Rejected by the Alpha Who Claimed Me

I waited for the rain to stop before heading back to the Crimson Fang Pack house. The storm had mirrored the turmoil in my chest, each drop a reminder of the shattered mate bond that once tied me to Ashton Cox.

I planned to pack my belongings and leave for good, but when I slipped my key into the lock, it wouldn’t turn. The lock had been changed. My breath hitched as I stood there, frozen for a moment, before fumbling for my phone to call Ashton. But before I could dial, the door swung open.

Lillian Lee, the former Luna of the Crimson Fang Pack, stood in the entrance, flanked by a group of Omegas. Her icy glare bore into me like a blade.

“Oh, isn’t this the female my son finally let go?” Her voice dripped with disdain. “Why are you shamelessly returning? Did you think you could sneak in and steal something while the Alpha was away?”

My fingers tightened around the hem of my shirt, my voice trembling. “Luna Lee, I didn’t—”

“Enough!” she snapped, cutting me off with a sharp wave of her hand. She turned to the Omegas behind her. “Throw her things out.”

My belongings were hurled out the door one by one. My clothes, my keepsakes, even my sketchbook landed in the muddy puddle outside. Every page of that sketchbook was filled with drawings of Ashton. I’d spent ten years learning to draw for him, capturing his form in moments of quiet devotion.

But he’d always mocked it as “a silly hobby,” never letting me share my art with others. Even when a renowned manager from the Lycan Kingdom spotted my sketches on Instagram and offered to mentor me, Ashton had dismissed it, making me feel small and unworthy.

Biting my lip, I lunged to rescue the sketches, only to discover a folded love letter from Karter Hayes tucked between the pages. My breath caught as I read his words: *“Amaya’s eyes are like shattered stars.”*

I must have taken the sketchbook to therapy at some point; I hadn’t even noticed when he’d slipped it in. Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the rain soaking my skin.

Lillian loomed over me, her voice sharp and unforgiving. “Why are you crying? You’ve had enough of the Cox family’s charity for ten years. It’s time you left.”

She grabbed my arm, her grip like iron, and dragged me toward the gate. I clutched the letter to my chest, letting the mud and rain soak through my clothes as I was shoved out into the storm.

The cold bit into my skin, but the ache in my chest was worse. The mate bond, though broken, still burned faintly, a cruel reminder of what once was. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, a quiet echo of the pain I couldn’t voice.

As the door slammed shut behind me, I stood there, shivering and alone, the letter from Karter the only warmth I had left.