Rejected by Alpha Mate

The steady beep of the heart monitor punctuated the silence of the Silverstone Pack infirmary. I lay motionless on the narrow cot, every breath sending sharp pains through my bandaged torso. Three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and claw marks that would leave permanent scars—the price I'd paid for jumping between Mason and that rogue wolf's attack.

My wolf, Emma, paced restlessly in my mind. *He hasn't come. Our mate hasn't come to see us.*

"He's busy," I whispered, my voice barely audible even to my own enhanced hearing. "The pack needs him after the attack."

*We need him,* Emma whimpered, her howls echoing faintly through my consciousness. *Something's wrong. I can feel it.*

I closed my eyes, trying to silence her concerns. Six years I'd served as Mason's unofficial Beta, his secret mate, his shadow. Six years of waiting for him to acknowledge our bond publicly. Six years of hope slowly dying, one day at a time.

The infirmary door creaked open, and my heart leapt painfully against my broken ribs. But it wasn't Mason. Just two Omega nurses entering for the night shift, their voices hushed as they moved to the station across the room, unaware that my enhanced hearing could pick up every word.

"Did you see Alpha Mason last night?" the younger one whispered, excitement threading through her voice. "With Victoria Rivera?"

My body went rigid, pain forgotten as Emma suddenly went still, listening intently.

"Again?" the older nurse replied. "That's the third midnight meeting this week."

"They weren't just meeting." The younger nurse's voice dropped further. "They were in his private study, and she was practically in his lap. Talking about 'making arrangements' and 'the future Luna ceremony.'"

The monitor beside me betrayed my racing heart, beeping faster.

"Poor Charlotte," the older nurse sighed. "Six years as his personal assistant, and he's going to choose Victoria as his Luna instead. Everyone knows Charlotte's his true mate—you can smell it on them both."

"Victoria's been telling everyone that Mason's going to reject Charlotte formally at the next full moon. Says he needs a 'politically advantageous match' instead of a 'nobody with a broken family.'"

Their voices faded as they moved toward the supply closet, but the damage was done. Emma howled in anguish, the sound reverberating through my entire being. My vision blurred with unshed tears as I stared at the sterile white ceiling.

*He wouldn't,* Emma whimpered. *He can't reject us. We're his mate. We've given everything.*

The door opened again, and this time Elara, our elderly pack Healer, slipped in. Her normally calm face was drawn with worry as she approached my bed, glancing nervously at the door before pulling a chair close.

"Charlotte," she whispered, her weathered hand finding mine. "How much pain are you in, child?"

"It doesn't matter," I replied, my voice hollow. "When can I return to work? Alpha Mason will need the quarterly territory reports by—"

"Charlotte." Elara's grip tightened, stopping my words. "There's something you need to know."

She reached into her pocket with trembling fingers and withdrew a small cloth, pale fabric stained with dried blood. My blood. I stared at it, uncomprehending, until Elara's next words shattered what remained of my world.

"You were carrying a pup," she whispered, tears gathering in her ancient eyes. "The impact from protecting Alpha Mason... the stress of the attack... I couldn't save it. Your first child is gone."

The room spun around me as Emma's howl turned into a keening wail of grief that threatened to tear me apart from within. A child. Mason's heir. Gone before I even knew it existed.

"Does he know?" I asked, my voice breaking on the words.

Elara shook her head. "He hasn't come to see you once in three days. I couldn't tell him without breaking healer confidentiality."

I closed my eyes, a single tear escaping to trace a path down my temple. Six years of loyalty. Six years of love. A lost child he would never know about. And all the while, he had been planning to replace me with Victoria—my own stepsister, who had tormented me since childhood.

As the moonlight filtered through the infirmary windows, illuminating the bloodstained cloth in Elara's hand, something inside me hardened. Emma's grief transformed into something darker, colder.

*We deserved better,* she growled, no longer the submissive wolf who had accepted scraps of affection for years. *We deserved to be cherished.*

For the first time in six years, I found myself agreeing with her completely.