Rejected By My Mate, Claimed By The Ghost Alpha

Eller POV:

The next morning, I requested an audience with Meredith. I was granted one immediately, her summons finding me before my own message had even been delivered. She wanted my surrender.

I found her in the same sitting room as before, a predator in her favorite hunting ground. Blake was with her, of course, a decorative viper coiled at her side. They looked up as I entered, their faces alight with smug expectation.

Meredith gestured to a silver tea service. "Tea, Eller? I'm sure you could use something to calm your nerves."

"No, thank you," I said, my voice polite but firm. I remained standing.

She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "You've come to give us your answer, I presume."

"I have." I said.

Blake leaned forward, a cruel little smile playing on her lips. "We'll take good care of you, cousin. You'll see."

I met her gaze, then shifted my attention to Meredith, the true power in the room. I let the silence hang for a moment, savoring the shift in the atmosphere as they realized I was not behaving like a defeated woman.

I took a breath. "Lady Meredith, I must respectfully decline Chace's proposal."

The teacup in Meredith's hand rattled against its saucer. Blake's smile froze, then vanished.

"Decline?" Meredith's voice was dangerously low. "You think you have a choice?"

"I do not choose to accept humiliation," I said, my voice ringing with a clarity that surprised even myself. "However, I have an alternative proposal. One that will uphold the honor of the Johnston Pack and preserve the alliance between our families."

That piqued her interest. Greed and self-preservation were the only languages Meredith truly understood. She narrowed her eyes. "Go on."

This was the moment. The precipice.

"I request to complete the mating ceremony with your late, heroic stepson," I said, each word deliberate and clear. "Edmund Johnston."

The silence in the room was absolute. It was as if I had detonated a bomb that sucked all the air out. Meredith and Blake just stared, their faces masks of pure, unadulterated shock.

Blake was the first to break. A strangled, hysterical sound escaped her lips. "You're insane! He's dead!"

"That is precisely why I must marry him," I replied, turning my gaze to her. My voice was filled with a righteous gravity I didn't feel. "He died a hero, for this pack. His bloodline, the main bloodline, cannot be left without a guardian. His legacy requires a Luna to preserve his honor."

I had taken their private, sordid betrayal and elevated it to a matter of public honor and pack duty.

I could see the gears turning in Meredith's sharp mind. She was calculating the angles, the political fallout. An alliance with the Dawsons, fulfilled. Chace and Blake, free to be together. And me? Safely married to a dead man, neutralized as a threat, while simultaneously making the Johnston family look noble and compassionate. It cost her nothing and gained her public acclaim.

Blake, however, operated on pure instinct. She knew, on a primal level, that this was a threat. "Mrs. Meredith，you can't let her do this!" she hissed, grabbing Meredith's arm. "She's planning something!"

"And what could I possibly plan?" I asked softly, turning the question back on them. "To raise his ghost from the grave? I am simply a grieving woman seeking to honor the memory of a great Alpha and my family's commitment."

Then, I delivered the final, decisive blow.

"Of course, a matter of this importance-concerning the pack's fallen hero-should not be decided by us alone," I said, my tone deferential. "It should be presented to Alpha Arthur and the council of Elders. I am certain they will know the honorable path forward."

I had trapped her. She couldn't refuse to take it to the Elders without looking petty and disrespectful to her dead son's memory. And she knew, just as I did, what the Elders would say. They were old, traditional wolves who valued honor above all else. They were already displeased with Chace's fickle behavior.

Meredith's lips thinned into a white line. She was furious, but she was beaten.

"Very well," she clipped out. "I will present your... request."

"Thank you, Lady Meredith," I said, inclining my head. I turned and walked out, leaving the two of them stewing in their shock and fury.

As the door closed, I heard Blake's shriek. "She's trying to steal my position! Don't you see?"

The news of my proposal ripped through the pack's upper echelons like a wildfire.

Just as I predicted, the Elders were moved by my "selfless" and "honorable" request. It was a stark contrast to Chace's faithless actions. They saw a young woman willing to sacrifice her own future to uphold an alliance and honor a fallen hero. They saw a true Luna.

Alpha Arthur, a man who valued strength and strategy, gave his consent.

The decision was made. I would marry the dead.

The story spread beyond the Johnston lands, through the elite circles of Silverwood Capital. Overnight, the narrative shifted. Chace and Blake were no longer a romantic couple overcoming obstacles; they were seen as dishonorable usurpers.

And I, Eller Dawson, the wolfless orphan, was suddenly a figure of tragic nobility. A woman defined by loyalty.

They had no idea that my loyalty was only to the dead of my own pack. And my idea of honor was vengeance.