Rejected by My Alpha Mate

I remained silent, neither nodding nor pushing him away.

Antonio took this as implicit consent, his face lighting up with misguided joy. His aura, usually commanding as the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, felt suffocating now, a reminder of the gulf between us that had only widened over time.

A week later, the so-called "apology dinner" arrived. Same room, same people. The atmosphere was even more awkward than before, with a forced sense of "harmony" hanging in the air. The pack hierarchy was on full display—Antonio at the head of the table, Savanna seated closer to him than I was, as if she were the one he had chosen to honor, not his Luna.

As the waiter began to serve the dishes, a heavy feeling settled in my stomach. The table was covered with dishes clearly showcasing who the true focus of this "apology feast" was.

Spaghetti with marinara sauce, baked salmon, buffalo wings... all were Savanna Mason’s favorites, each dish spicier and richer than the last. Antonio, my mate, knew very well that my morning sickness had just started to ease, I couldn’t stand strong greasy smells, and spicy foods were off-limits. The healer had advised a mild, nutritious diet, advice he seemed to have completely ignored.

Savanna wore a simple white dress with a Victorian touch, appearing unusually "fragile and innocent." She picked up a glass of brandy, gracefully walked over to me, her voice sickly sweet:

"Luna," she said, her tone dripping with false humility, "it was my fault last time. I spoke without thinking and upset you. Here’s a drink as my apology!"

With that, she tilted her head back and downed the brandy in one go, her cheeks quickly blushing, her eyes sneaking a glance at Antonio, a hint of hidden satisfaction in her gaze.

Setting the glass down, she added thoughtfully, "Luna, since you're expecting, you shouldn’t drink. Just the gesture is enough, right, Alpha?"

Antonio eagerly nodded in agreement. "Yes, yes, Savanna's right! My Luna, you can just toast with water. Savanna finished hers, isn’t that sincere enough?"

His tone was dismissive, as if Savanna’s drinking somehow erased the humiliation and hurt inflicted on me.

Others chimed in, echoing, "Yes, Luna, Savanna punished herself. It’s not a big deal, let’s move on!"

"Alpha's right, it's the thought that counts!"

I looked at the glass of water before me, the drink I was "spared" from having to drink, and the table full of foods I couldn’t stand. The last bit of warmth in my heart vanished completely.

I scanned the room, noting Antonio’s face plastered with a sycophantic smile, desperate to maintain a false peace, while his packmates were each more hypocritical than the last.

No anger, no grievance, just a calm clarity washed over me.

I gently pushed the glass of water aside, raised my gaze, my eyes calmly sweeping over Savanna and the crowd of "friends," finally landing on Antonio. My voice was quiet but clear enough for everyone to hear:

"Here you all are, 'apologizing' to a pregnant Luna, ordering all of Savanna’s favorite spicy, heavy dishes, ignoring that I can’t even bear the smell of grease, having her bring brandy to me, knowing full well I can’t drink, and you say, 'It’s the thought that counts'?"

I paused, a cold smile forming at the corner of my mouth:

"I just want to ask, did none of you grow up with mothers?"

"Or are you just unaware that a pregnant Luna needs care, shouldn’t be forced to drink? Or is your so-called 'apology' and 'joke' intentionally targeting a pregnant Luna's vulnerabilities, just to embarrass her?"

Silence blanketed the room.

Savanna’s smile froze, her expression too slow to shift to tears.

The faces of the packmates turned red, then white, their eyes avoiding mine, whispering among themselves, exchanging awkward, irritated glances:

“Is that necessary? That was harsh.”

“Exactly, we apologized, but the Luna’s still making a fuss…”

“Not giving the Alpha any respect at all, overreacting…”

Antonio’s face turned ashen. He slammed the table, standing abruptly, pointing at me, veins pulsing at his temple:

"My Luna!" he barked, his alpha tone sharp and cutting. "Enough! Are you ungrateful? Savanna’s gone this far, the pack has given you an out! Do you have to be this sarcastic, unwilling to let go, tearing everyone’s reputations apart? Where’s my dignity in all this?”

Dignity? Again with the dignity. To Antonio, his childhood friend’s tears were dignity, his pack’s "harmony" was dignity, while the dignity, feelings, and health of his pregnant mate were insignificant, trampled upon, just to uphold his absurd sense of dignity.

I looked at his contorted face, listened to his abrasive shouts, felt the disdainful or gloating eyes cast upon me from those around.

Suddenly, the absurdity of it all struck me as laughable. My wolf stirred within me, a faint growl of agreement, but I silenced her. This was my fight, not hers.