Rejecting the Alpha

The infirmary smelled like antiseptic and something sweeter—lavender, maybe, meant to calm nervous wolves before their pre-ceremony assessments. It didn't work. My hands trembled as I rolled down the sleeve of my shirt, watching Dr. Callahan label the vial of my blood with practiced efficiency.

"All done, Amelia," she said, offering a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She'd been the pack physician for twenty years and had seen enough Omegas like me to know better than to waste genuine warmth. "Results will be ready in an hour. You can get dressed."

I nodded, slipping behind the privacy screen. Through the gap in the curtain, I caught movement—Juliet, my foster sister, practically materializing in the doorway with that innocent smile she wore like a weapon.

"Dr. Callahan, I'm so sorry to interrupt," Juliet's voice dripped with manufactured concern. "Mother sent me to ask about the dietary restrictions before the ceremony. She's worried the catering might include—"

I tugged my shirt over my head, only half-listening. Juliet always had some excuse to insert herself into my business, some reason to hover. Years of living under the same roof had taught me to recognize her presence the way prey recognizes a circling predator.

When I emerged from behind the screen, Juliet was leaning against Dr. Callahan's desk, gesturing animatedly while the physician shuffled through a filing cabinet on the opposite wall, her back turned. For just a heartbeat, Juliet's hand moved—quick, practiced—switching two manila folders on the desk before she straightened, smile never faltering.

Something cold slithered down my spine.

"Oh, Amelia!" Juliet turned to me, eyes wide. "I didn't realize you were still here. How did it go?"

"Fine." I kept my voice flat, measured. The wooden wolf charm Serena had given me pressed against my palm in my pocket, a small anchor of comfort. *Don't engage. Don't give her anything.*

Dr. Callahan returned with a stack of pamphlets, handing them to Juliet. "Here you are, dear. And Amelia, your results will be sent directly to the Black Moon Pack's Beta as per protocol. Congratulations on finding your mate."

The word *mate* should have filled me with warmth. Killian Ellis—future Alpha of the Black Moon Pack, powerful, commanding, *mine*. The bond had clicked into place three days ago at the territory summit, a pull so intense I'd barely been able to breathe. For the first time in my life, I would belong to someone. Be chosen. Cherished.

But standing in that infirmary with Juliet's syrup-sweet smile fixed on me, all I felt was dread.

---

The study in our family's wing of the packhouse had always felt like a courtroom. Dark wood paneling absorbed what little light filtered through the narrow windows, and the leather chairs positioned before Gamma Morrison's desk might as well have been a defendant's bench.

I stood there now, hours after the infirmary visit, with my adoptive parents arranged before me like judges. Luna Morrison perched on the edge of her seat, spine rigid, hands folded in her lap with that particular tension that meant she was furious but maintaining appearances. Gamma Morrison stood behind his desk, jaw tight.

"Sit," he said. Not a request.

I remained standing. Small acts of defiance were all I had left. "What is this about?"

Luna Morrison's laugh was sharp, brittle. "As if you don't know. Did you really think you could hide it? That we wouldn't find out?"

My stomach dropped. "Hide what?"

"Your *condition*." Gamma Morrison's voice dripped with disgust. He slid a document across the desk—my health assessment, stamped with a bright red warning: **BIOHAZARD/REJECT. CODE RED: CONTAGIOUS BLOOD PATHOGEN.**

The world tilted. I grabbed the edge of the desk, staring at words that couldn't possibly be real. "That's not—there's been a mistake. I'm not sick, I—"

"The physician confirmed it," Luna Morrison cut in, each word a blade. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The Black Moon Pack alliance is the most important strategic relationship we've cultivated in a decade. And now their future Alpha is mated to a *diseased Omega*."

"I'm not sick!" My voice cracked, desperation bleeding through. "There has to be an error with the lab results. Test me again, I'll—"

"The inter-pack run is tomorrow." Gamma Morrison's tone left no room for argument. "Killian Ellis will see this report. He will reject you publicly, as is his right. The alliance will collapse unless we offer an alternative."

Juliet. Of course. I saw it before he even spoke her name—the way Luna Morrison's expression shifted from disgust to calculation, the folder already prepared on the desk corner.

"Juliet will take your place as his Luna," Gamma Morrison continued. "She's healthy, suitable, and willing to fulfill the duty you've proven incapable of meeting."

"You can't—" The protest died in my throat. They could. They would. In their eyes, I'd always been a tool, a political asset inherited along with grandfather's territory. And now I was a broken tool to be discarded.

"Furthermore," Luna Morrison added, voice smooth as poison, "you will sign over the deed to your grandfather's hunting grounds. Consider it a dowry for Juliet—compensation to the Black Moon Pack for your... inadequacy."

The territory. Of course. The one thing my grandfather had given me, the one piece of security I'd had. They'd been circling it for years, resentful that Lycan blood had passed me resources instead of their precious Morrison bloodline.

I thought of Serena, my only real friend, probably waiting for my call tonight to hear about the ceremony preparations. I thought of the mate bond, that fragile thread of hope I'd clung to—the belief that discovering Killian meant I would finally, *finally* belong somewhere.

And I thought of Juliet's hand, moving across Dr. Callahan's desk.

"No," I said quietly.

Gamma Morrison's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I said no." I met his gaze, kept my voice steady even as my heart hammered against my ribs. "I won't sign anything. Not until I understand what's actually happening."

Luna Morrison rose, face twisted with contempt. "You ungrateful—after everything we've done for you, raising you, giving you a home—"

"You gave me nothing," I interrupted, and watched her recoil as if I'd struck her. "You've treated me like a servant since the day I arrived. But grandfather's will was clear. That territory is mine. And I'm not giving it up because of a medical report I don't believe is accurate."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

"You'll regret this," Gamma Morrison said finally, each word deliberate. "Tomorrow, when Killian Ellis rejects you in front of both packs—when you're kneeling in the dirt, feeling that bond shatter—remember you chose this."

I turned and walked out before they could see my hands shaking, before the tears I'd been holding back could fall.

In my pocket, Serena's wooden wolf charm dug into my palm.

I had less than twenty-four hours before everything fell apart.