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Rejected by My Alpha, Crowned as the Queen Novel Cover

Rejected by My Alpha, Crowned as the Queen

For five years, I was Luna, bonded to Alpha Jaxon. Then he brought Elara into our suite, used his Alpha Command to force me down, and watched as she framed me. His violent shove cost me our pup, but he only sneered. Elara then unplugged my adoptive mother's life support. When I lunged at her, Jaxon seared off my scent gland, forced me to sign a rejection, and threw me into the freezing woods. He didn't know my bloodline. At the auction, the Alpha King crushed his pack's pride with one breath. I am the King's daughter, and I will take my throne.
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Chapter 3

Selena POV

My adoptive mother was a Pack Elder who had found me abandoned in the snow and raised me as her own. A sudden, blinding golden light flashed across my vision as the ancient White Wolf sleeping deep within my bloodline thrashed violently. A low, dangerous growl rattled in my chest.

I ripped the IV needle out of my hand, ignoring the blood dripping onto the floor, and sprinted down the sterile hospital corridors. I slammed my shoulder into the heavy double doors of the Intensive Care Unit, bursting them open with a deafening crash.

Jaxon was standing by the window, his back turned, while Elara stood suspiciously close to the medical machinery. The nutrient line was dangling loose, dripping clear fluid onto the floor.

*The duty nurse's station outside the ICU was empty—a neatly handwritten note taped to the monitor read: "Called to East Wing. Back in ten." Elara had planned this. She had cleared the floor. *

A monitor shrieked a long, unbroken tone. Elara recoiled, her back hitting a metal cart with a clang as her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my goddess, Alpha! The tube just popped out! I was just trying to adjust her blanket!"

I ignored her blatant lies and lunged for the medical machine, grabbing the clear tube and frantically jamming it back into the port. But a long, high-pitched beep already filled the room. The heart monitor flatlined.

A Healer rushed in, checked my mother's pulse, and slowly shook his head. "Time of death, 8:14 PM."

A primal roar tore its way out of my throat. My fingernails extended into long, deadly wolf claws as I lunged across the room, tackling Elara to the linoleum floor. My claws dug into the soft skin of her neck.

"She gave you her own meat for four winters!" I screamed, spitting in her face. "She kept you from freezing to death!"

Elara made a strangled, gurgling sound, her eyes bulging as she thrashed. Jaxon cursed, grabbing a high-temperature sterilization wand from a nearby medical cart. The tip was still glowing a bright, angry red from its recent use.

To protect his new obsession, he slammed the burning metal directly into my left shoulder—right over my scent gland.

The sickening smell of burning hair and roasting flesh instantly filled the air.

A scream tore from my throat, a sound of such torment it felt as if it were peeling the flesh from my own bones, as I rolled off Elara. My unique scent of winter snow and pine vanished completely, cauterized and burned away forever.

"You're out of your mind!" Jaxon yelled, standing protectively over Elara. "The machine failed! She was dying anyway, and you tried to murder an innocent Pack member!"

He shouted for the Healers to treat Elara's scratches, carrying her out and leaving me completely alone on the floor next to my mother's corpse.

*I lay there, my shoulder still smoking, my scent erased from the world, staring at the flat green line on the monitor. My mother was dead. My pup was dead. My bond was severed. I had nothing left—except a voice in my head counting down the hours. Two days. *

Jaxon had ordered me sent to the border estate, but Elara had clearly gotten to the guards. By midnight, they dragged my bleeding body to the edge of the woods and tossed me across the border line. I was officially a Rogue.

I huddled in the darkness, the promise of my father's arrival in three days the only ember of warmth in my frozen soul. I found shelter in an old, abandoned hunter's cabin, surviving on melted snow and the last vestiges of my strength. For three days and three nights, I waited, my grief a cold, heavy stone in my gut. On the third day, a subtle mental message came, a simple confirmation that his convoy was approaching the capital's neutral zone. It was time.

I needed gold coins to buy a proper silver urn for my mother's ashes. Shivering in the freezing snow, I reached into my torn pocket and pulled out a glowing blue gemstone: the "Tear of the Moon Goddess." Jaxon had traveled to the frozen northern peaks to find it for me five years ago.

I dragged my broken body through miles of unforgiving wilderness until I reached the neutral city limits, eventually descending into the hidden, underground Elite Auction. The air here was thick with the smell of rich cigars and old blood.

The appraiser at the desk verified the gem's authenticity with wide, greedy eyes, immediately placing it on the main stage with a disgustingly low starting bid.

The noble Alphas in the crowd pointed at my dirty, blood-stained clothes, their laughter echoing through the smoky room.

"Looks like a stray dog begging for a bone," a wealthy Beta sneered.

Suddenly, the crowd parted. Jaxon and Elara stepped into the dim light of the auction hall. A volatile mixture of disbelief and fury darkened Jaxon's features the moment he saw me standing there.

*I met his eyes without flinching. He thought I was here to beg. He had no idea that somewhere in this city, a King was already walking toward this auction house—and he was coming for me. *

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