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Rejected by Alpha Mate Novel Cover

Rejected by Alpha Mate

The full moon bathed the Pacific Northwest forest in an ethereal glow, illuminating the pine trees that stretched toward the night sky like silent sentinels. I ran with wild abandon, my paws barely touching the forest floor as I kept pace with the Moonstone Pack. For these precious moments, I could forget I was Luna Sophia Mitchell, the late-bloomer who had fought for her place. Here, in wolf form, I was simply Lyra—strong, free, and one with the night. *Isn't this perfect?* I sent the thought through our mind-link to Alexander, whose massive black wolf form led the pack ahead of me. His wolf, Titan, glanced back, amber eyes gleaming with affection. *Perfect because you're here, Luna.* The warmth of his response flooded through me, and I pushed myself faster, delighting in the way the cool night air rushed through my silver-gray fur. These moments made everything worth it—the sidelong glances from pack members who still whispered about my late-bloomer status, the cold formality of Eleonora's "guidance" on being a proper Luna, the crushing responsibilities of leading a pack that had never fully accepted me. But I had Alexander. For three years, he had been my rock, my salvation, my everything.
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Chapter 3

The garden had always been my sanctuary. Now, as I collapsed onto the stone bench beneath the ancient oak, it felt more like a prison yard—the only place I could hide my weakness from judging eyes. Three rituals. Three times Victoria had fed on my blood, my strength, my very essence. Each time, I felt Lyra grow fainter within me, our bond stretching thinner like gossamer threads in a storm.

I pressed my palm against the cool stone, trying to ground myself as the world tilted and spun around me. Black spots danced across my vision, and I fought the urge to vomit. The wound on my neck throbbed beneath the silk scarf I'd carefully arranged to hide it.

"Pathetic."

The cold voice sliced through my fog of pain. I didn't need to look up to recognize Eleonora Sterling's precise, clipped tone. Alexander's mother stood before me, her silver-streaked hair pulled into an immaculate chignon, her eyes chips of blue ice.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, attempting to stand. My legs betrayed me, buckling beneath my weight.

Eleonora's lip curled in disgust. "A Luna does not show weakness. Especially not where others can see."

I forced myself upright, swaying slightly. "The ritual was... difficult this time."

"Difficult?" She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "What is difficult is watching my son's chosen mate behave like a wounded deer instead of the Alpha female she claims to be."

Her words stung worse than Victoria's fangs. I straightened my shoulders, ignoring the way my vision blurred at the edges.

"Victoria needed—"

"What Victoria needs is irrelevant," Eleonora cut me off. "What matters is the pack. Your duty is to the Moonstone Pack, not to your comfort or your pride." She stepped closer, her perfume—roses and something sharper, like steel—overwhelming my senses. "Remember your place, Sophia. Remember what you owe us."

Something in her tone made Lyra stir uneasily within me. *What we owe them?* my wolf questioned. *We owe them nothing.*

But before I could parse the strange comment, Eleonora turned on her heel and walked away, leaving me alone with my weakness and a growing sense that there was something I was missing—something important buried beneath the surface of her cold disdain.

---

The mountain air bit through my ceremonial cloak as I stood beside Alexander on the summit platform. Below us, the valley stretched out in a blanket of pristine white, the headquarters of five allied packs arranged in a circle for the annual alliance summit. Normally, I would have reveled in the breathtaking view, but today, I could barely focus on anything but staying upright.

Six rituals now. Six times Victoria had fed on me, and each time, I'd grown weaker. Alexander had barely spoken ten words to me in the past week, too busy attending to Victoria's "recovery."

"Alphas and Lunas of the Allied Territories," the ceremony master called out, his voice carrying across the mountain plateau. "We gather under the winter moon to renew our bonds and strengthen our alliance."

I felt Alexander shift beside me, his body tense. When I glanced at him, his expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes made my heart stutter with dread.

"Before we begin," Alexander's voice rang out, strong and clear, "there must be a cleansing."

Murmurs rippled through the assembled pack leaders. This wasn't part of the traditional ceremony.

Before I could react, Alexander's hands were at my throat, unfastening the silver Luna pendant that marked my status. The symbol I'd worn with pride for three years.

"Alexander?" I whispered, confusion and horror washing over me in equal measure.

He didn't meet my eyes as he pocketed the pendant. "The cleansing requires it," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

I stood there, exposed and humiliated, as Alexander stepped away from me—and toward Victoria, who had emerged from the crowd in a flowing white gown that matched the snow around us. From his pocket, he produced two identical silver bands, engraved with ancient symbols. With deliberate slowness, he slipped one onto Victoria's wrist, then secured the matching one on his own.

The message was unmistakable to everyone present. These weren't just ceremonial bands—they were symbols of a renewed bond between Alpha and his chosen companion. Not his Luna.

A hush fell over the gathering. I felt dozens of eyes on me, pitying, curious, judging. My cheeks burned despite the frigid air, and Lyra howled in anguish within me.

"Publicly shaming your Luna is dishonorable," a deep voice murmured near my ear.

I turned to find Alpha Marcus Thorne of the Riverstone Pack standing beside me, his weathered face set in lines of disapproval as he watched Alexander and Victoria.

"I—" My voice failed me. What could I possibly say?

"Remember this moment, Luna Sophia," Marcus said quietly. "Remember who stood with you, and who did not."

As I stood there, stripped of my symbol of status, watching my mate display his allegiance to another woman, I felt something crystallize within me—a small, hard seed of realization.

This was no longer about healing Victoria. This was about replacing me.

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