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Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King Novel Cover

Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

I tapped out a message to my mate: "What are you up to right now?" Patrick, the Alpha heir of the Silverfang Pack, replied immediately: "I'm at home, tidying up." He sent a photo of a familiar room, gleaming and immaculate. I hadn’t mentioned that I had already checked the security cameras. He wasn’t lying; he was indeed at home, keeping himself busy. My wolf stirred uneasily in the back of my mind, a low growl of suspicion that I tried to ignore. So, here’s the conundrum. Standing right in front of me was another Patrick. But who could this impersonator be? As a Gamma of the Moonlight Pack, I knew better than to ignore such a glaring inconsistency. My instincts were on high alert, my wolf’s senses sharpening as I studied the figure ahead. --- I noticed the other Patrick as I left the pack’s headquarters, a sleek modern building that doubled as our central hub.
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Chapter 2

The weeks following Ryan's near-disaster in the forest should have brought changes. Instead, they brought Sierra's calculated ascension.

She began appearing at pack meetings—not as an observer, but positioned strategically beside Collin's chair, her manicured fingers resting possessively on his forearm as if she belonged there. The sight made my wolf snarl beneath my skin, but I forced myself to maintain Luna composure as visiting pack leaders watched our dynamics with keen interest.

"The eastern patrol routes need adjustment," I said during one particularly tense meeting with the Crescent Ridge Pack. "Recent rogue activity suggests—"

"With respect, Luna," Sierra interrupted smoothly, her voice carrying false deference, "don't you think emotional responses might cloud strategic judgment? Perhaps we should consider more... objective perspectives."

The visiting Alpha's eyebrows rose slightly. Heat flooded my cheeks as murmurs rippled through the room. Sierra had just questioned my competence in front of allied packs—a direct challenge to my authority.

"My judgment is based on intelligence reports and territory assessments," I replied evenly, though my hands clenched beneath the table. "Not emotion."

Sierra tilted her head with that practiced look of concern. "Of course. I just worry that maternal instincts might make you overly cautious. Sometimes bold action serves the pack better than... protective hesitation."

The implication hung heavy in the air. She was painting me as weak, overprotective, unfit for leadership. And Collin—Collin said nothing. His silence felt like a blade between my ribs.

The pattern continued during training sessions. When I corrected Sierra's form during combat practice, pointing out her sloppy footwork that could get someone killed, she smiled sweetly and ignored my instruction.

"Sierra, I said adjust your stance," I commanded, my Luna authority ringing clear.

She laughed, actually laughed. "Relax, Makenna. We're all friends here."

"You will address me as Luna during pack training," I said sharply. "And you will follow instruction."

Before Sierra could respond, Collin stepped between us, his Alpha presence washing over the training ground. "That's enough, Makenna. You're being too harsh on someone who's trying to help the pack."

The words hit like a slap. Too harsh? For expecting basic respect and protocol?

"Collin, she directly disobeyed—"

"She's adjusting," he cut me off, his tone final. "Show some patience."

The pack members shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension crackling between their Alpha and Luna. Sierra's smile widened, triumphant, as she moved to stand beside Collin. Her shoulder brushed his arm—another calculated touch, another claim.

That evening, I found them by the fireplace in our private quarters. The sight stopped me cold in the doorway.

Sierra sat curled in the chair that should have been mine, her legs tucked beneath her, wine glass balanced delicately in her fingers. Collin leaned against the mantle, his posture relaxed in a way I rarely saw anymore. They were deep in conversation, their voices low and intimate.

"You understand the burden of leadership," Collin was saying, his eyes fixed on Sierra's face. "Sometimes I feel like I'm carrying the weight of everyone's expectations."

Sierra's hand reached out to rest against his chest, her fingers splaying over his heart. "You don't have to carry it alone, Collin. Some of us see the real you—the man behind the Alpha mask."

Their heads leaned closer together, and something inside me shattered. This wasn't pack business. This wasn't casual conversation. This was intimacy I hadn't shared with my own mate in months.

"Am I interrupting something?" The words came out sharper than intended.

Collin straightened, but Sierra's hand remained on his chest for a beat too long before sliding away. "Just discussing pack morale," he said, not quite meeting my eyes.

"Pack morale," I repeated flatly. "At midnight. In our private quarters."

Sierra rose gracefully, her smile never wavering. "Collin was telling me about the challenges of Alpha life. It's fascinating, really—the sacrifices required, the difficult decisions." Her gaze flicked meaningfully between us. "Not everyone can understand that kind of pressure."

The implication was clear: I didn't understand. I wasn't enough.

"Perhaps this conversation should continue tomorrow," I said, my voice steady despite the rage building in my chest. "During appropriate hours."

Sierra gathered her wine glass, moving toward the door with unhurried grace. As she passed me, she paused. "Of course, Luna. Though sometimes the most important conversations happen when guards are down, don't you think?"

After she left, silence stretched between Collin and me like a chasm. He turned back to the fire, his shoulders tense.

"She was upset about her integration into the pack," he said finally. "I was reassuring her."

"By letting her put her hands all over you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Makenna. You're reading too much into—"

"Into what? Into her complete disrespect for our bond? For my position? For basic pack protocol?"

Collin spun to face me, his Alpha aura flaring. "Sierra is family. She's trying to find her place here after years away. Your jealousy is making you paranoid."

Jealousy. The word stung because part of it was true. I was jealous—jealous of the easy intimacy they shared, the way his face softened when he looked at her, the way she could make him laugh when I couldn't even get him to truly see me.

"This isn't about jealousy," I said quietly. "This is about respect. Something she clearly doesn't have for me or our mate bond."

"Our mate bond," Collin repeated, and something flickered across his face—frustration, resentment, something cold that made my wolf whimper.

The emotion was so strong it resonated through our mental connection, and suddenly I was drowning in thoughts that weren't my own. The mate bond flared wide open, unguarded in his anger, and his private thoughts crashed into my consciousness like a tidal wave.

*Sierra understands me in ways Makenna never could. She sees the real me, not just the Alpha she was assigned to love. God, if the Moon Goddess had chosen differently... I only accepted this mate bond because she chose Makenna for me, not because I wanted her. Not because I could ever want her the way I want—*

I gasped, stumbling backward as the mental connection snapped shut. But it was too late. I'd heard everything. Felt everything.

The truth that would destroy us both.

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