Rejected by the Alpha, Crowned by His Enemy

"We need to discuss the succession," Thomas announced. His voice bounced off the stone walls.

The great hall had once been my home. Tonight, it felt like an executioner's block.

I stood beneath the massive iron Blackthorn crest. Damian sat on the Alpha throne.

Selene occupied the seat beside him. My seat.

My fingernails bit into my palms.

"Damian just walked through the gates," I said.

"He has a son," Thomas countered.

"A son born of a stranger," I shot back.

"Watch your tone," Thomas warned, stepping down from the dais.

"I am the Luna of this pack. I will speak how I please. I spent three years bleeding for this."

"You did your duty," Thomas replied coldly.

"Duty? When the northern tribes raided the border, I stood on those exact steps and ordered our soldiers to fight. I opened the palace vaults when rot took the western harvest."

"That is the past."

"I sold my own mother's jewelry to buy grain for your people, Thomas! I thought I was holding Damian's kingdom together."

Dead silence filled the great hall.

Selene dropped her gaze to her lap.

Damian glared at me. "You claim a title I did not give you."

"You gave it to me three years ago."

"I remember nothing of the sort."

I wanted to scream until my throat tore. Instead, the memories came flooding back.

Eighteen years old. A silver altar. Thousands of wolves howling under the full moon.

Damian had been nineteen, the newly named heir. Every elder expected a political match.

He crossed the sacred circle and offered his hand.

"Elara."

"You're serious?" I had whispered.

"I've never been more serious."

"I'm an orphan, Damian. The elders will never accept me."

"Let them try to stop us."

"A political match would secure the eastern borders."

"I don't care where you came from," he interrupted, pressing his forehead to mine. "I care where we're going."

Then his teeth broke the skin of my neck.

Pain flared, quickly swallowed by brilliant white light. Our wolves collided. A soul recognizing its other half.

"You are my Luna," he murmured against my pulse. "No matter what happens, no one takes you from me."

He made believing that promise so easy.

He used to steal bacon from my plate. He slept with his heavy arm pinned across my waist.

Once, I worked past midnight reviewing border patrols. He marched into the council chamber and hoisted me over his shoulder.

"You're exhausted," he had declared.

"I'm working. The southern patrols need these orders by dawn."

"The patrols can wait."

"Damian, put me down."

"You're my Luna."

"I know."

"Then act like it."

"What?"

"Sleeping." He dropped me onto the mattress and crawled in beside me, pulling the heavy furs over us.

"You're impossible."

"And you're obsessed with me."

I kissed his jaw, tracing the stubble there. "I am."

"I know."

He loved my crooked smile. He loved the ugly scar on my knee from when I fell out of a tree as a pup.

"You smell like white tea," he used to say, burying his face in my neck. "My wolf finally feels at peace. You smell like home."

Now the stranger on the throne reeked of poisoned flowers. The scent coated the entire room.

The rejection started long before anyone spoke the words. The old bond twisted deep inside my chest.

It felt like a physical weight crushing my ribs. Not severed. Just mangled. A rusted knife dragging slowly through my soul, cutting deeper with every second he spent looking at her instead of me.

"Selene has given this family an heir," Thomas pushed, bringing me back to the cold room.

"I am his wife," I said.

Martha stepped out from the shadows. She wore the same silver shawl I had gifted her last winter. "You *were* his wife."

I turned my attention to his mother, betrayal tasting bitter on my tongue. "Your son has forgotten."

"Exactly. The Moon Goddess gave him a fresh start."

Whispers erupted across the room. Council members exchanged dark looks.

Selene reached out. Her pale fingers brushed Damian's sleeve.

He immediately directed his attention to her.

The movement was effortless. Intimate. Automatic.

I despised myself for tracking the motion. I hated myself even more for remembering how he used to do the exact same thing to me whenever a council meeting grew too tense.

"Let me speak with him privately," I demanded, stepping closer to the dais.

"Halt," a guard ordered, crossing his spear.

Damian's jaw set. "No."

"Five minutes, Damian. Just you and me."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Please."

"No."

"I can help you remember. I know things about you that no one else knows."

His features hardened into stone. "What makes you think I want to remember?"

I flinched. The physical jerk of my shoulders betrayed me.

Damian caught the movement. Something inside him fractured.

He didn't understand why. A strange, heavy pressure bloomed behind his eyes.

*A silver altar.*

*Rain slicking the cobblestones.*

*A woman's bright laughter.*

*White tea.*

His skull throbbed violently. Damian snatched the carved armrest. His knuckles turned white against the dark wood.

"Alpha?" a guard asked, stepping forward.

Selene bolted upright, her porcelain face twisting with worry. "Damian? Are you unwell?"

He waved her off. He squeezed his eyes shut.

For a fraction of a second, an image flashed through his mind. A different life.

My hair whipping in the summer wind. My hands locked behind his neck. My smile, bright and unbroken.

*You promised you'd come back.*

His chest heaved. He opened his eyes.

I stood exactly where he left me. Watching him. Waiting for the man I loved to break through the stranger's skin.

Raw terror bled into Damian's golden irises.

Not hatred. Not anger.

He was terrified because the monster inside his head was whispering that I was telling the truth.

"Get her out of my sight," Damian choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

But as the guards moved forward to grab my arms, I saw his hand trembling against the armrest—a single, undeniable crack in his armor that promised the storm was only just beginning.