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Rejecting My Cruel Alpha For His Rival Novel Cover

Rejecting My Cruel Alpha For His Rival

Expecting a miracle to save her bond with Alpha Ryker, a pregnant luna is instead framed for murder by her cousin, Serena. Ryker’s brutal Alpha Command nearly kills his true mate and their unborn child before he discards her in the woods. Rescued by his rival, Alpha Silvercrest, she realizes Ryker gave Serena credit for her past sacrifices. She returns not to beg, but to demand a formal rejection, threatening to expose the truth to the council.
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Chapter 5

Elara Thorne POV:

The pup cemetery was as silent as the grave it was, tucked away on a hill where the only sounds were the whisper of the wind through the pines and the rustle of dry leaves. I walked to the small, nameless stone, my fingers tracing the familiar carving of the moonflower as I brushed away the fallen pine needles.

I knelt in the soft earth before it, placing the small bouquet of white wildflowers I’d gathered on the way at its base. My hand trembled as I touched the cold, unyielding stone, a poor substitute for the child I never got to hold.

"I'm sorry, my love," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Your father forgot you. But I never will. I will always remember."

The grief was a physical force, a crushing weight on my chest. It mingled with the rage, the despair, and the profound weakness of my pregnancy, creating a toxic, overwhelming cocktail.

The edges of my vision began to blur. The world spun, and a sharp, twisting pain shot through my abdomen.

*Elara, our energy… it’s almost gone…* Lyra’s warning was faint, a distant echo in my fading consciousness.

I tried to push myself up, to stand, but my limbs refused to obey. The world dissolved into a swirling vortex of black, and I knew no more. I collapsed in a heap beside my child’s grave.

I don't know how long I was out. The next thing I knew,I dimly sensed the presence of someone. A gnarled, elderly figure stood over me. It was Elias, the pack’s groundskeeper and the silent, solitary caretaker of this sacred ground. He knelt, his rough fingers checking for a pulse at my neck.

He pulled out an old, beat-up cell phone and dialed a number. When it connected, his voice was low and deferential. "Miss Serena. It's done, just as you planned. The Luna is unconscious."

A pause. I could faintly hear Serena's satisfied voice on the other end.

"Very good, Elias," she must have said, because his next words were, "I'll take her to the address you sent. No one will see us."

He hung up and, with surprising strength for a man his age, lifted me into his arms. He moved with purpose, avoiding the main paths and cutting through the dense woods. He carried me to an old pickup truck hidden deep among the trees and laid me in the passenger seat.

The engine rumbled to life, and the jostling of the truck on the uneven terrain brought me back to full consciousness. I blinked, disoriented, the unfamiliar cab of the truck slowly coming into focus. I saw Elias behind the wheel and alarm bells shrieked in my head.

"Elias? Where are we? Where are you taking me?" I asked, my voice weak.

He didn't look at me. His eyes were fixed on the dirt road ahead. "You'll see soon enough, Luna," he said, his tone devoid of any emotion.

A cold dread washed over me. This was no rescue. This was a kidnapping.

My hand fumbled for the door handle, but it was locked. I thought of reaching out to Ryker through our mind-link, but the thought died with a bitter, self-mocking laugh. He was likely at Serena’s side, cooing over her feigned illness. He wouldn't care. He wouldn't come.

The truck eventually pulled up to a beautiful, secluded villa I had never seen before, nestled on the very edge of our territory. Elias got out, came around, and opened my door.

"We're here, Luna," he said, his face impassive. "Miss Serena is waiting for you inside."

Serena. The name was a confirmation of my worst fears. This was all her doing. This was a trap.

I took a deep breath, my hand instinctively going to my belly. The faint life within was a reminder of what I was fighting for. If she wanted a confrontation, she would get one. I would not be a lamb to the slaughter. I slid out of the truck, my eyes cold and sharp, and prepared to walk into the lion's den.

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