Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Hidden King

Elara Thorne's POV: I poured a glass of warm milk, the steam curling in the quiet air of our sitting room. The fire crackled in the hearth, a futile attempt to ward off the chill that had settled deep in my bones. I handed the cup to Cora, who was curled up on the sofa, a thick blanket wrapped around her small frame. “Momma,” she whispered, her pale blue eyes wide and serious. “Is there something wrong with me? Why won’t my wolf wake up?” The question, so simple and so innocent, was a dagger to my heart. It was a poison she’d been fed in whispers and scornful looks her entire life. I sat down and pulled her into my arms, blanket and all, holding her tight against my chest. “There is nothing wrong with you, Cora Blackwood,” I said, my voice fierce. “Absolutely nothing. Your wolf is just a sleepyhead. She’s taking her time, but she will wake up. I promise.” The door to our suite was thrust open without a knock, the heavy oak slamming against the wall. Two she-wolves sauntered in as if they owned the place. Tribecca and Amanda, Faye’s most loyal and vicious lapdogs. Their eyes, full of smug superiority, swept the room before landing on Cora. Tribecca’s lips curled into a sneer. “Well, well. I thought I heard whining. It’s just the placeholder Luna and her… defective daughter.” A cold, hard fury unlike anything I’d felt before surged through me. I stood up, gently moving Cora behind me. My voice was low, each word a chip of ice. “Who gave you permission to enter my rooms? Get out.” Amanda laughed, a short, ugly sound. “A Luna who can’t even keep her Alpha’s attention wants to give us orders? You’re nothing, and you know it.” Cora trembled behind me, her small hands clutching the back of my dress. Tribecca took a step closer, her gaze maliciously fixed on my daughter. “Poor little thing. Are you ever going to shift? What an embarrassment to the Blackwood line.” That was it. That was the line. Lyra, my wolf, was a raging tempest in my mind, screaming for blood. “Stop it,” I said. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was filled with an authority I hadn’t used in years—the innate power of a Luna. “You can say what you want about me. But you will not speak about my daughter.” The two she-wolves actually faltered, taking a half-step back. The unexpected force of my command had startled them. But then they remembered who they served. Amanda’s courage returned. “We’re just speaking the truth. A wolfless child weakens the bloodline. The Alpha should have set you aside and taken Faye as his rightful mate years ago!” A dangerous calm settled over me. Ryker had stripped me of love and companionship, but he hadn’t stripped me of my title. And that title still had power. “According to pack law, Article Seven,” I stated, my voice level and cold, “publicly shaming the Alpha’s direct bloodline is an offense punishable by the lash.” The color drained from their faces. They had grown so used to my passivity, my quiet endurance, that they had forgotten I knew the laws better than they did. I had studied them, memorized them, while they had been busy with gossip and scheming. I took a step forward, and this time, they both scrambled back. “Now, I am giving you an order as your Luna. Get out of my suite. Or I will call the Enforcers to carry out the sentence.” From behind me, Cora peeked out. Her eyes, usually so timid, were wide with awe. She was seeing a side of her mother she’d never seen before. Tribecca and Amanda were trapped. They knew I was right. If this became an official matter, not even Faye could protect them from the law. But backing down now would be a humiliation. As they stood there, sputtering, a voice cut through the tension from the open doorway. A voice like a glacier moving. “What is going on in here?” Ryker. Tribecca and Amanda’s faces transformed instantly, their aggression melting away into expressions of pure, theatrical victimhood. “Alpha!” Tribecca cried, rushing forward. “We just came to see how little Cora was doing, and the Luna… she threatened us! She said she was going to have us whipped!” I stared at them, my mind reeling at the audacity of the lie. I turned to Ryker, searching his stormy grey eyes for any sign of trust, any hint that he knew me better than that. I found nothing but cold, weary impatience. His gaze swept over the scene, not even bothering to ask for my side of the story. He looked at me, his jaw tight. “They are Faye’s friends, Elara. Don’t make things difficult.” The floor seemed to drop out from beneath me. He didn’t care about the truth. He only cared about Faye’s feelings, about keeping the peace with her and her followers. I was about to argue, to tell him what they had said to our daughter, but he cut me off, using the one weapon he knew would silence me. The one thing that hurt more than anything else.