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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 4

The whispers started small, like drops of poison seeping into clear water.

I first noticed them during morning patrol assignments. Pack members who usually greeted me with respectful nods now exchanged meaningful glances when I passed. Their conversations died abruptly when I approached, replaced by uncomfortable smiles and forced pleasantries.

"Luna," Marcus, one of our younger warriors, said hesitantly as I reviewed the eastern border reports. "Is everything... alright? Between you and the Alpha?"

The question caught me off guard. "Of course. Why would you ask that?"

His eyes darted nervously. "It's just... Sierra mentioned you've been under a lot of stress lately. She's worried about you."

Worried about me? My wolf stirred uneasily. "What exactly did Sierra say?"

"Nothing bad," Marcus backpedaled quickly. "Just that you've been having trouble sleeping, maybe seeing threats that aren't there. She said it's normal for Lunas to feel overwhelmed sometimes."

The careful phrasing made my skin crawl. Sierra was planting seeds, making my legitimate concerns about pack security sound like paranoid delusions. Making me sound unstable.

I forced a calm smile. "I appreciate Sierra's concern, but I assure you, I'm perfectly fine."

But Marcus's expression remained troubled, as if he'd already decided which version of reality to believe.

The pattern continued throughout the week. During training sessions, I overheard fragments of conversations that stopped when I drew near. Pack members began hesitating before following my orders, their eyes seeking confirmation from others. The respect I'd earned as Luna was eroding, replaced by doubt and pity.

"She's been so jealous lately," I heard Sierra's voice drift from the kitchen as I approached. "Poor thing can't seem to accept that Collin and I are just family. Yesterday she actually accused me of trying to undermine her authority. Can you imagine?"

Sympathetic murmurs followed. "That must be so hard for you, dealing with her suspicions."

"I just feel sorry for her," Sierra continued with practiced sadness. "The pressure of being Luna, raising Ryan alone while Collin's so busy with pack business... it's obviously taking a toll. I've tried to help, but she sees enemies everywhere."

Rage burned in my chest, but I couldn't storm in and defend myself without proving her point. Instead, I retreated, my hands shaking with fury and helplessness.

The formal dinner with the Moonridge Pack delegation arrived like a test I was already failing. The dining hall gleamed with polished silver and crystal, our finest display for the visiting Alpha and his entourage. I'd chosen a deep blue dress that complemented my Luna status, my hair swept into an elegant updo.

Sierra appeared in a stunning emerald gown that made her auburn hair shine like fire. She moved through the room with graceful confidence, charming the visitors with witty conversation and strategic questions about their territory.

"The wine selection is exquisite," Alpha Morrison from Moonridge commented as servers filled our glasses with deep red vintage.

I smiled, raising my glass. "Our vineyards have been producing—"

Sierra's elbow caught my wrist as she reached for her napkin. The wine glass tilted, sending burgundy liquid cascading across my dress and onto the pristine tablecloth. The stain spread like blood, dark and damning.

"Oh my goodness!" Sierra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in apparent horror. "Makenna, I'm so sorry! Here, let me help."

She leaped up immediately, dabbing at the stain with her napkin while the entire table watched. Her movements were quick and efficient, taking charge of the situation with practiced grace.

"Don't worry about it," she assured the concerned visitors. "These things happen. Luna's been so tired lately, haven't you, dear? The stress of pack management can make anyone a little... unsteady."

The words hit their mark perfectly. To the observers, I appeared clumsy and incompetent while Sierra looked gracious and helpful. When I tried to protest, to point out that she'd deliberately knocked my glass, my words sounded exactly like the paranoid accusations she'd been warning everyone about.

"Sierra, you clearly—"

"Please, don't feel embarrassed," she interrupted gently. "We all have off days. Why don't you go change? I'll handle the rest of dinner."

The visiting Alpha's expression had shifted from respect to polite concern. I was trapped—if I accused Sierra of sabotage, I'd sound exactly like the unstable Luna she'd painted me as. If I said nothing, her narrative would stand unchallenged.

I excused myself with as much dignity as I could muster, feeling their pitying stares follow me from the room.

Later that night, I found Collin in his study with Sierra, their heads bent over territorial maps. The sight that once would have sparked jealousy now filled me with cold certainty.

"The Moonridge meeting went well," Sierra was saying. "Though I think Luna Makenna might need some time to... recover from the evening."

Collin glanced up as I entered, his expression guarded. "Makenna. I heard about dinner. Are you alright?"

The careful distance in his voice told me everything. He'd already chosen which version of events to believe.

"I'm fine," I said evenly. "Though we should discuss Sierra's role in pack diplomacy. Her... involvement in tonight's dinner crossed some boundaries."

Sierra's eyes widened with hurt innocence. "I was just trying to help when you had that accident. I thought—"

"It wasn't an accident," I said firmly.

The silence that followed was deafening. Collin's jaw tightened, and Sierra's expression crumpled with wounded disappointment.

"Makenna," Collin said slowly, his Alpha authority creeping into his tone. "You need to stop this. Sierra's been nothing but supportive, and you're repaying her kindness with baseless accusations."

"Baseless?" My voice cracked. "Collin, she deliberately—"

"She what? Helped you when you spilled wine? Tried to salvage a diplomatic dinner when you were clearly having an off night?" His eyes flashed with frustration. "You're proving her point about your state of mind."

The betrayal hit like a physical blow. My own mate was using Sierra's carefully constructed narrative against me, dismissing my legitimate concerns as proof of instability.

"Maybe," Collin continued, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone, "you need to focus less on imaginary slights and more on earning the respect you seem to think you automatically deserve as Luna."

The words shattered the last of my illusions. In Collin's eyes, I was no longer his partner, his equal. I was a problem to be managed, a burden to be tolerated.

Sierra's hand touched his arm in a gesture of comfort, and he didn't pull away.

I left them there, together in the lamplight, and felt something inside me begin to die.

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