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I Rejected the Alpha Who Killed Me Novel Cover

I Rejected the Alpha Who Killed Me

Five years ago, I tore my inner wolf out of my soul to save Alpha Floyd's life. In return, he treated me like a "Wolfless freak" and made me a slave in my own pack. To please his mistress, he pressed glowing coals laced with silver directly into my palms, burning the hands that had once woven protection spells for him. Then, he watched with cold indifference as I drowned in the freezing Moon Pool, sneering that I was just "being dramatic." It wasn't until the autopsy that he saw the surgical scars on my heart. He finally realized I hadn't lost my wolf—I had given it to him. Consumed by madness and guilt, Floyd sacrificed his own soul in the Silver Dungeon, begging the Goddess to turn back time. He wanted a second chance to worship me. When I opened my eyes, I was eighteen again, back at the Academy. Floyd stood before me, his eyes ancient and filled with tears. "I remember everything," he choked out, reaching for me with a trembling hand. "I came back for you, my Luna." I looked at the man who had murdered me in the name of love. "You think suicide buys forgiveness?" I stepped back, grabbing the hand of the quiet Beta student he used to despise. "I reject you, Floyd Meyers." "And this time, I'm choosing the man who would never let me burn."
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Chapter 2

Elizebeth POV:

I woke up to a boot in my ribs.

I wasn't in the snow. I was in the guest hallway, dumped there like a bag of trash.

"Get up," a guard grunted.

I scrambled up, clutching the folded robe. The master suite door opened.

Floyd walked out. He radiated power, smelling of rain and ozone—a scent that used to be my home. Now, it just made my stomach turn.

Jaylah followed, wrapped in silk.

I held out the robe, head bowed, exposing the raw skin around the suppression ring.

Jaylah snatched the fabric. She inspected it, her manicured nails digging into the velvet.

"It smells," she sniffed. "Like Omega. And blood."

"I can clean it," I whispered.

"Don't speak," Floyd snapped. He looked at Jaylah, his expression softening in a way that gutted me. "We'll buy a new one in the Holy City. Silk. Only the best."

"But what about this?" Jaylah pointed to the corner of the balcony.

Lying on a patio chair was a gray scarf.

My breath hitched.

It was gray wool, woven with strands of my own wolf fur—shed from my first shift, years before the sacrifice. A Mate Gift. I gave it to him when we were teenagers.

"That old rag?" Floyd glanced at it. "Trash it."

"No," the word slipped out.

Floyd turned, eyes narrowing. Gold flashed in his irises. "You dare countermand me?"

"It... it has value," I stammered. "Please, Alpha."

Jaylah laughed. "Value? It looks like something she pulled out of a dumpster." She picked it up with two fingers.

"Get rid of it," Floyd ordered the guard.

"Floyd, please!" I stepped forward, reaching out.

He caught my wrist. His grip was iron. A jolt of electricity—the Mate spark—arced between us. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

Then the wall slammed back down. He shoved me.

"Do not touch me, Wolfless," he spat. "You disgust me."

He grabbed the scarf from Jaylah and tossed it over the balcony railing.

I watched it fall. It landed in the mud of the training grounds. A heavy patrol truck rumbled around the corner. I watched, helpless, as the massive tires rolled directly over it, grinding the wool and my fur into the muck.

Something inside me didn't just break. It died.

I tried to reach out through the Mind-Link, one last desperate attempt.

Floyd... please see me.

Static. A wall of gray noise. He had blocked me out.

"Go," Floyd commanded. "Before I expedite your rejection."

I turned and walked away. No tears. You can't cry over a stranger.

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