

---

Weeks passed in a blur of isolation. The pack avoided me, their eyes sliding past as if I were invisible. Noelle was my only visitor, but even she seemed nervous, glancing over her shoulder constantly.

Tonight was the mating celebration—Julian and Tiffany's official announcement to the surrounding packs. I'd been ordered to attend, though my role would be serving drinks rather than being honored.

I stood in the corner of the grand ballroom, watching pack members dance and laugh. The mansion gleamed with silver decorations and moonstone lights, everything perfect for the perfect couple.

"Elena!" Tiffany's voice cut through the music. She approached with two glasses of punch, her smile dazzling. "I brought you something."

Every instinct screamed danger, but refusing would only make things worse. I took the glass, noticing a faint green tinge to the liquid.

"A peace offering," she said loudly enough for nearby wolves to hear. "We're all pack, after all."

I sipped cautiously. The liquid tasted bitter, with an underlying sweetness that couldn't quite mask it.

"Drink up," Tiffany urged, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "It's a special blend."

Within minutes, warmth spread through my body. Then my skin began to itch, and a strange sensation bloomed in my chest—like something rotting from within.

"What did you—" I started, but stopped as a warrior nearby inhaled sharply, his eyes widening.

"Rogue!" he snarled, his voice carrying across the room.

Suddenly, every wolf in the vicinity was staring at me, nostrils flaring. I could smell it too—my sweet floral scent had turned sour, putrid. Like death.

"Run," Tiffany whispered, her eyes wide with mock fear. "They'll tear you apart."

I stumbled backward as warriors began shifting, bones cracking and reforming as they took their wolf forms. Growls filled the air as they hunted me through the mansion corridors.

I ran blindly, my damaged leg protesting with each step. The scent-masking herb made me a target—to them, I was an enemy infiltrator.

I burst into the ballroom, desperate for escape, only to find myself cornered by a circle of snarling wolves.

"Please," I begged, backing against the wall. "It's a mistake—"

A massive black wolf lunged forward, teeth bared. At the last moment, another wolf intercepted—sleek and silver, with eyes like ice.

Julian.

He shifted back to human form, his hand closing around my throat as he lifted me against the wall.

"What have you done?" he growled, his face inches from mine. "What filth have you brought into my home?"

"Julian, please," I gasped. "It was Tiffany—"

"Enough!" His grip tightened. "Your obsession ends now."

He turned to address the gathered pack, still holding me by the throat. "This Omega has proven herself unstable and dangerous to our safety."

The room fell silent as he continued, his voice carrying to every corner. "She will be confined to the servants' quarters until further notice."

Shame burned hotter than fear as he released me, letting me crumple to the floor. Through tear-blurred vision, I saw Tiffany standing behind him, her hand possessively on his arm—and the satisfaction in her eyes as she watched my humiliation.