Alpha's Rejected Luna-Betrayed by the Mate Who Chose Power Over Love

The pack was celebrating 10 years of being under Alpha Ronan's rule tonight. Tonight wasn’t just a celebration—it was a statement. Under Alpha Ronan, the pack was stronger than ever, feared by enemies and respected by allies.

The werewolf clan called him god, and despite being young, Ronan won battles that others wouldn’t even start, leading from the front with his wolf tearing through anyone who challenged him.

For this celebration that will be held by only the council members, he agreed we were going as mates. He stood by the door, fixing his jacket. His crest shone under the moonlight. I held my dress up. “Does it look okay?” I asked, heart racing.

He glanced at me. “It’s fine,” he said, not smiling, not frowning.

“It matches your outfit,” I tried again, stepping closer.

“It’s fine,” he repeated, looking past me.

“We’re going together, right?” I asked, waiting for a no.

“Yes.” That’s all he said. I looked at him, wondering how I loved a person like him.

A second passed. Then his body stiffened. His head turned slightly, his nose twitching.

“What?” I asked, feeling my wolf stir.

“Elara,” he muttered. “She’s calling.”

I blinked. “Now?”

“She needs me.” His tone was final. He didn’t wait for me to respond. He shifted on the spot, fur rippling, claws hitting the floor before he vanished through the open door.

I stood there, my hands shaking. “I’ll just… wait, then,” I whispered, but he was gone.

I smiled bitterly, anger wasn't what I felt. Atleast, not anymore.

I had to be at the meeting. I grabbed my shawl and stepped outside. My wolf whimpered, her leg still healing, but I kept walking.

“She’s just a Luna by name” I heard the murmur, reminding me that I was already In the pack house and the council members were there.

“ She doesn't have anything to do other than following the Alpha.”

“But she is the Luna, nothing much”

“ Elara is an all rounder….. sweet yet fierce not this….”

And the murmurs kept on going. I was not angry, I stopped being angry at Ronan for not choosing me.

I sat down near the edge, scanning the crowd for Ronan. He wasn’t there. My chest tightened, but I stayed put. Elder Lyric stood in the center, his deep voice carrying over the pack.

“Our current allies grow weaker,” he began, his tone steady but grim. “If the Crescent Moon pack hadn’t been prepared in the last battles, we would’ve been crushed.”

Murmurs broke out around me.

“We’ve never lost before,” someone whispered behind me.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t,” another replied sharply.

Elder Lyric raised a hand, silencing the crowd. “Our strength isn’t just in numbers. It’s in how we adapt. We need more than what we have now. New defenses, new strategies.”

“How do we do that?” a younger wolf asked, his voice shaky.

“We expand,” Lyric said firmly. “Allies beyond the packs we know. Wolves, rogues, even other creatures.”

“Rogues?” A growl rippled through the crowd.

“Yes.” Lyric’s eyes swept over us. “Rogues who will fight for survival. The same survival we fight for. Or we face extinction alone.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, but I couldn’t focus. Where was Ronan? Why wasn’t he here? My fists clenched, my wolf restless.

I raised my head when the room went quiet, and my eyes found Ronan. My heart sank. Elara stood beside him, wearing the ceremonial blade I made. It hung at her side like it belonged there.

Ronan’s words from days ago echoed in my head. “It’s for the summit,” he’d said, his voice steady. “A symbol of peace.”

But now, I knew the truth. It wasn’t for the summit. It was for her.

“Elara looks good with it,” someone near me whispered.

My wolf growled, low and deep, clawing to get out. I bit down on it, hard.

Ronan walked past, his gaze brushing over me like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t lied.

“Ronan,” I called, my voice sharp.

He stopped but didn’t turn. “Not now,” he said, his tone clipped.

I stared at his back, my hands shaking. My wolf begged to be unleashed, to rip the blade off her and bury it in the ground. But I stayed rooted, my rage thick and silent.

Not even Elara’s presence would make me lose my cool.