My Mate Tore Up Our Baby’s Ultrasound Before Rejecting Me

I didn't sleep.

After the Banquet ended, I walked back to the Luna quarters through the empty pack house hallways. My quarters. Not Cruz's. He'd moved into the Alpha suite three years ago and never looked back.

I sat on the edge of my bed until dawn, watching the window lighten from black to grey. Cinder paced in my head, restless and snarling. She wanted blood. I wanted clarity.

By the time the sun came up, I had both.

I showered, dressed in plain jeans and a sweater, and walked to the Alpha suite. The guards at the door stepped aside without a word. They always did. I was still Luna, even if no one acted like it.

I pushed the door open.

Cruz stood by the window, shirtless, his back to me. Amber sat on the edge of his bed, wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. Her legs were bare, crossed at the ankle, and her blonde hair fell over one shoulder in a way that looked calculated.

Cruz's head was bent toward her neck. His nose brushed the curve where her shoulder met her throat. His canines were out, white and sharp, grazing the skin just above her collarbone.

Amber's eyes flicked to me. She smiled.

Cruz pulled back slowly. Not with guilt. Not with surprise. Just annoyance.

"Close the door on your way out," he said. He didn't turn around.

I stood there for three seconds. Long enough to memorize the scene. Long enough for Cinder to stop pacing and go completely, utterly still.

Then I left.

I walked down the main staircase to the great hall. Morning light poured through the tall windows. The ranked wolves were gathering for the weekly pack run, milling around in clusters, pulling on gloves and lacing boots. Beta Garrett stood near the fireplace, talking to Gamma Holt. A handful of Deltas leaned against the long table, laughing about something.

Rafe was there. The one from last night. His wrist was wrapped in a brace.

I walked toward the center of the hall. Conversations didn't stop. No one looked up. I was used to that.

Rafe stepped into my path.

"Morning, Luna," he said, drawing out the word like he had last night. "Heading somewhere? Or should I escort you back to your kennel?"

The Deltas behind him snickered.

I didn't answer. I pulled my phone from my pocket, scrolled to a contact I'd saved years ago and never called, and tapped the number.

Rafe frowned. "What are you—"

I hit speakerphone.

The room went quiet. Not all at once. It spread like a wave, starting with the wolves closest to me and rippling outward until even Garrett stopped mid-sentence and turned.

The line rang once. Twice.

Then a voice answered. Deep. Smooth. Ancient.

"Brianna."

I didn't know how Lycan King Marcellus Woods knew my name. I'd never spoken to him before. But the way he said it—calm, certain, like he'd been waiting—made my spine straighten.

"Your Majesty," I said. My voice was steady. "I'm requesting Lycan authority to enforce a mate-bond rejection."

Silence on the other end. Not empty. Weighted.

Rafe's face went white. Behind him, one of the Deltas took a step back. Garrett's hand froze halfway to his jacket pocket.

Marcellus spoke again. Two words.

"I'm coming."

The line went dead.

The hall stayed silent. I could feel it now, even through the severed connection—Lycan aura, distant but crushing, like a storm rolling in from miles away. It pressed against my chest, made my wolf bare her teeth in instinctive submission. Around me, every wolf in the hall felt it too. Shoulders hunched. Eyes dropped. No one moved.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and looked at Rafe. He was staring at the floor, his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

I walked past him. He didn't stop me.

Footsteps thundered on the stairs. Cruz stormed into the hall, half-dressed, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair still a mess. Garrett must have mind-linked him. Cruz's eyes swept the room, landing on the frozen wolves, then on me.

"What the hell did you do?" His voice cracked with Alpha tone, but it didn't land the way it should have. The pressure from the phone call was still there, invisible and suffocating, drowning out his authority.

I met his eyes. I didn't flinch. I didn't explain.

I just stood there, alone in the center of the hall, surrounded by his wolves who wouldn't look at me and his Beta who wouldn't speak.

Cruz took a step forward. Then stopped.

Because for the first time in five years, I wasn't the one who looked small.