Rejected by My Alpha Mate

I woke to the sound of heels clicking on tile.

My body ached. Every breath sent sharp pains through my ribs. Dr. Helena had wrapped my torso tight and given me something for the pain, but it only dulled the edges. The baby was safe. That was all that mattered.

The clicking stopped at my bedside.

"Well, well." Aspen Bradley's voice dripped false sweetness. "Look at you, Luna. All bandaged up like a broken doll."

I opened my eyes. Aspen stood there in a designer dress I'd seen in last month's fashion magazine. Beside her, Juliette Pierce wore one of my cardigans—the soft blue one Marcus had given me for our first anniversary. She'd rolled the sleeves up like it was hers.

They looked like best friends. Arms linked. Matching smiles.

"How are you feeling?" Juliette asked, her tone so sweet it made my teeth hurt.

I didn't answer. My hand moved to my stomach, resting there protectively.

Aspen perched on the edge of my bed without asking. The mattress dipped. Pain shot through my back. "You know, Luna, I've been thinking. You should really be grateful Marcus kept you this long."

"Grateful," I repeated. My voice came out flat.

"Mm-hmm." Aspen examined her nails. "I mean, what do you actually offer an Alpha? You're weak. You have no pack connections. No family anyone's ever heard of. You look like an omega pretending to be a Luna."

Juliette laughed. "She does, doesn't she? I always wondered why Marcus chose her."

"He didn't choose," Aspen said. "The mate bond did. And we all know how unfair those can be."

Something hot and vicious stirred in my chest. My wolf, who I'd kept buried for three years, lifted her head. Growled.

"Anyway," Juliette said brightly, "I've already redecorated the Alpha suite. It needed a woman's touch. A real woman's touch. Your things are in the omega quarters now. I hope you don't mind."

She smiled. Actually smiled.

The heat in my chest built. Pressure. Like a dam about to break.

"Oh, and I took the liberty of choosing new curtains," Juliette continued. "Those awful blue ones you picked were so dated. I went with cream. Much more elegant."

The medical instruments on the shelves began to rattle.

Aspen frowned. "Is that an earthquake?"

"No." The word came out harder than I intended. Colder.

The pitcher of ice water sat on my bedside table. My fingers closed around the handle. The plastic was cool. Solid.

I looked at Juliette. At her smug smile. At my cardigan on her body. At the satisfaction in her eyes.

Then I threw the entire pitcher in her face.

Water exploded over her. Ice cubes bounced off her chest and clattered to the floor. She shrieked, stumbling backward, mascara running down her cheeks in black rivers.

"You—you bitch!" she sputtered.

I sat up straighter. The pain didn't matter anymore. Something ancient and feral was waking up inside me, stretching after a long sleep. When I spoke, my voice carried an edge I hadn't used in years. An authority that made both women freeze.

"Get out."

Aspen stood quickly. "Luna, you can't—"

"I want a formal mate rejection," I said. Each word was precise. Sharp. "And a divorce. Tell Marcus to draw up the papers."

Juliette wiped water from her face, trying to salvage her dignity. "You think he'll fight for you? He doesn't want you. He never did."

"Good." I met her eyes. "Then the rejection should be easy."

For just a second, something flickered across Aspen's face. Uncertainty. Maybe even fear. But she covered it quickly with a laugh.

"Fine," she said, linking arms with a dripping Juliette. "Throw your tantrum. Sign the papers. Leave quietly. It's what everyone wants anyway."

They left, heels clicking double-time down the hall.

The instruments stopped rattling.

I lay back against the pillows, my heart pounding. My hand found my stomach again. The baby was still there. Still safe.

But everything else was about to change.

---

Eleanor Bradley arrived that evening.

She didn't knock. Just swept into the healing ward like she owned it, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun, her expression carved from ice.

"Luna." She stood at the foot of my bed, hands folded. "We need to talk."

I said nothing.

"My son has been more than generous with you," Eleanor continued. "He gave you a home. A title. A place in this pack. And this is how you repay him? By making scenes? Throwing water at guests?"

"Guests," I repeated softly.

"You should accept your place," Eleanor said. "Sign whatever Marcus offers. Leave quietly before you embarrass this family further."

I kept my hands folded over my belly. Kept my face blank.

"You were always a burden, Luna. Graceless. Low-ranking. Unworthy of the Bradley name." Eleanor's voice was smooth. Practiced. "I tried to tell Marcus from the beginning, but he wouldn't listen. The mate bond blinded him."

Each word was designed to cut. To make me small.

I let her talk. Let every insult wash over me like rain. My expression never changed.

Eleanor mistook my silence for defeat. Satisfaction crept into her eyes. "I'm glad we understand each other. The papers will be ready soon. Sign them. Take whatever pittance Marcus offers. And go."

She left.

I waited until her footsteps faded completely.

Then I closed my eyes and let out a long, slow breath.

---

They moved me to the omega quarters the next day.

The room was tiny. A narrow bed. A single window. Bare walls. It smelled like mildew and old wood. Nothing like the Alpha suite with its soft carpets and morning light.

But Shadow was there. My wolf-dog pressed against my legs, whining softly. I knelt and buried my face in his fur.

"It's okay," I whispered. "We're okay."

That night, I sat on the bed with Shadow's head in my lap. The packhouse was quiet. Everyone asleep.

I reached deep inside myself. Past the mate mark that still burned on my neck. Past the suppressed Lycan aura I'd buried three years ago. Down to a thread I'd sealed shut the day I chose Marcus.

The mind-link to Archer Campbell.

It was cobwebbed. Nearly dead. I'd locked it so tight I wasn't sure it would even open.

But I forced my will through it like a key into a rusted lock. Pushed. Harder. Until something gave.

The link flared to life.

Across hundreds of miles, in the Nighthollow Court, I felt him freeze. Felt his shock ripple back through the connection.

I spoke directly into his mind, my voice barely a whisper.

*Archer. I need you.*

His wolf roared.

And I knew he was already coming.