The Alpha's Mistake: Rejecting His True Fated Luna

I was dying of late-stage Silver-blood Syndrome, so I swallowed my pride and entrusted our six-year-old daughter to my ex-husband, the powerful Pack Alpha.

But instead of showing mercy, he looked at my pale face with absolute disgust.

He thought I was abandoning our pup to run off with another man.

"If you cannot raise our bloodline properly, I will strip your custody rights forever."

He proudly paraded his new Luna and her son, leaving me to endure the agonizing poison completely alone.

I vomited silver blood in a cold hospital room until my heart finally flatlined.

He didn't even know I was dead until my body was sent to the Pack morgue.

As my soul slipped away, I couldn't understand why he broke our fated mate bond for a woman who masked her true scent with cheap chemical perfumes.

Why did he let me rot in the slums while he lovingly raised a Rogue's child as his own heir?

But the Moon Goddess refused to take my life.

Three years later, I woke up from a sacred medical stasis, no longer a weak Omega, but the legendary White Wolf.

When my ex-husband discovered his new wife's deception and came crawling back in tears to beg for a second chance, I calmly turned away.

This time, I chose the man who stayed by my deathbed, leaving the great Alpha to drown in his own regret.

Chapter 1

Serena POV

The cold wind outside the Pack Hospital bit into my skin.

The splinters of the wooden bench pressed into my thighs through my thin coat, a small, insistent discomfort. In my hands, the phone's screen cast a cold, blue light onto my face as my thumb moved through the endless scroll of Pack-net, the internal social network built specifically for our hidden werewolf society.

Right at the top of my feed was a new video posted by Alpha Silas.

As the leader of the Silver Moon Pack, he controlled a massive modern business empire and commanded thousands of wolves.

He was also my ex-husband.

In the video, Silas was in the forest behind the grand Packhouse. He was patiently guiding a little boy on how to track a rabbit.

The boy was Milo, the pup of his current wife, Sonia.

I scrolled down to the comments. The lower-ranking wolves were merciless.

"Look at our Alpha. He treats Sonia's pup better than his own flesh and blood."

"Can you blame him? Serena is just a weak Omega. She lives in the slums now. Sonia is a real star."

"Serena probably thought giving him a pup would keep her in the main house. Pathetic."

I locked my phone screen. The dark glass gave back a stranger's face—a pale, hollowed-out mask.

I looked down at the white medical paper trembling in my hands.

It was my final diagnosis.

Silver-blood Syndrome. Late stage.

Silver was the ultimate poison to our kind. It was the only metal that could bypass a werewolf's rapid healing and bring true death.

This rare genetic defect meant my own body was producing silver. My blood was slowly turning into the very thing that killed us.

It was a death sentence.

I closed my eyes, reaching deep into my mind to open the Mind-Link.

I searched for Silas's unique mental signature. I had not reached out to him in five years.

Silas. Please. I pushed my thoughts toward him through the private channel we once shared as mates.

Nothing came back. Only a cold, empty wall.

He had completely blocked my mental mark. He had shut me out of his mind a long time ago.

A sudden pressure built behind my ribs, as if a heavy stone were being slowly ground into dust inside my chest.

I gasped for air, tasting the metallic, bitter flavor of silver in the back of my throat. A strange, white flicker pulsed beneath the silver sheen—there and gone so fast I thought I imagined it.

I pulled out my phone and dialed his normal human number.

He answered on the third ring.

"Speak," his voice came through the speaker, deep and impatient.

"Silas," I breathed out, fighting the tremor in my voice. "It is Serena. I need you to take Maya to the Packhouse. Just for a little while."

Maya was our six-year-old pup. She was the small hand that clutched my shirt in her sleep, the one reason my eyes opened each morning.

"You're calling me during work for this?" Silas interrupted.

His voice carried the Alpha's Command. It was the absolute, undeniable power of a Pack leader.

Even through the phone, the sheer force of his tone made my Omega instincts scream to submit. My knees went weak.

"I can't take care of her right now," I pleaded softly.

"Address," he ordered coldly.

I gave him the address of the old, run-down apartment building on the very edge of his territory. It was the place he gave me after our divorce.

The line went dead silent.

I knew he was judging the location. Then, he simply hung up.

I dragged my failing body into a taxi and headed back to my small territory.

When the cab pulled up to my building, I saw a sleek, black Maybach parked by the broken sidewalk.

Silas was already here.

Even before I stepped out of the car, the scent of him preceded him, a wave of pine and cold air that seemed to physically push the breath from my lungs. It was an invasive presence, making me take an involuntary half-step back.

It was an overwhelming Alpha pheromone that demanded total obedience from everyone around him.

I walked up to him. He was wearing a custom dark suit, looking like a king standing in a pile of dirt.

"I have an appointment to collect Sonia's pup from camp in an hour," Silas said without looking at me. "I am not waiting. Get her."

He followed me into the dark, narrow stairwell. His sheer bulk seemed to steal the air from the cramped passage, the walls themselves feeling as if they had drawn closer.

I unlocked the door to my apartment.

"Mommy!" Maya cheered.

My sweet pup ran across the faded rug and threw her arms around my legs. "I cleaned my room today!"

Then, she froze.

Her tiny nose twitched. She smelled the strange, dominant male behind me.

Maya let go of me and stepped forward. Her human eyes suddenly flashed into bright, golden wolf slits.

A low, territorial growl rumbled in her small chest. She stood in front of me, spreading her arms as if to shield me from a predator.

She was only six, but her instincts knew this Alpha did not belong in our nest.

I quickly knelt and grabbed her small shoulders.

"Maya, listen to me," I forced a smile. "Mommy has a very important Pack mission. I have to go away for work."

Maya's wolf eyes vanished, replaced by pooling tears.

"No!" she cried, shaking her head. "I will not go with him! I can hunt for you, Mommy! I can take care of us!"

Silas stepped fully into the room. His boots clicked heavily on the cheap floorboards.

"Serena," Silas said, his voice dripping with disgust. "You're making a six-year-old bear the weight of your failures?"

I looked up at him, a sharp, acidic pang twisting in my gut.

"Look at Milo," Silas continued coldly. "He is independent and strong. If you cannot raise our bloodline properly, I will use my Alpha privilege to strip your custody rights forever."

I met his cold gaze and felt, for the first time, not pain but a strange, hollow calm. If only he knew that in three months, custody would no longer be his to strip—or mine to keep.

I opened my mouth to speak, but a sudden, sharp pain lanced through my chest, and I tasted silver on my tongue. The white flicker pulsed again, stronger this time, and for the briefest moment, Silas's eyes narrowed—as if he had seen something. But the moment passed, and his expression hardened once more. I swallowed the metallic taste and said nothing. My secrets would die with me.