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Rejected by My Fated Alpha Novel Cover

Rejected by My Fated Alpha

On our fifth anniversary as mates, Andy, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, promised me a special surprise. I waited alone by the lake for hours as the rain poured down, my Luna’s dress soaked through, but he never showed. The bond between us felt heavy with his absence, the silence in my mind louder than the storm. Then I saw it—a post on Charlotte’s social media, tagged at a nearby hotel. Charlotte, a rogue werewolf and Andy’s childhood friend, had captioned it: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." The photo showed them kissing under dim lighting, their hands intertwined on a bed strewn with rose petals. Andy’s mating mark, usually prominent on his neck, was absent. My stomach churned, the scent of betrayal sharp in the air. I quickly sent her a message: "May you two grow old together, blessed with a whole team of little heirs." The sarcasm in my words did little to mask the ache in my chest. The photo confirmed what I had suspected for months—Andy had strayed from our bond. When Andy finally called, his voice was calm, almost dismissive.
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Chapter 1

On our fifth anniversary as mates, Andy, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, promised me a special surprise. I waited alone by the lake for hours as the rain poured down, my Luna’s dress soaked through, but he never showed. The bond between us felt heavy with his absence, the silence in my mind louder than the storm.

Then I saw it—a post on Charlotte’s social media, tagged at a nearby hotel. Charlotte, a rogue werewolf and Andy’s childhood friend, had captioned it: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." The photo showed them kissing under dim lighting, their hands intertwined on a bed strewn with rose petals. Andy’s mating mark, usually prominent on his neck, was absent. My stomach churned, the scent of betrayal sharp in the air.

I quickly sent her a message: "May you two grow old together, blessed with a whole team of little heirs." The sarcasm in my words did little to mask the ache in my chest. The photo confirmed what I had suspected for months—Andy had strayed from our bond.

When Andy finally called, his voice was calm, almost dismissive. "Annabelle, what’s this all about? Charlotte is just an old friend, like a sister. You’re misreading the situation."

"And let’s not forget, it’s pouring rain, and she didn’t have an umbrella. I happened to run into her. With her heart condition, what if she got sick from the rain? I only brought her to the hotel to wait it out!" His excuses poured out, each one more hollow than the last. Through the phone, I could hear Charlotte’s faint breathing, soft and delicate.

Unmoved, I cut him off. "Andy, I’m still at the lake." My voice was steady, though my body trembled with cold and exhaustion. I had been waiting for nearly four hours, drenched and shivering, with no shelter or transport nearby.

He hesitated, then said, "Stay there. I’ll come get you right away."

But another hour passed, the rain unrelenting, and Andy never came. When the storm finally ceased, I trudged away from the lake, my body heavy with illness and disgust. The bond between us felt like a frayed thread, ready to snap.

At home, I sought warmth in a hot bath, but my mind couldn’t escape the image of Andy and Charlotte. I opened my phone again and saw his comment under her post: "I will always protect my little princess." The words stung more than the cold.

When I clicked on Charlotte’s profile, I was met with a blank line—I had been blocked. My headache worsened, and I took a few healing herbs, hoping sleep would bring relief.

It didn’t last long. Andy’s voice jolted me awake as he ripped off the comforter, his Alpha tone sharp and commanding. "Didn’t I tell you to wait for me at the lake? I’ve been running back and forth all night. Get up and make me something to eat!"

"And another thing, make some ginger tea for Charlotte. She got wet, and I’ll take it over to her later."

My headache spiked, and my patience shattered. "Was Charlotte not enough for you? Why else would you have the energy to shout at me here?"

He stood abruptly, his towering frame looming over me, his dark eyes blazing. "Annabelle, haven’t you had enough? I’ve told you over and over—I was late because of traffic."

"You just have to stir things up on our anniversary, don’t you? I even got you a gift, and this is how you thank me—sulking?" He tossed a small box at me, the force of it hitting my forehead and bringing tears to my eyes.

He leaned in to inspect the damage, but the scent of Charlotte’s perfume—vanilla and rose—was overwhelming. The memory of them together flashed in my mind, and I pushed him away, nausea rising in my throat.

The box had spilled open, revealing a bracelet I had admired for months. But I remembered seeing it on Charlotte’s wrist in her post, clasped around her delicate hand as she intertwined her fingers with Andy’s.

The cheap sparkle of the bracelet told me everything I needed to know. In this battle for his affection, Charlotte had won—Andy’s loyalty and a costly trinket. All I had were his lies.

"It’s almost 2 AM now," I said, meeting his gaze without flinching.

"Andy, our fifth anniversary is over, and so is our bond."

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