Rejected By My Hockey Alpha

Penelope's POV

The Moon Ceremony is torture.

I stand at the very back of the gathered pack, trying to blend into the shadows while Alpha Blackthorn drones on about tradition and strength. The video has made me infamous pack members keep shooting me sideways glances and whispering behind their hands. Some look amused, others disgusted, but all of them see me as entertainment.

"Tonight, we celebrate not just our hockey victory, but the bright future of our pack," Alpha Blackthorn's voice booms across the ceremonial grounds. "My son Timothy has proven himself worthy of leadership through his athletic achievements and his wise choices."

My stomach clenches as Timothy steps forward, looking like a golden god in his ceremonial clothes. The pack erupts in cheers and howls of approval. He's everything an Alpha heir should be strong, beautiful, born to rule.

"Furthermore," Alpha Blackthorn continues, "I'm pleased to announce Timothy's intention to formally court Madison Sawyer, daughter of Beta Robert Sawyer. A union that will strengthen both our families and secure our pack's future."

The words hit me as I watch Timothy take Madison's hand, watch her radiant smile as she accepts the pack's approval, watch my last desperate hope crumble to ash.

They look perfect together the Alpha heir and his chosen Luna, both beautiful, both powerful, both exactly what werewolf royalty should be. Not like me, standing alone in my thrift store dress, counting down the minutes until my public execution.

"The ceremony will take place at the next full moon," Alpha Blackthorn declares. "Until then, let us celebrate their commitment!"

More cheers, more howls, more proof that fairy tales don't come true for girls like me. I turn to slip away before anyone notices, but Isla catches my arm.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly, her green eyes full of sympathy.

I shake my head, not trusting my voice. If I try to speak, I'll start crying, and I've humiliated myself enough for one lifetime.

"Maybe you should skip whatever Timothy wanted to talk about," Isla suggests cautiously, her green eyes full of concern. "This feels like a setup."

"No!" I say too quickly that it almost sounded desperate. "You don't understand. This is our chance, our real chance."

Isla frowns. "What are you talking about?"

"The announcement tonight it's just for show," I explain, my words tumbling over each other. "Pack politics, you know? But privately, when we're alone, he can tell me how he really feels."

"Penelope," Isla's voice grows gentle, like she's talking to someone mentally unstable, "he just got engaged to someone else."

"Arranged engagement," I correct firmly, wrapping my arms around myself. "It's different. The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes about mates."

Isla looks alarmed now. "Honey, you don't even know if you're actually mates. You've never spoken to him"

"I don't need to speak to him to know," I interrupt, my voice rising with desperate conviction. "I can feel it. The bond, The connection. When our eyes met in that tunnel, he felt it too, he also saw the recognition."

"What you saw was him realizing you'd been watching him," Isla says carefully, reaching for my hand. "That's not the same thing as."

I jerk away from her touch. "You don't understand. You weren't there. You didn't see the way he looked at me."

But even as I say it, doubt creeps in. Had Timothy looked at me with recognition, or just shock? Had I seen desire in his eyes, or disgust?

No. I can't think like that, hope is all I have left.

"I have to go," I whisper to Isla, my voice shaking. "I need to prepare for tomorrow night."

She looks worried but nods. "Just be careful, okay? Alphas can be cruel when they feel cornered."

The crowd begins to disperse as the official ceremony ends. Families head home, young wolves drift toward unofficial after-parties, and couples slip away for private celebrations. I wait until most of the pack has gone before making my way toward Moonlight Lake.

The path through the woods feels endless. Every step brings me closer to the conversation that will change everything. I've practiced my speech a hundred times, whispered it to my reflection until the words are burned into my memory.

Timothy, I know this is complicated, but I need you to know that I've loved you for three years. Not because you're the Alpha heir or a hockey star, but because of who you are when you think no one's watching. I've seen your kindness, your vulnerability, the way you sometimes look so lonely despite being surrounded by admirers.

My stomach cramps again, and I have to stop walking to breathe through the nausea. The stress is literally making me sick, but I push forward. This is too important to let physical discomfort stop me.

I know about Madison, about the arrangement, but arranged matings aren't real bonds. What we have is real. I can feel it in my soul, Timothy. Please don't tell me you can't feel it too.

I practice the words under my breath, adjusting my tone, imagining his response. In my fantasy, his cold mask melts away. He admits he's been fighting the bond, that duty has been warring with his heart. He tells me he's been waiting for someone brave enough to speak the truth first.

Bare branches scratch at my jacket and my breath fogs in the cold air. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howl their joy at tonight's festivities, but all I can hear is my own desperate rehearsal.

"I don't care what anyone else thinks," I whisper to the trees, tears freezing on my cheeks. "I don't care about rank or status or what your father says. I love you, Timothy Blackthorn, and I think... I think you love me too."

The words echo in the empty forest, and for a moment, they almost sound believable.

Moonlight Lake sits frozen solid, its surface reflecting the star-scattered sky like a mirror. The ceremonial stones around its perimeter cast shadows, and the whole place feels ancient and sacred.

I'm early, so I settle on one of the smaller stones to wait. The cold seeps through my thin dress, but I barely notice. My whole body feels electric with anticipation and terror, like I'm about to jump off a cliff and either fly or crash.

I run through my speech one final time, moving my lips silently. Every word has been chosen carefully, Surely he will see reason and admit what I already know that we belong together.

Lyra paces anxiously in my mind. Something feels wrong.why is he taking so long.

"He's just nervous," I whisper to her, bouncing slightly on the stone. "This is scary for him too. He's taking a huge risk by meeting me."

Penelope, Lyra's voice turns warning, maybe you should listen to what he's actually.

"It doesn't matter what he says at first," I interrupt her, my internal voice growing frantic. "Sometimes people have to say the wrong thing before they can say the right thing. I just need to be patient and understanding. Show him I'm worth the risk."

Footsteps crunch through the snow behind me. My heart hammers against my ribs as I stand, smoothing my dress with shaking hands. This is it. This is my moment to fight for love.

I don't turn around—I want to compose myself first, make sure I look worthy when he sees me.

"Penelope."

I stand slowly, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth and comfort. When I finally turn to face him, my heart nearly stops.

Timothy looks... tortured. His perfect features are tight with some internal struggle, his hands clenched at his sides like he's fighting not to reach for something. For a wild second, I let myself imagine that something might be me.

"Penelope." His voice sends shivers down my spine, but there's something off about his tone.

His voice is different out here. Rougher than the smooth tone he mask at school and that has to mean something. He's dropping his guard for me.

I stand slowly, turning to face him with my practiced smile. When I finally look at him, my heart nearly stops.

Timothy looks... tortured. His perfect features are tight with some internal struggle, his hands clenched at his sides like he's fighting not to reach for me. This is it—this is him wrestling with the bond, trying to choose duty over love.

"We need to discuss what's been happening," he says carefully, still not quite meeting my eyes. "This situation between us."

"It's not a situation," I say softly, stepping closer despite my nerves. "It's destiny."

His jaw ticks, a muscle jumping beneath his skin. "You've been watching me."

"Yes," I admit without shame, lifting my chin. "Because my soul recognizes yours."

"For months," he continued, his voice strained.

"Because I was waiting," I explained desperately. "Waiting for you to be ready to see what's right in front of you."

"Why?" The single word comes out like he's in pain.

The question I've prepared for. The moment I get to bare my soul and show him the truth burning in my heart.

"Because you're my mate," I whisper, taking another step toward him. "Because the Moon Goddess chose us for each other. Because everything in my world makes sense when I look at you."

Something flickers across his expression pain, maybe, or panic and my hope soars. He does feel it, he is just scared.

"Timothy," I continue, my voice growing stronger with desperate conviction, "I know about the engagement announcement. I know your father has plans. But this is bigger than politics. This is our fate."

His eyes finally meet mine, and I see something that makes my breath catch. Not love at least not yet but conflict that means I still have a chance.

"You don't have to say anything tonight," I rush to add, afraid he'll cut me off. "I just needed you to know that I understand. That I'm willing to wait while you figure out how to choose love over duty."

I reach for his hand, and the moment my fingers brush his, electricity shoots up my arm. He jerks away like I've burned him, and I know he felt it too.

"Please," I whisper, my voice breaking with desperate hope. "Please don't tell me you didn't feel that."

Timothy stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet and careful.

"Penelope," he begins.