The Unwanted Historian: Claimed by a Better Alpha

Ava POV

The pain in my leg pulsed in a dull, throbbing rhythm, keeping time with the merciless pounding in my head. I had bandaged it myself with crushed herbs and gauze, refusing to drag myself to the Pack hospital. I didn't want their pity. And more than that, I didn't want to see him.

But I couldn't hide forever. The Pack Elders had summoned me. They knew about the "incident" during the attack, though I doubted they knew the full extent of Ethan's betrayal.

I limped into the Pack meeting hall. The air was thick with tension, heavy with the scent of judgment. Ethan sat at the head of the table, his expression stony and impassive. Chloe stood beside him, a small, pristine bandage on her forehead, looking smug.

I didn't look at the Elders. I looked straight at Ethan.

"Ava," Elder Thomas began, his voice laced with concern. "We heard you were injured. Are you—"

"I'm fine," I interrupted. My voice sounded strange to my own ears—hollow, stripped of all emotion, like a ghost speaking from a grave.

I walked to the center of the room. The silence was deafening. Every wolf in the room held their breath, sensing the storm before the strike.

"I called for this audience," I said, my eyes locking onto Ethan's, "to correct a mistake."

Ethan frowned, a flicker of annoyance breaking his mask. "What are you doing, Ava? Go home and rest."

"I am home," I said. "But not for long."

I took a deep breath, drawing on the last reserves of my strength. I let my Inner Wolf rise, though she was weeping, curled in a ball of misery. I forced her to stand, dragging her up by the scruff of her neck.

"I, Ava Miller, reject you, Ethan Reed, as my mate."

The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute.

Gasps rippled through the room. Rejection was rare. It was painful. It was final.

Ethan flinched, his body jerking as if struck by an invisible blow. For a second, I saw shock in his eyes. Maybe even a flicker of pain. The bond between us snapped taut, vibrating with the force of my words.

He stood up slowly. His face hardened into a mask of indifference, sealing away whatever regret might have been there. He wouldn't let them see him bleed.

"I, Ethan Reed, accept your rejection."

The snap was audible. A sound like a whip cracking inside my skull. I gasped, clutching my chest as the connection was severed. It felt like a limb had been amputated without anesthesia. The golden thread that had tied me to him for years turned black, withered, and dissolved into ash.

I swayed, but I didn't fall.

Some of the pack members looked at me with sorrow. Maya was in the corner, tears streaming down her face. But Chloe... Chloe was beaming.

She leaned over and kissed Ethan. Right there. In front of the Elders. In front of me. She ran her fingers through his hair, her other hand resting possessively on his chest, branding him.

"Finally," she whispered, but in the silence, it sounded like a shout. She looked at me, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Did you hear that, honey? She's finally gone. Some people just don't know when they aren't wanted."

Ethan didn't push her away. He looked at me over her shoulder, his eyes cold. "You should leave, Ava. You're disrupting the meeting."

He looked at me like I was a stranger. No, worse than a stranger. Like I was an inconvenience.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the necklace. The moonstone pendant that had once been his mother's.

"Here," I said, extending my hand. "This belongs to you. I don't want it."

Ethan glanced at it with disdain. "Keep it. Or throw it away. It means nothing to me."

"Just like your promises," I said softly.

I dropped the necklace on the floor. The stone cracked against the hardwood with a sharp *clack*.

I turned and walked out.

When I got back to my cabin, the numbness started to fade, replaced by a cold, sharp rage. I grabbed a chisel from my desk. On the wall hung a wooden frame Ethan and I had carved together years ago. *Ethan & Ava*, surrounded by laurel leaves.

I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I just started carving.

I gouged out his name. Splinters of wood flew onto the floor. I scraped until the wood was raw and ugly, until the name *Ethan* was nothing but a jagged scar in the timber.

A knock sounded at the door. A young Omega stood there, holding a letter.

"Alpha Ethan sent this," she whispered, looking terrified.

I opened it.

*Clean out your things. I want all traces of you gone from the Pack records by tomorrow. Do not attempt to contact me. - Alpha Reed.*

He was erasing me.

I started packing. My movements were mechanical. Shirt. Fold. Box. Book. Stack. Box. I was a robot. I was a puppet with cut strings.

Through my window, I saw them. Ethan and Chloe were sitting on the porch of the Alpha house. He was changing the bandage on her forehead—that tiny, insignificant scratch. He was so gentle, his large hands moving with a tenderness he had never shown me while I bled out in the ruins.

Chloe touched the necklace she was wearing. It wasn't the crest anymore. It was a new piece, a wolf head carved from expensive Moonstone. It looked just like the one I had just returned, but bigger. Flashier.

My phone buzzed. A message from Chloe.

*Don't get any ideas. He's mine now. An Omega like you never deserved an Alpha's love anyway.*

My thumb hovered over the screen. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to tell her he was a liar and a coward.

*He isn't mine,* I typed back. *And he will never truly be yours. He belongs only to himself.*

I hit send.

Suddenly, the door to my cabin burst open. Chloe stood there, her eyes wide and manic. She grabbed a vase from my table and smashed it on the floor.

"Help!" she screamed, throwing herself onto the shards. "Ethan! She's attacking me!"

Ethan appeared in the doorway seconds later, his chest heaving, likely drawn by the sound of the crash. He saw Chloe on the floor, surrounded by broken glass.

"You dare?" he roared at me, his Alpha aura flaring, filling the small room with suffocating pressure. "Get out! Get out of my pack before I kill you myself!"

I looked at him. I didn't defend myself. I didn't plead. What was the point? He had already made his choice in the fire.

I picked up my bag. I stepped over the broken glass, my boots crunching on the remnants of my life.

I walked out the door, leaving a trail of blood from my unhealed leg that seeped through the gauze, and walked into the darkness of the forest.

My phone buzzed again.

*You really thought he'd pick you? Keep dreaming, reject.*

I looked at the screen one last time. Then, I opened my settings and deleted my account. I pulled out the SIM card and snapped it in half.

The silence of the forest wrapped around me. I was alone. I was empty.

And for the first time in my life, I was free.