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Rejected by My Fated Alpha Novel Cover

Rejected by My Fated Alpha

In a world governed by lunar laws and pack hierarchies, a young werewolf faces the ultimate betrayal when her fated mate, the powerful future Alpha, publicly rejects her. Forced to navigate the crushing pain of a broken bond, she must find the strength to redefine her destiny. Amidst political intrigue and shifting alliances, she discovers that being cast out might lead to a power she never imagined, challenging everything she knew about love.
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Chapter 3

"Lilliana, let me make one thing clear—Princess Adelina’s condition is delicate. If you so much as raise your voice near her, you’ll have to answer to me."

Damien’s voice was sharp, his Alpha tone cutting through the air like a command. His broad shoulders were tense, his towering frame blocking the doorway as if he expected me to barge in and harm her. It was almost laughable. Just a week ago, this same man had been on one knee, vowing to mark me as his Luna. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

"Alpha Damien," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the frustration churning inside me. But I couldn’t afford to lose my composure—not now, not when I was so close to leaving. "You were the one who insisted I personally oversee Princess Adelina’s care. How am I supposed to do that if you won’t even let me near her?"

Damien’s expression faltered for a moment, and he shook his head, relenting. "Fine. We’ll go together."

I knew what he was doing. He wanted a witness—someone to ensure I wouldn’t cause a scene or upset Adelina. Five years as his mate, and he still saw me as unpredictable, as someone who needed to be controlled.

"Lead the way," I said, stepping forward, burying my thoughts deep where they couldn’t surface.

Damien moved quickly to walk ahead of me, his presence commanding as always. "I’ll show you the way. You don’t know which room she’s in."

If he hadn’t been so hostile moments ago, I might’ve believed he was simply concerned I’d get lost. But now, it was just another layer of his charade.

"Princess Adelina, look who’s here," Damien announced as we entered the room.

Adelina was reclined against the bed, her delicate frame looking even more fragile than usual. Her clothes seemed to swallow her whole, and her face was as pale as the moonlight filtering through the window. She looked every bit the Lycan Princess—ethereal, untouchable.

"Lilliana," she said softly, her voice wavering. "I’m so sorry. It’s because of me that you and Alpha Damien couldn’t complete the marking ceremony. If you need to blame someone, blame me. My weak constitution keeps causing trouble for everyone."

She clutched her chest, breaking into a coughing fit. The healer in the room rushed to her side, his voice firm. "The Princess mustn’t get worked up. Please, keep the conversation calm."

Damien’s anger flared, his Alpha aura pressing down on the room. "Didn’t I warn you, Lilliana? Princess Adelina’s health is fragile. Why do you insist on provoking her? Can’t you just let this go? You’re a healer, for Moon’s sake. Shouldn’t you know better?"

His voice drew a crowd, pack members gathering at the doorway, their gazes shifting between us. Whispers filled the air, some accusing, some sympathetic, but all of them felt like knives.

Emberlynn stepped forward, her Gamma presence radiating authority. "Enough," she said, her voice firm. "Healers are pack members too. And let’s not forget—Lilliana was Alpha Damien’s chosen mate. Now he’s here, defending another woman against her? What kind of Alpha does that?"

The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in. Damien’s expression darkened, but he said nothing. The crowd’s murmurs shifted, some now casting disdainful looks his way.

"Say something, Alpha Damien," I said, my voice quiet but steady. "Or are you too busy protecting someone who doesn’t need it?"

"I’m sorry, Lilliana," Adelina whispered, her voice trembling. "This is all my fault."

I looked at her, then at Damien, and for the first time, I felt nothing but exhaustion. The bond between us—once so strong—felt like a frayed thread, ready to snap at any moment. And maybe, just maybe, that was for the best.

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