The Luna’s Rejection

In a low, almost pleading tone, Lucian tried to justify himself. “Rowan, Ivy has been through so much raising a pup by herself. She doesn’t have anyone else in the pack to lean on. I’m just trying to help her out.”

His words cut deep, sharp and biting like claws on my skin. He always seemed to forget that I was alone in this pack too, reliant on him in the same way Ivy relied on him now.

“I get it,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. My calm exterior hid the storm swirling within me.

“Rowan, what does that even mean? Why are you speaking like that?” He was losing his grip, his voice escalating with anger.

“I said I get it,” I repeated, my calm voice turning steely, “Is that a problem?”

“Do you have to talk to me like this?” he snapped, irritation bleeding through his words.

“What do you want me to say?” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. The silence that followed was heavy, thick like fog in the forest. Finally, he muttered under his breath, “Fine, do whatever you want,” before abruptly hanging up.

Wasn’t it just typical? He used to call me clingy whenever I questioned why he was always with Ivy. And when I’d call to ask when he’d be home, I was the unreasonable one. Now, even my attempts to understand him turned me into the target of his ire.

I tossed my phone onto the counter with a weary sigh, pushing the encounter from my mind. There were more important things to focus on—like the pack documents sprawled across the table in front of me.

After my shift at the clinic ended, I took my time cleaning up, delaying my return to the den as long as possible. When I finally arrived home, Lucian was already gone, leaving only the lingering scent of him behind. I washed off the grime of the day and collapsed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some solace. Just as I started to drift into the realm of dreams, my phone buzzed incessantly, pulling me back to reality. It was Lucian.

“Rowan,” he gasped, his voice strained and filled with pain. “My stomach... it’s killing me.”

I mumbled a barely coherent response, but my exhaustion quickly overpowered my concern, pulling me back into a restless sleep. In the haze of dreams, I thought I heard him calling my name again, but it sounded far away, as if it were lost in the depths of a foggy forest. I pushed it aside, choosing the comfort of sleep over his distant pleas.

When I finally awoke to the creaking of the door, I found Lucian standing over me, pain etched into his features, his expression a mix of hurt and frustration.

“Rowan, why don’t you care anymore? You used to worry when I was in pain. You would make remedies and bring me potions,” he accused, disbelief ringing in his voice.

I remembered that version of myself clearly. There had been a time when Lucian had a similar stomachache, and I’d raced through pouring rain to deliver a special herbal remedy to him at the packhouse. I had shown up soaked and disheveled, only to be met with laughter from his packmates while Lucian stood by, unmoved and indifferent.

Afterward, he’d said to me, “Don’t come to the packhouse like that again, Rowan. It’s embarrassing.”

“Are you feeling any better now?” I asked, still half-asleep and rubbing my eyes. “We might be out of herbs, though. Maybe you should grab some from the healer’s hut.”

His jaw tightened, frustration flaring in his eyes. He grabbed my arm roughly, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “How long are you going to hold this grudge against Ivy, huh? I told you, there’s nothing between us!”

“Oh, is that right?” I replied, my calm demeanor in stark contrast to his rising anger.

With a frustrated snarl, Lucian stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. For the first time in what felt like ages, I savored the silence that followed.

---

As the quiet enveloped me, I reflected on the chaos that had become our lives. Lucian had always been the center of my universe, but now it felt like I was orbiting a distant star, struggling to stay grounded. I had given so much of myself to him, only to feel like a ghost in my own home.

I forced myself to focus on the pack documents again, trying to distract myself from the ache in my chest. The words blurred together as I read, each line reminding me of the responsibilities I had taken on, yet Lucian’s shadow loomed large over my thoughts.

He was supposed to be my partner, my mate, but instead, he felt more like a stranger who took me for granted. My heart tightened at the thought of all those moments I had spent trying to prove my worth to him—days and nights filled with worry and care that seemed to go unnoticed.

After what felt like hours, I put the documents aside, realizing I couldn’t force myself to engage with them any longer. My mind drifted back to earlier conversations, each one a reminder of the growing distance between us.

I recalled the first time I felt that distance—when he had started spending so much time with Ivy. I had tried to be supportive, to understand, but each hour he was away felt like a dagger to my heart. I had been nothing but patient, but patience was wearing thin.

Couldn’t he see how hard I was trying? I remembered the countless nights I lay awake, worrying about him, and how now it seemed like those concerns were unreciprocated.

Just as I began to spiral deeper into my thoughts, my phone buzzed again. It was Lucian once more. I hesitated, unsure if I was ready for another round of accusations.

“Rowan,” he said, his voice softer this time but still laced with pain, “I... I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier.”

I felt a mixture of relief and frustration. It was good that he was reaching out, but why did it always feel like we were running in circles?

“Lucian, I’m not angry,” I said, my tone steady but firm.

“I’m trying to figure this out, Rowan, tell me what’s wrong.” he replied, sounding genuinely conflicted.

I said nothing to him.

There was a long pause before he finally said, “Fine, I’ll leave you alone for now. Just... think about what I said. Please.”

As I hung up, I felt a mix of sadness and liberation wash over me.