Rejected by Alpha Mate

The full moon bathed the Pacific Northwest forest in an ethereal glow, illuminating the pine trees that stretched toward the night sky like silent sentinels. I ran with wild abandon, my paws barely touching the forest floor as I kept pace with the Moonstone Pack. For these precious moments, I could forget I was Luna Sophia Mitchell, the late-bloomer who had fought for her place. Here, in wolf form, I was simply Lyra—strong, free, and one with the night.

*Isn't this perfect?* I sent the thought through our mind-link to Alexander, whose massive black wolf form led the pack ahead of me.

His wolf, Titan, glanced back, amber eyes gleaming with affection. *Perfect because you're here, Luna.*

The warmth of his response flooded through me, and I pushed myself faster, delighting in the way the cool night air rushed through my silver-gray fur. These moments made everything worth it—the sidelong glances from pack members who still whispered about my late-bloomer status, the cold formality of Eleonora's "guidance" on being a proper Luna, the crushing responsibilities of leading a pack that had never fully accepted me.

But I had Alexander. For three years, he had been my rock, my salvation, my everything.

Lyra suddenly bristled within me, her consciousness rippling with unease.

*What is it?* I asked my wolf.

*Smell that?* she growled, her senses more acute than my human consciousness.

I lifted my muzzle, drawing in the night air. Beyond the familiar scents of pack and forest came something unexpected—pine and wild berries, wrapped in a scent that felt both foreign and strangely familiar. It was alluring yet unsettling, like a beautiful flower with thorns hidden beneath its petals.

The pack's synchronized rhythm faltered as others caught the scent too. Alexander raised his head, his powerful form going rigid. A low growl rumbled through the pack-link, his Alpha command halting our movement in an instant.

That's when she stumbled into our path.

A female wolf, her coat the color of burnished gold, emerged from between two ancient pines. She moved with unnatural slowness, her legs trembling with each step. Even in wolf form, I could see the weakness in her posture, the way her head hung low, as if it took all her strength just to remain standing.

Alexander's reaction was immediate and visceral. He bounded forward, placing himself between the stranger and our pack. But instead of the aggressive stance I expected, his massive form seemed to curl protectively around the golden wolf.

*Victoria?* His voice through the pack-link was shocked, intimate in a way that made my heart stutter.

The name hit me like a physical blow. Victoria Ashford. Alexander's childhood chosen mate before he found me—his true mate. The woman who had left for the Northern Territories years ago.

The woman who had never stopped haunting the corners of our relationship.

I watched, frozen, as the golden wolf's form began to shift. In moments, a woman knelt where the wolf had been—pale, slender, with flowing auburn hair that caught the moonlight like living flame. Even in obvious distress, she was breathtaking.

"Alexander," she whispered, her voice carrying in the silent forest. "I found you. Finally."

Then she collapsed.

---

Hours later, I paced outside Alexander's office in our pack house, my heart a thundering drum in my chest. Victoria had been whisked away to the healing quarters, Alexander at her side, leaving me to follow behind like an afterthought.

"She's stable," Healer Corvus had announced, his eyes flickering to me with something that looked uncomfortably like pity. "But her wolf is very weak. I've never seen anything like it."

Alexander hadn't even looked at me as he nodded grimly. "Do whatever it takes."

Now, as midnight approached, I finally gathered the courage to seek out my mate. I needed reassurance, an explanation—anything to quiet the dread pooling in my stomach.

I pushed open the heavy oak door without knocking—a small assertion of my position as Luna. The words I'd prepared died on my lips.

There, in the soft glow of his desk lamp, stood Alexander and Victoria. His hands cupped her face, their foreheads pressed together in an intimacy that stole my breath. Her fingers clutched at his shirt, and the look that passed between them was one I recognized all too well—it was how he used to look at me.

"I never stopped thinking about you," Victoria whispered, her voice carrying in the silent room.

My heart shattered into a thousand jagged pieces.

*Alexander?* I pushed the thought through our mind-link, unable to force the words past my constricted throat.

He jerked away from Victoria, his eyes finding mine with a flash of guilt that quickly hardened into something colder.

*Her condition is more important than your jealousy, Luna,* came his reply, the words clipped and dismissive. Then, with a deliberate finality that felt like a slap, he severed our mind-link.

I stood there, the title of "Luna" suddenly feeling like a hollow crown on my head, as the first cracks formed in the foundation of everything I had believed to be true.