Rejected, Yet Victorious

I was in the kitchen preparing Margaret's favorite breakfast when I felt it—a sudden tension in the air, like the moment before lightning strikes. Roman stood in the doorway, his face pale as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Roman?" I set down the spoon I'd been using to stir oatmeal. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer immediately. His eyes were distant, unfocused—the way they looked when he was receiving a mind-link. I watched as his expression shifted from shock to something like panic.

"Skye," he whispered, so softly I almost didn't hear it.

My wolf stirred inside me, instantly alert. I kept my face neutral, though my heart hammered against my ribs. "What about Skye?"

Roman shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "Nothing. Just... pack business."

But I knew better. I'd seen that look before—when something significant happened with his mistress. And the way his hand trembled slightly as he reached for his coffee mug told me everything I needed to know.

"I need to make a call," he said abruptly, already pulling out his phone.

I nodded, turning back to Margaret's breakfast as if nothing unusual had happened. But as soon as Roman stepped outside, I followed, keeping my distance as my Luna instincts guided me to stay hidden.

I couldn't hear his words, but I could see his gestures—agitated, urgent. And then his face transformed with a mixture of shock and something that looked disturbingly like joy.

"She's sure?" I heard him say, his voice carrying on the morning breeze. "How far along?"

My blood turned to ice. A pup. Skye was claiming to be carrying Roman's pup.

"I'll handle it," Roman continued, pacing now. "The ceremony is tomorrow anyway. I'll reject Marina then, as planned. But now we need to make it official immediately after."

I pressed my back against the wall, my fingers finding my Luna pendant and clutching it tightly. Tomorrow. They were moving up their timeline.

Which meant I needed to accelerate mine.

---

"I need to speak with you privately, Elder Lydia," I said, finding the oldest member of our pack council in her garden, pruning roses with gnarled but steady hands.

Lydia Blackthorn had been with the Moonstone Pack for over sixty years. Her silver hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her eyes—still sharp despite her age—studied me carefully.

"Luna Marina," she replied, setting down her shears. "What brings you to an old woman's garden?"

"I need your counsel. And your support."

I followed her into her cottage, where the scent of dried herbs and old books permeated the air. We sat at her worn kitchen table, and I placed my phone between us.

"Elder Lydia," I began, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "I've discovered something that affects the future of our pack."

I showed her everything—the financial records, Skye's social media posts, the evidence of Roman's betrayal. With each image, Lydia's expression grew graver.

"These are serious accusations, Luna," she finally said. "And tomorrow is the Alpha succession ceremony."

"I know." I met her gaze directly. "That's why I need your support when I expose him."

She didn't flinch at my words. Instead, she studied me with new respect. "You intend to challenge your Alpha publicly."

It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "Yes."

"And what of your daughter?"

The mention of Margaret made my resolve harden. "I'm protecting my daughter's future. Roman has betrayed not just me, but our entire pack."

Lydia nodded slowly, her weathered hands folding in her lap. "The pack laws are clear. A Luna wronged has the right to demand justice." She paused. "And I have noticed changes in our Alpha lately."

"Will you stand with me?"

She reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. "I will stand for what is right, Luna Marina. And if what you say is true..."

"Every word is true," I assured her.

---

By afternoon, I could feel the undercurrent of whispers throughout the pack grounds. Young wolves huddled in groups, their eyes following me with newfound curiosity—or was it pity?

"Heard Luna Marina's too old-fashioned," a young she-wolf named Cassie was saying to her friend as I passed. "Skye says the pack needs new energy."

I kept walking, my head high, though my wolf growled within me.

"Skye says the Alpha needs a Luna who can keep up with him," another voice added. "Not someone who just organizes pack dinners and flower arrangements."

I turned sharply, catching three young pack members exchanging glances.

"Is there something you'd like to share with me directly?" I asked, my Luna aura flaring slightly.

They scattered like startled birds, but the damage was done. Skye had been busy poisoning the younger generation against me.

As I walked toward the pack house, I saw her across the grounds—Skye Williams, with her perfect smile and calculating eyes. She was surrounded by a group of young males, all hanging on her every word.

Our eyes met across the distance, and she smiled—a smile that said she'd already won.

But she had no idea what was coming.

Tomorrow wasn't just Roman's succession ceremony.

It was going to be his downfall.