Rejected by My Alpha

In the corner next to Alpha Waylon’s desk was a makeshift den for a wolf pup, lined with soft pelts and scattered with various chew toys. Thalia’s gaze lingered on the scene, her mind easily conjuring images of him and that Delta, Emmie, playing with the pup in this space. When he noticed her gaze, Waylon quickly explained, "The pup belongs to one of the pack members. I’m just looking after it for a while."

Thalia found it almost laughable. Who in the pack would dare ask their Alpha to care for a pup? But she chose not to voice her thoughts. Eager to shift the conversation, Waylon asked why she had come to see him. Just as she was about to speak, there was a sharp knock on the door, and Emmie rushed in, her eyes wide with worry.

"Alpha Waylon," she said breathlessly, "Whiskers just got sick. I don’t know what to do."

Waylon’s attention snapped to her instantly. "What happened?" he asked, his voice softening in a way Thalia hadn’t heard in years.

"He just started whining and then—" Emmie’s voice trembled as she cradled the small wolf pup in her arms. Waylon stepped forward, gently taking the pup from her, his hands moving with a tenderness that made Thalia’s chest tighten. She watched as he soothed the pup, a few stray hairs clinging to his sleeve and collar, unnoticed by him.

"We should take him to the pack healer," Waylon decided, cradling the pup as if it were his own.

The scene sent a sharp pang through Thalia’s heart. It reminded her of the time she had fallen ill, her body burning with fever. When she had asked him to take her to the healer, he had dismissed her with a curt, "Ask one of the Deltas." Now, it was clear where she stood—lower than Emmie, and even lower than a pup.

Thalia had barely been in the room for three minutes before Waylon was ready to leave. This time, she couldn’t hold back. Her voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding. "Alpha Waylon."

He paused, turning to her with a raised brow, the pup still nestled in his arms. "Yes, Luna Thalia?"

The formal title felt like a slap, a reminder of the distance between them. Thalia straightened her shoulders, her gaze steady despite the storm raging inside her. "We need to talk. Now."

Waylon’s expression shifted, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "Can it wait? Whiskers needs—"

"No," Thalia interrupted, her voice firm. "It can’t wait."

For a moment, the room was heavy with tension, the unspoken weight of their strained bond pressing down on them both. Waylon hesitated, glancing at Emmie, who stood silently by the door, her eyes darting between them. Finally, he sighed and handed the pup back to Emmie. "Take him to the healer. I’ll join you shortly."

Emmie nodded, casting a fleeting, almost apologetic look at Thalia before slipping out of the room. Once the door clicked shut, Waylon turned back to Thalia, his arms crossed. "What is it?"

Thalia met his gaze, her voice cold and measured. "We need to discuss our bond, Alpha Waylon. It’s time we put an end to this farce."

The words hung in the air, a challenge neither of them could ignore.