Rejected, Then Chosen Mate

The morning after our hasty mating ceremony, I stood in the doorway of my old room at the Silver Moon Pack house, my heart pounding against my ribs. The mark on my neck still tingled—a constant reminder of the life-altering decision I'd made last night. Marcus had wanted to come with me, but I insisted on doing this alone. This was my closure, my final goodbye to seven wasted years.

The hallways had been eerily quiet as I walked through them, met with cold stares and barely concealed smirks from the pack warriors who once greeted me with respect. Their whispers followed me like shadows.

"Look who's back."

"Abandoned our Alpha for a stronger one."

"Always knew she wasn't Luna material."

Lyra growled within me, bristling at their disrespect. *We are a Luna now,* she reminded me. *Their true Luna.*

I squared my shoulders and continued walking, Marcus's mark giving me a confidence I'd never felt before. It was strange how quickly everything had changed—how one decisive action had transformed me from a perpetually waiting girlfriend to the Luna of the powerful Crescent Ridge Pack.

I pushed open the door to my old room, expecting to find it as I'd left it yesterday—neat, organized, filled with the few possessions I'd accumulated over seven years of waiting. Instead, I froze in the doorway, my breath catching painfully in my throat.

Destruction greeted me. My clothes had been torn from the closet, ripped and scattered across the floor. The framed photo of my grandmother and me lay shattered, glass fragments glittering like tears on the hardwood. My books—my precious escape during the lonely nights Ryan spent with Amanda—had been thrown against the walls, their spines broken, pages ripped out and crumpled.

But what brought me to my knees was the sight of my grandmother's quilt—the one she'd spent months making for my mating ceremony, stitching into it all her hopes and blessings for my future. It lay in the center of the room, deliberately shredded into unrecognizable strips, the intricate patterns my grandmother had lovingly created now nothing but tattered remnants.

"No," I whispered, gathering the pieces in trembling hands. "No, no, no."

Tears blurred my vision as I tried futilely to piece the fabric back together. This wasn't just property damage—this was a desecration of the most precious gift I owned, the physical embodiment of my grandmother's love.

"I see you found my handiwork."

I whirled around to find Amanda leaning against the doorframe, her lips curved in a satisfied smile. She looked immaculate as always, her blonde hair falling in perfect waves, her eyes glittering with malice.

"You did this?" My voice shook with rage.

"Someone had to teach you what happens to traitors," she said, examining her manicured nails. "Though I must say, I enjoyed it more than I expected. Especially that pathetic little blanket."

Lyra surged within me, demanding release, demanding retribution. I felt my eyes shift, knew they were glowing with my wolf's fury.

"That 'pathetic little blanket' was made by my dying grandmother," I said, rising to my feet, the shredded pieces clutched in my hand.

"How touching," Amanda mocked. "Almost as touching as watching Ryan rush to my side yesterday while you stood abandoned at the altar. Again."

I lunged forward, unable to contain my rage any longer, but a commanding voice stopped me mid-motion.

"What's going on here?"

Ryan stood in the hallway, his expression thunderous. His eyes darted between Amanda's smug face and my tear-streaked one, then to the destruction around us.

"She destroyed my things," I said, holding out the remnants of my grandmother's quilt. "Look what she did to my grandmother's gift."

Ryan's gaze barely flickered to the shredded fabric before returning to Amanda. "Is this true?"

"Of course not," Amanda said, her voice instantly transforming into the breathy, vulnerable tone she reserved for him. "I came to check on her things and found everything like this. She's just trying to blame me because she's jealous. You know how unstable she's been lately."

I stared at Ryan, waiting for him to see through her obvious lie, to remember the seven years I'd stood faithfully by his side. Instead, his expression hardened as he looked at me.

"You abandon our pack, betray our bond, and now you come back to accuse Amanda?" His voice dropped dangerously low. "You've become paranoid, Sophia."

"Paranoid?" I echoed in disbelief. "Look around you, Ryan! Look what she's done!"

"Enough!" he roared, his Alpha aura suddenly filling the room, pressing down on me like a physical weight.

I gasped as the pressure forced me to my knees, the remnants of my grandmother's quilt still clutched in my trembling hands. Through our severed bond, he shouldn't have been able to affect me this way—but he was using his full Alpha power, something he'd never directed at me before.

As I struggled to breathe under the crushing weight of his dominance, one thought crystallized in my mind: This man had never loved me. Not once in seven years.