Rejected at My Own Mating Ceremony

His family waited until nearly midnight before finally leaving.

By then, the Alpha house had gone still. The fire in the front room had burned low, leaving only a faint red glow beneath the ash, and the moonstone lamps along the walls shone dimly, their pale light washed thin against the stone. The evening meal prepared for Lucian sat untouched on the table, long gone cold. His mother and aunts lingered far longer than they should have, as though their presence alone might soften the humiliation he had left behind.

But some things could not be softened.

Not when the Alpha who should have returned never did.

Before she left, Lucian’s mother took both my hands in hers. Her palms were warm, but her grip trembled. Sheena Thornfell had always been kind to me. From the first day Lucian brought me before his family, she had treated me as though my place as Luna was already decided, as though I belonged to their pack and always would.

Now there was shame in her eyes—and helplessness too.

“Do not let this sit in your heart, child,” she said quietly. “I will speak to him.”

I lowered my eyes and gave a faint nod.

After they were gone, the silence deepened.

Not long after, the family moonstone began to glow. Silver light spilled across the darkened room. When I touched it, Sheena’s tired voice came through. She said I was the only Luna she had ever acknowledged. She promised Lucian would come to his senses. She said he would apologize.

I listened without expression.

Then I set the moonstone aside.

I had no desire for empty assurances.

I only sent back a brief reply that I was occupied.

After that, I sat alone, listening to the wind brush against the shutters. The Alpha house felt strangely hollow. For years, I had shaped my life around Lucian’s presence. I used to wait for his footsteps, for his scent drifting into the room, for the careless way he would loosen his collar and ask what I had prepared for supper.

That night, I waited for none of it.

When dawn came, I rose before first light.

I washed in cold water, dressed in silence, and braided my hair with steady hands. Then I lit the hearth myself and prepared a simple breakfast I barely touched. My body moved by habit, though my heart no longer followed.

By the time the eastern sky began to pale, I was already on my way to the administrative hall.

The pack territory was only just waking. Warriors changed watch at the gates, their spears catching the gray light. Omegas crossed the courtyard with baskets of bread and bundles of herbs. Young wolves hurried along the stone paths, cloaks pulled tight against the cold.

Everything looked the same.

Only I had changed.

I buried myself in work. Patrol reports from the southern border. Winter supply counts. Ledgers waiting for my seal. I kept my hands busy so my thoughts would remain quiet.

For the most part, they did.

Then, just before midday, a summons came from the High Steward.

I knew why before I even entered.

The post in Drelantia had already been offered to me twice.

It was no punishment, no exile—only an opportunity. Drelantia lay at the eastern borders, where multiple packs met for trade and diplomacy. It was difficult, but honorable. Anyone who served there well returned with rank and influence.

I had refused it before.

Each time, I gave the same answer.

My life was here.

And once, that had been true.

Lucian had already promised our mating before the pack. Once we were bonded, there would be ceremonies, shared duties, and perhaps pups of our own. I had imagined that future so often that I had shaped my life around it without realizing how much I was giving away.

The High Steward looked up when I entered.

“Have you truly decided against Drelantia?” she asked. “This is the last time I will offer it.”

I stood in silence.

Sunlight slanted through the tall windows, falling across sealed records and rolled parchments. On her desk lay the transfer papers, already prepared.

Two years.

Only two years.

A short time in a wolf’s life.

Yet long enough to change everything.

Lucian had never wanted me to leave. He said mates should not live apart. He said distance weakened bonds. Back then, I thought his words were tender.

Now I saw them clearly.

He wanted me near—only when it suited him.

I suddenly understood how much I had already given up.

I refused distant posts.

I turned down promotions.

I changed my duties to return home early and prepare his meals myself.

I had bent my entire life around him.

And in the end, none of it mattered.

The realization came without tears.

Only stillness.

“I’ll go,” I said.

The High Steward looked surprised, then satisfied. She pushed the parchment forward.

“Everything is ready. You only need to sign.”

I picked up the pen and wrote my name without hesitation.

“You leave on the ninth of next month,” she said.

I counted the days silently.

Less than twenty.

That was enough.

There was much to settle before then, and I had no wish to waste another moment entangled with Lucian Thornfell and Rosalie Winfield.

I would leave on the appointed day.

And on that same day—

I would end everything between the Alpha and his Luna.