Rejected by My Fated Alpha

Five years ago, Quincy and Raphael met in the small town of Greystone.

The difference was, Quincy and her mother had been driven there by Ximena.

Raphael, on the other hand, was traveling south, wandering through various towns.

To make a living, Quincy took up transcribing ancient pack scrolls for the local library.

One day, when she went to deliver a manuscript, she saw a man standing tall, dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored trousers, holding a copy of “The Dreams of the Lost Pack,” which she had transcribed just days before.

The librarian chuckled and teased,

“Here’s the person you’ve been looking for.”

Quincy blinked in surprise.

The man turned to her, his gaze warm and his smile gentle.

“So, it was you who wrote this.”

Raphael Phillips, the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack, was known for his striking looks and commanding presence.

“Your handwriting is elegant, yet there’s a wildness to it. It doesn’t feel like the work of an ordinary Omega. It’s as if the wind howled through the forests as you wrote.”

He tilted his head slightly, his tone light but sincere. “Forgive my boldness. I couldn’t help but be intrigued.”

Quincy’s cheeks flushed, and she stammered for a moment before finally managing to say, “...Thank you.”

His smile widened.

Raphael stayed in Greystone for a year.

During that time, he often visited the library to see Quincy.

They talked about pack history, shared stories, and debated the meanings of ancient texts.

He brought her flowers, helped her organize her workspace, and even recited poetry to her.

He admired her handwriting, her intellect.

But more than admiration, there was a sense of protectiveness in his actions.

The first time he called her “little wolf,” he said with a hint of tenderness,

“Quincy, little wolf, run freely, explore the world. When you turn sixteen, you’ll truly be free.”

She longed for that freedom.

But instead, she found herself trapped.

Raphael’s “little wolf” was a term of endearment meant to bind her, not to set her free.

She wanted to be Quincy, not his little wolf.

The next moment, Quincy bowed deeply to the Lycan Princess,

“Your Highness, this piece wasn’t written by me. But I didn’t mean to deceive you—I simply misremembered.”

Since Raphael had chosen to side with Ximena, Quincy had no choice but to find another way out.