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Pregnant And Rejected: The Alpha's Cruel Choice Novel Cover

Pregnant And Rejected: The Alpha's Cruel Choice

I gave up a prestigious scholarship to Zurich to become the architect of the Obsidian Pack, believing Alpha Emilio was my Fated Mate. I spent four years building his walls, his training grounds, and his legacy, waiting for the Mark that never came. On the night I planned to tell him I was pregnant with his heir, he stood on the dais and publicly gave my custom-designed Luna bracelet to his mistress's son. Desperate and heartbroken, I stepped forward to reveal the truth about our baby. Emilio didn't offer comfort. Instead, he used the Alpha Command. "Sit down, Elana." The force of his voice was a physical blow. It threw me off the stage and slammed me onto the stone floor. The impact didn't just break my body; it severed the life of our unborn pup. As I lay bleeding out, Emilio didn't look at me with regret. He shielded his mistress, Hayden, from the sight of my pain. "Get her out of here," he told the guards coldly. "If she dies as a Rogue in the woods, it’s just nature." He thought he was discarding a broken tool. He thought I would die in the river. He didn't know that I would wash up on the shores of the Silver Alps. He didn't know that their Alpha, the most powerful wolf in Europe, had been admiring my designs—and me—from afar for years. Three months later, I returned to the Obsidian Pack. I didn't come back to build his walls. I came back to tear them down.
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Chapter 6

Elana POV

The air inside the cabin grew viscous, heavy with the scent of pine sap and the metallic tang of impending violence.

"They're close," Silas whispered, racking the slide of his shotgun with a sharp *clack*. "I can smell the rot on them. Rogues."

Rogues. Wolves without a pack, stripped of their humanity by isolation and madness. They were dangerous, unpredictable beasts. But these weren't random wanderers. They moved with purpose. They were hitmen.

"Ten minutes," I repeated, my voice calm despite the fire racing through my veins.

I didn't have bricks or mortar, but I knew structure. I knew leverage.

I grabbed the heavy fishing line from Silas's tackle box. With trembling hands, I tied it across the bottom of the doorframe, tight and low. A simple tripwire.

"Mara," I commanded, pointing to the cast-iron chandelier hanging above the entrance. It was held by a frayed rope tied to a cleat on the wall. "When I say 'now,' you cut that rope."

She nodded, her eyes wide with fear, her knuckles white as she gripped a hunting knife.

I smashed the lantern oil jar on the floorboards just past the tripwire. The liquid pooled, slick and pungent.

*Thump. Thump.*

Heavy paws hit the porch. The wood groaned under the unnatural weight.

"Open up!" a voice snarled from outside. It sounded like wet gravel grinding together. "We know the bitch is in there."

Silas aimed his gun at the door, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"Now!" I screamed.

The door burst open in a shower of splinters. A massive brown wolf lunged inside, jaws snapping.

He hit the fishing line. His momentum betrayed him. His front paws tangled, and he skidded forward on the oil-slicked floor, crashing chest-first into the hardwood.

"Mara!" I yelled.

*Snap.*

The heavy iron chandelier dropped like a guillotine. It smashed into the Rogue's spine with a sickening crunch. He howled, a sound of pure agony, before going limp.

One down. Three to go.

Silas fired. *Boom.*

The second wolf, a grey mangy thing, took the buckshot to the shoulder and yelped, retreating into the night.

But the third one... he was huge. Black fur, scarred muzzle. He didn't charge blindly. He leapt over his fallen comrade, dodging Silas's second shot with terrifying agility.

He landed in front of me.

He shifted. Bones cracked and reformed with wet, popping sounds until a naked man stood there, his eyes yellow and soulless.

"Clever girl," he sneered, wiping blood from his lip. "But Hayden paid extra for your head."

The name hit me harder than a fist. *Hayden.*

"Why?" I gasped, backing up against the fireplace. "I'm already dead to the pack."

"She wants to make sure," the Rogue grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "Can't have the rightful Luna crawling back, can we? She wants the bloodline ended. Permanently."

Rage.

It wasn't a spark; it was a volcanic eruption.

My vision went white. Not from fainting, but from power. A cold, silver light flooded my veins, freezing the pain in my womb, freezing the fear in my heart.

My inner wolf didn't just growl. She roared. It sounded like a glacier cracking deep beneath the earth.

*You will not touch us.*

The Rogue stepped forward, reaching for my throat.

I didn't think. I reacted.

I grabbed the fire poker from the hearth. It should have been heavy, unwieldy for a recovering Beta. But in my hand, it felt light as a feather.

I swung.

The metal struck the Rogue's temple with the force of a falling beam. He crumbled instantly.

The last Rogue, the grey one Silas had shot, tried to lunge at Mara.

"NO!" I screamed.

The air in the cabin shifted. It became dense, suffocating, charged with ozone.

"SUBMIT."

The voice wasn't mine. It was deeper, ancient. It vibrated the very logs of the cabin.

The grey wolf froze mid-air. He whined, his tail tucking between his legs, and collapsed to his belly, shivering uncontrollably.

Silas lowered his gun, staring at me in disbelief. Mara was pressed against the wall, her mouth open.

I stood there, chest heaving. I felt taller. Stronger.

"Elana?" Silas whispered. "Your eyes... they're glowing silver."

My knees gave out. The power vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving me hollowed out. I slumped to the floor, darkness rushing in to claim me again.

But this time, I wasn't afraid of the dark. The White Wolf was awake. And she was angry.

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