Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

The Former Luna's eyes held a sadness that pierced through me as she led me to the small cottage on the edge of pack territory. The building was modest—a single room with bare necessities—but it was mine, a sanctuary from the whispers and stares.

"I've arranged for basic supplies," she said, her voice soft but carrying the natural authority of her position. "It's not much, but it's what I can do without openly defying my son."

I clutched my still-flat stomach, feeling the faint flutter of life within me. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice cracking. "For not casting me out."

She reached out, her cool fingers brushing my cheek. "The Moon Goddess does not make mistakes, Hattie. Antonio's rejection... it dishonors everything sacred." Her eyes hardened momentarily. "Everything I taught him."

The cottage smelled of dust and abandonment. A small bed, a table with two chairs, a kitchenette with minimal appliances—it was sparse but clean.

"I'll ensure you receive essentials," she continued, setting down a basket of food. "But I cannot openly support you. The pack would see it as a challenge to Antonio's authority."

"I understand," I said, though the rejection burned like acid in my chest.

She paused at the door, her elegant frame silhouetted against the fading light. "The pain will come in waves. The bond..." She didn't finish, but she didn't need to. We both knew what awaited me.

---

The pain came worse than I'd imagined.

I jolted awake, gasping, my hand pressed against my chest where the phantom agony pulsed in time with my heartbeat. The mate bond, though rejected, still existed—a severed cord that bled into my consciousness.

"It hurts," I whispered to the empty room, moonlight streaming through the thin curtains.

My wolf whimpered inside me, curling protectively around the tiny life we carried. *Our pup. Ours alone now.*

I could feel him sometimes—Antonio. Not his presence exactly, but the echo of his emotions through what remained of our bond. His anger. His desire. His satisfaction.

Especially his desire.

When he was with Mikayla in the main house, the sensations were worst. I'd double over, clutching my stomach as waves of nausea and jealousy crashed through me. My wolf would howl, a sound I could barely contain in my throat.

"Stop," I begged the ceiling. "Please stop."

But the bond wouldn't listen. It was like a telephone with no way to hang up.

---

"Look at you, little sister," Mikayla's voice dripped with false sweetness as she surveyed my cottage. "How... quaint."

She'd arrived unannounced, bearing a box of supplies that looked impressive until you noticed the expired dates and cheap quality.

"I brought you some things," she said, setting the box on the table with a flourish. "Can't have the mother of Antonio's heir going without, can we?"

I straightened my spine, one hand instinctively covering my growing belly. "Thank you for the thought."

She smiled, all perfect teeth and cold eyes. "It's nothing, really. Just some old things we don't need anymore." She fingered the fabric of my dress. "You should take better care of yourself, Hattie. For the pup's sake."

Her eyes flicked to my stomach, calculation replacing concern. "Though I suppose it doesn't matter much. Everyone knows an Alpha needs a strong Luna beside him." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Not a weak, wolfless mate who can barely stand upright."

My wolf snarled, but I kept my expression neutral. "Is there anything else, Mikayla?"

She straightened, brushing invisible dust from her immaculate outfit. "Just checking on you, sister dear. Antonio insists I look after you properly."

---

The pack gathering hall buzzed with conversation as I slipped through the side entrance. Mandatory attendance—another of Antonio's cruelties.

"Ah, Hattie," Mikayla's voice carried across the room. "Perfect timing."

All eyes turned to me as I stood frozen in the doorway.

"We were just about to eat," she continued, gesturing to the head table where Antonio sat, his expression unreadable. "And we need someone to serve."

The room fell silent. Everyone knew what this was—public humiliation.

I moved forward mechanically, taking the tray of food from the kitchen. My hands trembled slightly as I approached the table where Antonio and Mikayla sat, their chairs pushed intimately close together.

"Careful now," Mikayla said loudly as I bent to serve them. "These plates are expensive."

Antonio didn't look at me, but I felt his awareness—the slight tensing of his shoulders, the flicker of his gaze toward me before he deliberately turned away.

"Thank you, Hattie," Mikayla said, her voice honey-sweet poison. "You're so good at this."

As I straightened, I caught a glimpse of something in Antonio's eyes—regret? Disgust? Before I could decipher it, Mikayla's hand slid possessively over his, and the moment shattered.

I stepped back, my heart hammering against my ribs, as they continued their meal—and their life—together while I served them like the omega I'd become.