Rejected, But Independent

# CHAPTER THREE

I couldn't sleep. The conversation with Sage about the Lunar Dominance Trial kept replaying in my head, along with the image of my vandalized room. After tossing and turning for hours, I finally gave up and slipped out of bed. The academy library would be quiet this late, and I desperately needed to clear my mind.

The massive oak doors creaked as I pushed them open. Moonlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting colorful shadows across the ancient tomes. I wandered deeper, past the main study area toward the restricted section. The scent of old paper and leather bindings calmed my frayed nerves.

I was reaching for a book on werewolf traditions when I collided with something solid—no, someone. Strong hands gripped my waist, steadying me before I could fall.

"Careful, little wolf," a deep voice murmured.

I looked up into the most dangerously beautiful face I'd ever seen. Zane Blackthorne. The playboy Alpha of Westreach. His dark hair fell in careless waves, and his eyes—a startling amber-gold—gleamed with predatory interest.

He didn't release me. Instead, he inhaled deeply near my neck, his nose brushing against my pulse point.

"You smell like innocence and pain," he said, his voice a rough caress. "My favorite combination."

I tried to step back, but the bookshelf blocked my retreat. Zane moved closer, effectively caging me with his body.

"I've made a decision about you, Aria Blackwood," he said, studying my face with unsettling intensity. "You belong to me."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "I don't belong to anyone."

His laugh was soft and dangerous. "Not yet." He traced my jawline with calloused fingers, the touch sending unwanted shivers down my spine. "But once I claim you—and I will claim you—no one else will ever touch you again. Not your faithless mate Kaelen, not that strategic bastard Damon, and certainly not Lucian with his shadows and secrets."

The crude certainty in his voice terrified me—and yet, something about his raw possessiveness sent heat curling through my stomach. I hated my body's reaction almost as much as I hated his arrogance.

"Move," I demanded, pushing against his chest.

To my surprise, he stepped back immediately, though his eyes never left mine.

"I always get what I want, little wolf," he said, his smile sharp enough to cut. "The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for both of us."

He walked away, disappearing into the shadows between bookshelves, leaving me shaken and confused by my own conflicting emotions.

---

The next morning, I found a leather-bound journal on my desk. The cover was buttery soft, embossed with intricate silver designs that reminded me of the night sky. A note in elegant handwriting was tucked inside:

*For your thoughts, which I suspect are far more interesting than you let others see. - D.A.*

Damon Ashford. Despite everything, I felt a smile tugging at my lips. The gift was thoughtful, unexpectedly personal. I ran my fingers over the smooth pages, already imagining filling them with my innermost thoughts.

As I dressed for class, I noticed dark bruises forming on my upper arms—perfect imprints of fingers. Zane's territorial marking. Any wolf who saw them would know another Alpha had put his hands on me. I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt, burning with equal parts embarrassment and anger.

In the dining hall at lunch, I felt eyes on me from every direction. Kaelen sat with his Southmire pack members, his gaze never leaving me, hands clenched into fists on the table. Damon nodded politely from across the room, surrounded by his academic allies. Zane lounged with his rowdy followers, winking when he caught me looking.

But it was the solitary figure in the darkest corner that drew my attention most. Lucian Ravencrest sat alone, a book open beside his untouched food. Unlike the others, he made no pretense of not watching me. When our eyes met, he held my gaze with unsettling intensity, then raised his glass in a silent toast.

Something pulled at me—an inexplicable gravity drawing me toward his mysterious darkness. I looked away first, unsettled by my own reaction.

---

"Miss Blackwood, please take a seat."

Headmaster Grimwald's office was imposing—walls lined with ancient texts and ceremonial weapons. The stern older wolf gestured to the chair across from his massive desk.

"Do you know why you've been summoned?" he asked, steepling his fingers.

I shook my head, though I had my suspicions.

"Astral Crest Institute maintains certain... traditions," he began, his tone formal. "Traditions that many consider outdated, but which our council insists upon preserving. One such tradition concerns virgin students who attract significant Alpha attention."

My stomach dropped. "The Lunar Dominance Trial."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "You're informed. Good. Then you understand the gravity of your situation." He opened a folder on his desk. "I have received four formal petitions for your hand."

Four? I'd expected three at most.

"Alpha Kaelen Voss claims mate right, though his petition acknowledges breach of fidelity." Grimwald's tone remained neutral. "Alpha Damon Ashford proposes strategic alliance. Alpha Zane Blackthorne declares—" he cleared his throat, "—conquest intent."

I flinched at the barbaric terminology.

"Most surprisingly," Grimwald continued, "Alpha Lucian Ravencrest has also filed a petition." He tapped a sealed document. "Though his petition remains sealed even to me. Highly unusual."

The room seemed to spin around me. All four Alphas? Including the Shadow Alpha?

"By academy law, you must participate in the social season leading to the Trial," Grimwald explained. "Each Alpha will have opportunities to court you formally. You should know that you can refuse the final victor only by proving yourself in single combat."

"Combat?" I echoed.

"Yes. No female student has successfully done so in over a century." His expression softened marginally. "I suggest you prepare yourself, Miss Blackwood. The games have already begun."

As I left his office, the full weight of my situation crashed down upon me. The academy I'd dreamed of attending had become a gilded cage, and I was the prize in a contest I never asked to enter.