Rejected by her Alpha Chosen By the Moon

New companion

Myra's POV

I stared at him.

The man in the doorway seemed too tall for the little shack he stood in, with shoulders that nearly brushed the sides.

He didn’t move for a while, he just stood there, staring at me.

I tensed up, felt my heart hammering in my ears.

He was not of pack. He was a godforsaken rogue.

Every story I'd ever heard about rogues screamed in my head. Beasts in human skin. Savage beings who had lost their humanity.

Unstable. Dangerous.

He stepped forward. My instincts screamed to run, but my legs refused to obey. My body was still wrecked from the night before, muscles sore and bruised, the fever still tugging at the edge of my vision.

"You’re awake," he said. His voice was rough, like gravel. He sounded unusually calm, something about him reminded me of a mountain.

I forced myself upright, back pressed to the bedpost the thin blanket clutched to my chest.

"What do you want?" My voice cracked, my throat still ached.

He ignored the question. Turned slightly, walked to the corner, and returned with a bowl. He uncovered it, steam floated above it bringing a sudden delicious aroma.

It was food. The scent hit me hard, broth and meat. My stomach growled loudly, traitorous and desperate.

He held the bowl out.

I didn’t move. "No."

He arched a brow. "You’re hungry."

"I don’t eat food from strangers. Especially rogues."

His jaw twitched, and for a moment I thought he might say something, maybe attack me for my insolence but he didn’t. He just set the bowl on the small table near the bed and stepped back.

"Suit yourself."

He leaned against the far wall, arms folded across his chest.

I stared at the food. It was steaming, fragrant, and I hadn’t eaten in a long time.

My pride battled my survival instincts for exactly thirty seconds before my shaking hand reached for the bowl.

He watched me the entire time.

I was too hungry to be ashamed of the way I rushed the food, shovelling it into my mouth despite its scorching heat.

Each bite felt like it might be my last. Not because it was bad it was actually decent but because I kept waiting for him to lunge, to shift, to prove every warning I’d ever been taught true.

But he didn’t.

He just stood there. Watching me eat silently. It was disconcerting but I was too busy shovelling food into my mouth to care.

When the bowl was empty, I finally spoke. "Why am I here?"

"You passed out at the river’s edge. I brought you in."

My fingers tightened around the empty bowl. "That doesn’t answer my question. What are you going to do with me? Eat me perhaps" I said.

He pushed off the wall.

I tensed.

He crossed the room with quiet, predatory grace. The shack seemed to shrink around him, he was utterly unreadable.

"You think I’m going to hurt you?"

He stopped in front of me.

I nodded slowly, heart hammering against my ribs.

"Aren’t you?"

“Is that what they tell you about rogues?” he asked

Eyes relentless on me.

He basically rendered me mute so I nodded.

He leaned down slightly, placing one hand on the bedpost beside me. His face was close now, so close I could feel the heat of his breath. His eyes bored into mine, and for a heartbeat I felt the air still between us.

"If I wanted to hurt you," he said softly, "you’d already be dead."

I swallowed.

His other hand lifted, reaching for me. I flinched, but he didn’t stop. He gripped my chin firm enough to hold me still.

I froze.

His thumb brushed over my jaw. "I will not hurt you, little one."

His words made my stomach twist in a strange, unfamiliar way.

He wasn’t my mate. I knew that. He didn’t feel like Malik. There was no bond. No tether. But something about the way he looked at me like he somehow understood.

His scent was woodsmoke and rain and something darker.

"Then why save me?" I whispered.

He didn’t answer. Then after a moment he tilted his head.

“What's your name little one?” He asked, stormy gray eyes fixed on my face. I swallowed

“ I'm… uh” I say in an unsteady voice. “I'm Myra”

Just stared at me, expression unreadable.

“I am Rowan of…” he trailed off

Then it hit me. A sharp pain in my belly. A Sharp, searing pain cutting through my belly like a hot blade.

I gasped and doubled over, the empty bowl falling from my hands and clattering to the floor.

A scream tore from my throat.

"Hey!" he caught me before I collapsed.