Rejected by Alpha, Chosen by Prince

The sound of chainsaws at dawn shattered what little sleep I'd managed to find.

I bolted upright in my bed, my wolf instantly alert and snarling. That mechanical roar was coming from the eastern grove—from my father's sacred oak tree. The tree he'd planted with his own hands the day I was born, the tree that had grown strong and tall like the bond between us, the tree that held fifteen years of whispered prayers and desperate hopes.

"No." The word tore from my throat as I threw on clothes and raced barefoot across the pack grounds.

Through the morning mist, I could see them—three warriors with chainsaws, their blades biting into the ancient bark. Ace stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the destruction with the same detached interest he'd shown when discussing my future as his "secondary mate."

"Stop!" I screamed, launching myself between the warriors and my father's tree. "You can't do this!"

The nearest warrior—Jake Morrison, who'd eaten at my family's table countless times—hesitated, his chainsaw sputtering to silence. The others followed suit, uncertainty flickering across their faces.

"This is sacred ground," I panted, pressing my back against the scarred trunk. My hands found the deep grooves where my father had carved our family initials, where I'd added my own small mark years later. "This tree is part of our pack's history. Part of my father's legacy."

Ace stepped forward, his Alpha authority radiating outward like heat from a forge. "Move away from the tree, Sadie."

"No." I spread my arms wider, as if I could shield the entire massive oak with my body. "I won't let you destroy this. Not this."

His green eyes hardened. "I'm not asking. I'm ordering. As your Alpha, I command you to step aside."

The weight of his power pressed against me, trying to force compliance. My wolf whimpered but held firm, drawing strength from the ancient wood at my back. "My father planted this tree. He blessed this ground with his own blood when he defended our territory. You have no right—"

"I have every right!" Ace's composure cracked, revealing the ugly anger beneath. "I am the Alpha of this pack. This is my territory, my decision. Your father is dead, Sadie. Dead and buried and irrelevant."

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "He saved your life. Without his sacrifice, you'd be nothing but bones in a rogue's den."

"And look where his heroics got him." Ace's voice dropped to a cruel whisper. "Six feet under while stronger wolves live on. That's the difference between us, Sadie. I don't die for sentiment."

The words hit like physical blows. Around us, the warriors shifted uncomfortably, their chainsaws hanging silent in their hands.

"Jake," Ace barked. "Resume cutting. Now."

Jake Morrison met my desperate gaze, conflict written across his weathered features. "Alpha, maybe we could—"

"Did I stutter?" Ace's Alpha command slammed into the warrior like a sledgehammer. "Cut down that tree. All of you. And if anyone gets in your way, restrain them."

The chainsaws roared back to life. I pressed harder against the bark, feeling the vibrations of the blades as they bit deeper into my father's legacy.

"Please," I whispered, but my voice was lost in the mechanical screaming.

Then Jake's massive hand closed around my arm. "I'm sorry, Miss Sadie," he said, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "Alpha's orders."

They pulled me away despite my struggles, holding me fast while the ancient oak groaned and swayed. The sound it made as it fell was like the earth itself crying out in pain—a deep, resonant crack that seemed to echo in my bones.

When the dust settled, fifteen years of growth lay scattered in broken pieces across the sacred grove. The stump remained, raw and bleeding sap like an open wound in the earth.

Ace surveyed the destruction with satisfaction. "Much better. Jake, have your crew clear the debris. I want this area ready for foundation work by next week."

"You monster," I breathed, staring at the devastation. "You absolute monster."

He turned to me with a cold smile. "I'm a realist, Sadie. Something your father never learned to be."

As the warriors began gathering the fallen branches, I heard soft footsteps behind me. Maxine approached hesitantly, her pregnant belly making her movements careful and deliberate. She looked even more fragile in the morning light, her auburn hair dull and her green eyes haunted.

"Sadie," she said quietly, glancing nervously toward Ace. "I... I wanted to say I'm sorry. About the tree."

I whirled on her, my grief transforming into rage. "Sorry? You're sorry? This is your fault! If you hadn't—"

"Not all bonds are chosen freely," Maxine interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. She touched her belly protectively, her gaze darting between me and Ace. "Sometimes... sometimes we become what others need us to be. Whether we want to or not."

The strange phrasing made me pause. There was something in her eyes—a desperate kind of warning, as if she was trying to tell me something important but couldn't find the words.

"What do you mean?" I asked, but she was already backing away.

"I have to go," she murmured. "Dylan needs his breakfast."

She hurried toward the pack house, leaving me alone with the wreckage of my father's memory and a growing certainty that there was far more to Maxine Berry's story than anyone knew.