Rejected By My Alpha, Claimed By The Royal King

Elara POV

The Great Hall of the keep was a cavern of clamorous noise and flickering torchlight. Along the heavy oak tables, warriors tore at roasted boar with greasy fingers and drank from dented tankards. At the high table, seated in the Alpha's customary place, was Kaelen. Beside him, Seraphina.

Upon a silver platter before her, she had emptied the contents of the leather pouch.

"A gift," Seraphina announced, her voice carrying over the din, "from our future Alpha."

A roar of approval went up from the tables, the sound of wood banging on wood a deafening drumbeat.

"The future Luna claims her spoils!" a hulking warrior bellowed.

They were already naming her his Luna.

Another man laughed. "The month's wager is nearly up, Kaelen. Will you yield to her clan's demands?"

I knew of the wager. Seraphina had boasted to the other she-wolves that she could secure Kaelen's proposal, and with it the alliance, within thirty days.

The words hung in the air like smoke. I waited for Kaelen to deny it, to laugh it off as drunkards' nonsense. Instead, a low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound meant as a warning, yet there was no true menace in his scent. The corner of his mouth was, in fact, turned upwards in a sort of proud smirk as his gaze settled on her.

So it was true. He knew of the wager. And he was playing along.

A faint, insistent whisper echoed at the edge of my consciousness. Elara, will he truly choose her as his Mate?

It was a Mind-Link, sent by a young packmate from across the hall.

I closed my eyes, and with a deliberate effort of will, erected a wall of silence in my mind. The link was severed.

An hour later, we were all convened in the vast, cold library for the lesson in pack histories. The Elders stood before the hearth, their forms casting long, wavering shadows. They were wolves of great age and many battles, and the very air around them seemed thick with a stern, unyielding gravity.

Ordinarily, Kaelen would have taken the seat beside me, letting his presence form a buffer, a shield for my senses against the crushing authority of the Elders. Today, he sat one row ahead, with Seraphina at his side, their shoulders nearly brushing across the narrow aisle.

He offered no protection.

A tightness seized my chest, and the air grew thin in my lungs under the sheer weight of the room's collective presence.

My gaze fell upon a slip of parchment in Kaelen's hand. He scribbled a note upon it, then slid it with a faint scratching sound across the polished wood of the desk to Seraphina. She read his words, and a small, private giggle escaped her lips before she wrote a reply. Their inner wolves were communing, a silent flirtation conducted in plain sight.

"Seraphina," the eldest of the Elders called out. "Inform the assembly of the significance of our territorial borders."

Seraphina rose to her feet, her posture one of utter confidence. "Borders are the lifeblood of the pack, protecting our resources and repelling rogues. A strong Luna must see to their patrol daily."

"Excellent," the Elder commended, a rare smile gracing his severe features.

Then, his sharp gaze fell upon me.

"Unlike some," the Elder continued, his voice hardening with a cold pragmatism. "Survival in the winter to come will demand strength. Elara, you have had the future Alpha's tutelage for years, and yet you show no progress. You cannot shift. You cannot fight. In a rogue attack, you would not merely perish—you would see your packmates slain in the futile effort of your defense."

A low ripple of derisive laughter moved through the library.

A hot flush crept up my neck, burning my cheeks.

The instinct of the Omega was to lower my head, to offer my throat in submission to the humiliation. My eyes stung with a familiar, traitorous heat.

I looked to the rigid line of Kaelen's back. In times past, his Alpha's Command would have silenced the room in a heartbeat. He would have been on his feet, snarling at any who dared mock me.

Today, he remained seated, his knuckles turning white where he gripped the edge of his desk. His gaze was fixed upon the motes of dust dancing in a stray sunbeam, his entire being coiled in a deliberate effort of non-intervention.

"Look," Seraphina whispered, her voice loud enough to carry. "She is about to weep again."

A harsh, weary sigh escaped Kaelen's lips.

"Omegas are a liability," he muttered, forcing a hollow chuckle that did not reach his eyes.

The sound of it, that broken laugh, felt like a stone slab settling upon my lungs.

I closed my eyes. I brought my teeth down upon my lower lip, biting until the warm, metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. With a will I did not know I possessed, I forced the tears back, swallowing them down like poison.

And in that moment, something inside me shifted—not my wolf, but something deeper. A door closing. A flame guttering out.

I opened my eyes and fixed them on the back of Kaelen's head, vowing that my tears would never fall before him again.