Rejected by My Fated Mate

As the Gamma of the Empire Moon Pack, my life was defined by duty, schedules, and the relentless protection of our borders. I didn't have the luxury of being soft. They called me the "Iron Wolf" for a reason. But even iron can rust if you leave it out in the rain too long, and for five years, I had been standing in a storm.

The Winter Ball was tonight. The pack house was buzzing with excitement, streamers of silver and gold hanging from the banisters. I wasn't interested in the party. I just needed Graham's signature on the perimeter security revisions. As the Beta, he had to sign off before I could double the guard rotation.

I knocked on his office door. No answer. I pushed it open, expecting to find him buried under paperwork. The room was empty, but the air wasn't.

My nose twitched. Beneath the smell of old paper and Graham's usual cedar cologne, there was something else. Something sharp, cloying, and forbidden.

*Moonshade.*

My wolf, usually dormant and depressed these days, bristled inside me. Moonshade was a banned herb. It had one primary use: masking scents. Why would the Beta of the strongest pack on the East Coast need to hide his scent?

I followed the smell to the corner of the room, behind his heavy mahogany desk. The carpet was slightly askew. I kicked it back and saw a loose floorboard. My heart hammered against my ribs—a slow, heavy thud of dread. I pried the board up with my fingernails.

Inside lay a bundle of dried purple herbs and a leather-bound journal. My hands trembled as I picked up the book. I knew I shouldn't read it. That was an invasion of privacy. But five years of rejection, five years of Graham telling me my aura was "cursed" by a dark omen, made me desperate.

I flipped to a page dated five years ago. The day the Moon Goddess paired us.

*"The omen is a lie,"* the handwriting was unmistakably Graham's. *"I cannot mark Rory while my heart waits for Adelina. I will use the prophecy to buy time until she returns. Rory is strong; she can handle the wait. I cannot handle the truth."*

The book slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. The world tilted on its axis.

There was no curse. There was no dark prophecy warning that our union would destroy the pack. There was just him, waiting for another woman.

A low, dangerous growl ripped from my throat. It wasn't a sound of sadness. It was the sound of a wolf who had been caged for too long. I didn't cry. The Iron Wolf didn't cry. I moved.

I tracked his scent. It was fresh, leading away from the office and down the hall toward the pack library. I moved silently, my boots making no sound on the hardwood floors. I was hunting now.

The library doors were slightly ajar. I didn't barge in. I stood in the shadows of the corridor, my heightened hearing picking up every breath.

"But she's still here, Graham," a female voice whined. It was a voice I hadn't heard in years, but I remembered it. Adelina Stevens. She was back.

I peered through the crack. Adelina was pressed against the bookshelves, looking just as beautiful and manipulative as she did before she left for Europe. Graham stood before her, his hand cupping her cheek with a tenderness he had never, not once, shown me.

"You don't need to worry about Rory," Graham said, his voice smooth like velvet.

"She's your fated mate," Adelina pouted, tracing a finger down his chest. "Everyone says she's the Iron Wolf. She's terrifying."

Graham chuckled, a sound that made my blood run cold. "The Iron Wolf is merely a guardian for my seat until you are ready to be my Beta Female. I have never touched her, and I never will. She is a placeholder, Adelina. Nothing more."

*A placeholder.*

Five years of humiliation. Five years of the pack looking at me with pity, whispering that I was defective, that the Moon Goddess had made a mistake. And all this time, I was just keeping his seat warm for a woman who abandoned the pack to chase a human millionaire.

I didn't storm in. If I went in there now, I would tear his throat out, and I would be the one branded a traitor. I turned on my heel and sprinted toward the Alpha's wing.

I burst into Alpha King George's study without knocking. My uncle looked up from his desk, startled, his eyes narrowing when he saw the look on my face.

"Rory? What is it? Is there an attack?"

I marched to his desk and slammed the journal down on top of his papers. " treason," I spat out. "Emotional treason. Deception of the highest order."

George opened the book. I watched his eyes scan the page I had marked. His face went from confused to purple with rage. The room temperature dropped as his Alpha aura flared, suffocating and heavy. He stood up, his chair crashing backward.

"I will kill him," George growled, his voice vibrating the glass windows. "He has mocked our laws and dishonored my blood."

He reached for the ceremonial blade on his wall, but I stepped in front of him.

"No," I said, my voice steady. "You won't."

"Rory, he stole five years of your life!"

"And if you kill him, I'm just the pitiful girl whose uncle had to save her," I said, staring him down. "I don't want his blood, Uncle. I want out."

I pulled a folded piece of paper from my pocket. I had typed it up on my phone on the way over and printed it at the wireless station outside his door.

"Transfer orders," I said, sliding the paper toward him. "To the Western Rogue Border. Seattle sector."

George looked at me with horror. "Seattle? Rory, that's a war zone. It's a graveyard for wolves who want to die."

"It's the only place far enough away from here," I replied, my eyes burning but dry. "I am going to reject him, George. Tonight. And then I am leaving. If you love me, you will sign this."

My uncle looked at the paper, then at me. He saw the iron in my eyes. He knew he couldn't stop me. With a shaking hand, he picked up his pen.

"You are worth ten of him," George whispered as he signed the order.

"I know," I said, taking the paper. "Now I just have to make him realize what he lost."