
Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King
Chapter 3
The celebration hall buzzed with laughter and congratulations as pack members gathered around the ornate bassinet at the center of the room. Golden streamers hung from the ceiling, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive champagne and catered delicacies—all paid for by funds I now knew had been systematically stolen from accounts my family had secretly maintained.
I stood at the edge of the crowd, my Luna smile perfectly in place, watching Elina cradle her newborn son against her chest. The baby was beautiful, I had to admit—dark hair like his father's, tiny fists waving in the air as pack members cooed over him. Drake stood beside them, his chest puffed with pride in a way I'd never seen before.
"He's perfect," Beta Marcus said, leaning over to stroke the infant's cheek. "Strong Alpha bloodline. You can see it already."
"The future Alpha of Silvermoon Pack," Elina announced, her voice carrying across the hall with practiced authority. She wore a flowing silver dress that complemented her post-pregnancy glow, and that damned Luna pendant still hung around her throat like a declaration of ownership. "Our son will lead this pack to greatness."
Our son. The words hit me like silver claws all over again. I pressed my hand against my flat stomach, where three weeks ago I'd carried Drake's heir—the real heir, the one conceived in a fated mate bond blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. The one I'd lost while calling desperately for help that never came.
"Congratulations, Luna Elina," Elder Patricia said, using the title that should have been reserved for me. "The pack is blessed to have such a strong future leader."
Luna Elina. The pack members weren't even pretending anymore. They'd already transferred their loyalty, their respect, their recognition to the woman who'd given Drake what I couldn't. What I'd tried to give him for three agonizing years of fertility treatments and false hopes.
"Thank you," Elina replied graciously, then her eyes found mine across the room. "Of course, we're so grateful for everyone's support during this time. Isn't that right, Lilah?"
Every head turned toward me, expectant smiles on their faces. They wanted me to play my part, to congratulate the woman who'd stolen my mate and my place. To celebrate the child that had replaced mine before I'd even finished bleeding from the loss.
"Of course," I heard myself say, my voice steady despite the screaming in my chest. "The pack's future is what matters most."
I moved forward through the crowd, each step feeling like walking through quicksand. When I reached the happy couple, I looked down at the sleeping infant and felt my heart crack a little more. He was innocent in all this—a baby who deserved love and protection, regardless of the circumstances of his birth.
"He's beautiful," I said softly, and meant it. Then I looked up at Elina, meeting her triumphant gaze with my own steady one. "You must be so proud."
"We are," she replied, her smile sharp as silver. "It's amazing what the right partnership can create. When two people are truly meant to be together, the Moon Goddess blesses them with such gifts."
The implication hung in the air like poison. Around us, pack members nodded approvingly, completely missing—or choosing to ignore—the cruelty of her words. Drake said nothing, just stood there accepting congratulations as if he hadn't destroyed two lives to create this moment.
"Indeed," I replied quietly. "The Moon Goddess has interesting ways of revealing the truth."
Later that evening, after the celebration had wound down and the pack members had returned to their homes, I sat in my study surrounded by financial documents I'd been reviewing for hours. The evidence was damning and extensive—years of systematic embezzlement that painted a picture of corruption I'd never suspected.
Victoria Sanchez, Drake's Beta mother, had been the mastermind. Bank statements showed regular transfers from pack operational accounts into personal investment portfolios. But she hadn't worked alone. Drake's Gamma relatives—his cousins James and Robert—had provided access to the pack's financial systems, skimming percentages from every major expenditure.
And Elina's signature appeared on dozens of authorization forms, her elegant handwriting approving fund transfers that should have required Luna-level clearance. Clearance she'd never officially been given.
They'd been living off my family's money while stealing what little the pack generated independently. Every security improvement, every territorial expansion, every moment of prosperity that Drake attributed to his leadership—it had all been funded by Morrison Pack wealth while his inner circle lined their own pockets.
I traced one particular transaction with my finger, a transfer of fifty thousand dollars from pack emergency funds into James Sanchez's personal account, dated just two weeks after my miscarriage. Emergency funds that were supposed to be reserved for medical crises and territorial threats.
They'd stolen from their own pack while I'd bled and grieved in silence.
My phone buzzed with an encrypted message from my father's financial advisor: "Territory inspection scheduled tomorrow. Neighboring Alpha Marcus Rivera requesting comprehensive financial audit. Recommend immediate consultation."
I smiled grimly at the screen. Marcus Rivera was known for his sharp business sense and his intolerance for financial irregularities. If he was requesting an audit, it meant he'd already noticed discrepancies that didn't add up.
Drake was about to discover just how little he actually knew about running his own pack.
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