Rejected by My Alpha Mate

The moon hung low in the sky as I slipped through the shadows of the forest, my senses alert to every sound and scent. The pack border stretched before me—a boundary I'd crossed countless times as Luna, but never alone at night with such purpose.

I needed proof. Concrete evidence that would clear my father's name and expose whoever had planted that cloak.

The rain had cleared, leaving the forest floor damp and fragrant with pine and earth. Perfect conditions for tracking.

"Focus," I whispered to myself, closing my eyes and letting my wolf's enhanced senses take over. The world around me sharpened—every rustling leaf, every subtle scent became clear.

There—a faint trace of the lavender-musk perfume. I followed it like a ghost through the trees, my footsteps silent as I'd been taught since childhood.

The trail led me deeper into the border territory, where the trees grew thicker and the shadows darker. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, sensing danger.

*We're not alone,* she warned.

I froze, scenting the air. Two distinct wolf scents—unfamiliar but carrying Silver Fang markings.

"Border patrol," I murmured, ducking behind a large oak.

Two Deltas emerged from the darkness, their postures aggressive as they sniffed the air. I recognized them immediately—Vance's men.

"Well, look what we have here," the taller one sneered, his eyes glowing with malice in the darkness. "The Luna, all alone at the border."

"Step aside," I commanded, letting my Luna aura flare. "I'm conducting official pack business."

The shorter Delta laughed. "Says who? We have orders to detain anyone suspicious near the border."

"Especially someone who might be looking for evidence to save a traitor," the other added, circling me slowly.

My heart raced, but I kept my expression calm. "You're trespassing on Luna territory."

"We're just doing our job," the first Delta growled, lunging forward suddenly.

I sidestepped quickly, using the combat techniques my father had taught me since childhood. His hand missed my shoulder by inches.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," I warned, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.

The second Delta charged from behind. I spun, using his momentum to throw him against a tree trunk. He hit with a sickening thud.

"You'll regret that," the first one snarled, shifting partially—his claws extending from human hands.

I met his attack with a flurry of precise strikes—my father's signature defensive pattern. Within seconds, both Deltas lay groaning on the forest floor.

"Tell Vance," I said, standing over them, "that I'm not so easily intimidated."

---

The hollow tree stood just off the main patrol route—a perfect hiding spot. I'd tracked the scent here after disposing of the two Deltas.

My hands trembled slightly as I reached inside the hollow trunk. Something cold and glass touched my fingers.

I pulled out a small vial filled with dark liquid—Rogue pheromones, concentrated and potent.

"Just like I thought," I whispered, examining the label. The handwriting was distinctive—sharp, angular strokes that matched Vance's signature on pack documents.

But there was more. Behind the vial lay a small leather-bound notebook. Inside were detailed plans—dates, locations, even notes on my father's patrol schedule.

"This wasn't random," I realized, flipping through the pages. "This was calculated."

One page caught my eye—a list of names. The "old guard"—wolves loyal to my father and the traditional ways. Next to each name was a strategy for removal.

And at the bottom: "E.M. - perfect distraction. Keep Alpha occupied."

E.M. Everly Morgan.

My fingers tightened around the notebook. This wasn't just about removing my father—it was about consolidating power. Vance and Everly were working together.

---

"Father?" I whispered, kneeling beside the cot in the dungeon infirmary. Seven days had passed since his imprisonment, and the silver burns had spread across his chest and arms.

His eyes fluttered open, cloudy with fever. "Celine..."

"The healer says the silver toxicity is affecting your organs," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. "We need to get you out now."

"Ryland..." he murmured. "He'll do the right thing."

I closed my eyes, gathering my strength. There was only one option left.

I reached for the emergency mind-link—the Code Red channel reserved for war declarations or pack invasions.

*Ryland!* I called out, pouring desperation into the connection. *Code Red! Medical emergency with Elder Hunter!*

For a moment, there was silence. Then his voice came through—distant and annoyed.

*I'm in the middle of a healing session with Everly,* he replied. *What's the emergency?*

*My father is dying,* I transmitted, my mental voice shaking with emotion. *The silver is killing him. You need to release him now.*

*I can't just—*

*He's dying, Ryland!* I screamed through the link. *Your mentor is dying because of silver burns, and you're with HER?*

There was a pause, then a sigh. *I'll look into it tomorrow.*

*Tomorrow might be too late,* I warned, tears streaming down my face as I looked at my father's deteriorating condition.

*It will have to wait,* Ryland replied coldly. *Everly needs me right now. She's having another episode.*

The connection went silent, leaving me alone with my dying father and the bitter realization that my mate had chosen—again.