Rejected by the Alpha's Luna

The flames of Emma's ritual fire danced before me, casting long shadows across the walls of her private den in the Crescent Valley territory. Three days had passed since my desperate flight from the Silvermoon Pack, yet the wound of Marcus's public humiliation still felt raw, bleeding afresh whenever I closed my eyes.

Emma had arranged this ritual with quiet efficiency, gathering the sacred herbs and setting the protective circle away from curious eyes. As a Delta, she couldn't officially sanction my rejection of an Alpha mate bond, but she could offer this—a sister's sanctuary and the ancient ritual space for what I needed to do.

"Are you certain?" Emma asked, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames between us. "Once you formally announce your intention to reject the bond, there's no turning back."

I stared into the fire, watching the dried wolfsbane and sage curl and blacken. The silver light of my healing gift flickered at my fingertips—weaker than it once was, but still mine. Still powerful.

"I've never been more certain of anything," I said, my voice steadier than it had been in years.

Sarah, my wolf, paced restlessly within me, her silver presence agitated but resolute. *It's time,* she urged. *Speak the words.*

I took a deep breath and extended my hands over the sacred flames. "I, Victoria Sterling, Luna of the Silvermoon Pack, hereby declare my intention to reject the mate bond with Alpha Marcus Sterling. Under the witness of the Moon Goddess and this sacred fire, I begin the path of severance."

The flames leaped higher as I spoke, as if the Goddess herself acknowledged my declaration. A strange lightness spread through my chest—not happiness, but something like the first breath after nearly drowning.

Emma's eyes widened. "Your aura... it's changing."

I looked down at my hands. The silver light that had always surrounded me—the mark of my healing gift—flickered and pulsed with new vitality, like a star emerging from behind clouds.

"He can't hurt us anymore," I whispered, more to myself than to Emma.

The ritual fire crackled, sending sparks spiraling upward into the night. As if summoned by the declaration, a familiar pressure built behind my temples—the sensation of an incoming mind-link.

*Victoria.* Marcus's voice invaded my thoughts, his tone a mixture of command and feigned concern. *This foolishness has gone on long enough. Return to the pack house immediately.*

I closed my eyes, focusing on the mental wall I'd begun constructing the moment I fled. *No.*

*You're being ridiculous,* he continued, his mental voice carrying that same dismissive edge I'd endured for years. *Whatever you think happened at the ceremony was a misunderstanding. Ashley means nothing—*

*You used your Alpha voice on me,* I interrupted, my mental voice stronger than I expected. *You called me weak and worthless before our entire pack. There is no misunderstanding.*

His frustration leaked through the weakening bond. *You're overreacting. Come home, and we'll discuss this properly.*

*There's nothing to discuss. I've declared my intention to reject our bond.*

The shock that reverberated through our fading connection was almost satisfying. Before he could respond, I pushed him from my mind and reinforced my mental barriers.

The pressure changed, becoming lighter, less commanding but equally unwelcome. Ethan.

*Mom,* my son's voice carried the same dismissive tone his father had perfected. *You're being dramatic. Dad's furious, and you're embarrassing everyone.*

Pain lanced through my heart at his words, sharper than anything Marcus could inflict. *Embarrassing everyone? Like when you gave my Luna crystal to Ashley?*

*She deserves it more,* he replied without hesitation. *She actually acts like a proper Luna. You've always been so... quiet. So weak.*

I flinched as if struck. My own child, parroting his father's cruelty.

*I won't be coming back, Ethan,* I told him, struggling to keep my mental voice steady. *Perhaps someday you'll understand.*

I severed the connection before he could respond, my hands trembling as I lowered them from the ritual fire. Emma reached across the flames to grasp my fingers, her touch anchoring me as tears slid silently down my cheeks.

"They'll never understand," I whispered. "To them, I'm nothing but a convenience."

"Then they don't deserve you," Emma replied fiercely.

The den door burst open, slamming against the stone wall with a crack that made both of us jump. Ethan stood in the doorway, his seventeen-year-old frame vibrating with barely contained rage, his eyes glowing with the amber light of his wolf.

"So this is where you've been hiding," he snarled, stalking into the sacred space without permission. "While our pack falls into chaos."

I rose to my feet, instinctively placing myself between him and Emma. "How did you find me?"

"Your scent," he spat, as if the answer should be obvious. "Dad's been too proud to come himself, but I knew you'd run to Aunt Emma."

Before I could respond, he lunged forward, his hand shooting out toward my throat. I felt the chain of my remaining ceremonial necklace—the last symbol of my Luna status—snap as he yanked it from my neck.

"Ashley needs this more than you do," he growled, his young face twisted into an expression so like his father's that my heart broke all over again. "She'll be a real Luna. Not some shadow hiding in the healing rooms."

The silver pendant dangled from his fist, catching the firelight as Emma surged to her feet with a protective growl.

"Get out," she snarled, her Delta authority filling the small space. "You have no right to enter my den uninvited, let alone assault your mother."

Ethan's eyes narrowed, his lip curling in a sneer that made him look both older and smaller simultaneously. "She's not the Luna anymore. She's nothing."

As he turned to leave, the necklace clutched in his white-knuckled grip, something hardened inside me. The last thread of hope I'd harbored for reconciliation—the desperate mother's belief that my son would eventually see through his father's influence—snapped as cleanly as the silver chain he'd torn from my throat.

Sarah howled within me, a sound of such primal grief and rage that I nearly shifted right there in Emma's ritual space. But instead, I remained still, watching my son's retreating back with a strange, cold clarity.

The rejection ceremony couldn't come soon enough.