After My Alpha Slapped Me, I Fled

The tension in the Silver Moon Pack's great hall was suffocating. I could feel every pair of eyes on me as I sat beside Ethan at the long oak table, my fingers nervously tracing the silver pendant that hung around my neck—the symbol of our engagement and upcoming mate ceremony. Three weeks. Just three more weeks until we would be bound forever.

I kept my gaze lowered, focusing on the leather pouch of healing herbs I always carried. The familiar weight of it against my hip had always been a comfort, a reminder of my mother's teachings and my small place of usefulness in the pack. But today, that comfort felt hollow under Vanessa Moore's scrutinizing stare from across the table.

"Alpha Ethan," Vanessa's honeyed voice cut through the discussion about territory boundaries. "I wonder if the future Luna has considered more... modern approaches to pack medicine? Those old-fashioned herbs seem rather primitive compared to what other packs are using."

My cheeks burned as several council members exchanged glances. I opened my mouth to defend the traditional healing methods my mother had taught me, but Ethan's hand on my thigh squeezed—a warning to stay silent.

"The Silver Moon Pack values innovation," he replied smoothly, not bothering to look at me. "I'm sure Olivia will adapt once she's officially Luna."

Vanessa's lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Of course. Though some might question whether someone so... traditional... can truly lead our pack into the future."

The implication hung in the air like poison. I felt my wolf stir within me, unusually agitated. *Defend us*, she urged. For once, I listened.

"These herbs saved your brother when he was gored during the last hunt," I said quietly but firmly. "Traditional doesn't mean ineffective."

The room fell silent. Ethan's fingers dug painfully into my thigh, but I didn't flinch.

Vanessa's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps if you spent less time gathering flowers and more time preparing to be Luna, Alpha Ethan wouldn't look so... distracted during council meetings."

Something in her tone made my blood run cold. The way she looked at Ethan, with such familiarity...

"Vanessa," I started, my voice stronger than I expected, "what exactly are you implying?"

Before she could answer, Ethan abruptly stood, his chair scraping harshly against the stone floor. The movement was so sudden that everyone froze. I looked up at him, expecting him to defend me, to put Vanessa in her place.

Instead, his hand whipped through the air.

The slap echoed like thunder in the silent hall. My head snapped to the side, my cheek burning with the force of the blow. For a moment, time seemed suspended—the shocked gasps of the council members, the triumphant gleam in Vanessa's eyes, the painful throbbing in my face.

But it was the look in Ethan's eyes that truly broke me. Not regret. Not shame. Just cold irritation, as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience.

My wolf howled in anguish within me. *He struck us. Our mate struck us.*

Something shifted inside me then—a crack in the foundation of everything I thought I knew. With trembling fingers, I reached for the silver pendant that had hung around my neck for years. The chain snapped easily as I pulled, the metal suddenly feeling like it was burning my skin.

I placed it on the table with deliberate care, the small clink deafening in the silence.

"I, Olivia Bennett," my voice was steady despite the tears threatening to spill, "reject you, Ethan Crawford, as my mate."

The formal words of rejection fell from my lips like stones, each one sending waves of physical pain through my body. Ethan's face transformed from cold anger to shock, his wolf visibly clawing to the surface as his eyes flashed amber.

"Olivia," he growled, his voice a mixture of command and disbelief. "You can't—"

"I can," I interrupted, standing tall despite the agony already beginning to tear through me. "And I have."

Without another word, I turned my back on him, on the council, on the future I had spent my entire life preparing for. As I walked toward the heavy wooden doors, I felt the first true connection with my wolf I'd ever experienced—a shared resolve burning through our bond.

We would rather face the pain of rejection than live another day without dignity.