
After My Alpha Chose a Wolfless Rogue Over Me
Chapter 2
The silence in the Pack Hall was deafening, a heavy blanket that smothered the murmurs of the gathered wolves. I didn't wait for the shock to wear off. I turned on my heel, the heavy velvet of my ceremonial dress swishing against the stone floor, and walked toward the exit. My head was high, my spine rigid, but inside, my wolf was howling in agony. The severed bond felt like a phantom limb, a gaping hole where his presence used to be.
I made it to the hallway before he caught me.
"Mariana! Stop!"
Preston’s hand clamped around my upper arm, his fingers digging into my flesh with bruising force. He spun me around, his face flushed, his eyes wide with that manic, savior-complex gleam. He expected tears. He expected me to fall to my knees and beg for a scrap of his affection.
Instead, I just looked at his hand on my arm, then up at his face. My expression was blank.
"You’re making a scene," he hissed, leaning in close so the lingering pack members couldn't hear. "Where do you think you're going? You have nowhere. You are nothing without this pack."
"I am leaving," I stated simply. "You rejected me, Preston. I am no longer Luna. I am no longer yours."
He let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Leaving? To go where? To die in the woods like a rogue? No, I won't allow it. I’m not cruel, Mariana. I save people. I don't cast them out."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to that sickeningly sweet tone he used when he wanted to control me. "I have a solution. You can stay. You can move into the guest quarters in the east wing. Josie... she’s young. She doesn't know our ways. She needs guidance. Who better to teach her how to be a Luna than you? You can be her lady-in-waiting. An Omega, yes, but a protected one."
My blood ran cold. He wanted me to serve the woman he replaced me with. He wanted to keep his broken toy on the shelf, dusting it off only when he needed to feel superior.
"You want me to be a servant to a wolfless rogue?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.
"I want you to be grateful!" Preston snapped, his patience fraying. "I pulled you from the fire! I gave you a life! You owe me everything! Now, get back in there and show some respect to your new Luna."
He yanked my arm again, hard enough to make me stumble.
That was it. The years of swallowing my pride, of dimming my light, of pretending to be weak so he could feel strong—it all evaporated in a surge of pure, molten rage. My inner wolf, silent for so long, roared to the surface. It wasn't the whimper of a broken pup. It was the thunder of an Alpha.
I didn't think. I didn't plan. I just let the power flood my veins.
"**Let go!**"
The Command ripped out of my throat, layered with a dominance that shook the very foundation of the hallway. It wasn't a request. It was an Alpha order, fueled by royal blood he didn't know I possessed.
Preston’s eyes went wide, his pupils dilating in shock. His hand flew off my arm as if he’d been burned. He stumbled back a step, actually tripping over his own feet, driven back by the sheer force of my voice.
The warriors standing guard at the end of the hall froze, their jaws dropping. They stared at me, then at their Alpha, who was looking at me with a mixture of confusion and terror.
I didn't wait for him to recover. I turned and sprinted for the stairs.
I had ten minutes. Maybe less.
I tore into our—no, *his*—bedroom. I didn't take the clothes he bought me. I didn't take the jewelry. I grabbed a sturdy canvas backpack from the closet and shoved in a change of tactical gear, a first-aid kit, and a hunting knife.
My hand hovered over the jewelry box on the vanity. I opened it and pulled out the only thing that mattered: a simple silver pendant shaped like a howling wolf. My father gave it to me on my tenth birthday. It was the only piece of the Moonstone Pack that Preston hadn't touched, hadn't tainted.
I clasped it around my neck, the cool metal settling against my skin like a promise.
"Find her!" Preston’s roar echoed from the floor below. "Don't let her leave the grounds!"
I threw the bag over my shoulder and vaulted out the second-story window, landing in a crouch on the soft earth of the garden. My body remembered the training my father had given me, the training Preston thought didn't exist.
I ran.
I didn't run aimlessly. I headed straight for the river—the natural border between the Eclipse territory and the one place Preston was too cowardly to go: the Blood River Pack.
The night air whipped past my face, stinging my eyes. Behind me, I heard the heavy thud of paws hitting the forest floor. They had shifted. They were hunting me.
I pushed harder, my lungs burning. The treeline blurred. I could smell the water now, sharp and metallic.
Just as I broke through the foliage onto the rocky riverbank, three large wolves burst from the brush to my left. Eclipse trackers. They were fast, snarling and snapping at my heels.
I skidded to a halt near the water's edge, turning to face them. I had no weapon in my hand, only the knife in my bag, but I wouldn't die running away.
The lead wolf, a gray male I recognized as one of Preston's enforcers, lunged.
I didn't flinch. I ducked under his jaw, driving my elbow into his ribs with a sickening crunch. He yelped and scrambled back. The second wolf circled, wary now.
Suddenly, the air shifted. A scent hit me—heavy, dark pine and ozone. It was powerful enough to make the hair on my arms stand up.
From the opposite bank, shadows detached themselves from the darkness. Five massive wolves leaped across the narrowest part of the river, landing with heavy thuds on the rocky shore between me and the Eclipse trackers.
The lead wolf was enormous, his fur as black as a starless sky. He didn't look at me. He looked at the Eclipse wolves, a low, vibrating growl emanating from his chest that sounded like an earthquake.
The Eclipse trackers whined, tucking their tails. They knew who this was. They scrambled back into the woods, retreating to safety.
The black wolf shifted. Bones cracked and reshaped, fur retracting into skin. A man stood up, tall and imposing, shaking out his dark hair. He was naked, but he carried himself with a lethal grace that made nudity irrelevant. One of his warriors tossed him a pair of shorts.
He pulled them on and turned to face me. His eyes were the color of amber, sharp and intelligent. He didn't look at me like a damsel in distress. He looked at me like a puzzle he was trying to solve.
"You fight well for a stray," he said, his voice deep and rough like gravel. "But you're on the wrong side of the river."
I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze head-on. "I'm not a stray. And I'm not staying on that side."
He tilted his head, sniffing the air. His eyes narrowed as he caught the fading scent of my old pack, mixed with the fresh tang of rejection.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"I am Mariana Shaw," I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline crashing through my system. "And I would like to negotiate passage through your land, Alpha Mark."
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