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Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King Novel Cover

Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

The grand hall of the Silver Moon Pack house had never felt so cold. I stood alone in the center of the circular space, hundreds of eyes boring into me from all sides. The once-familiar faces of my pack members had transformed into a sea of strangers, their expressions ranging from curiosity to disgust. The whispers that had haunted me for weeks had culminated in this moment—this public execution of everything I had ever been. My wolf, Lyra, whimpered weakly inside me. *Stay strong, Victoria. Whatever happens, we face it together.* But Lyra's voice was faint, a mere echo of the powerful presence she had once been. The injuries from the rogue attack three months ago had weakened her beyond recognition, and with each passing day, I felt her slipping further away. The heavy oak doors at the far end of the hall swung open. Alpha Michael Sterling—my mate, my love, my executioner—strode in, his powerful aura washing over the assembly like a suffocating wave.
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Chapter 3

The knock on my door was so faint I almost didn't hear it through the haze of pain that had become my constant companion. Lena, our pack healer, stood in the doorway, her face drawn with exhaustion and something else—grief, fresh and raw.

"May I come in?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, struggling to sit upright on the thin mattress that had replaced my once-luxurious bed. My scarred hands trembled with the effort, the wounds from yesterday's broken glass still weeping.

"It's Ryan," Lena said, taking a hesitant step into my sparse room. "He... he didn't make it. The internal injuries were too severe."

The news hit me like a physical blow. Lyra whimpered inside me, her voice now so faint I strained to hear her. *The poor boy. He deserved better than this.*

"When?" I managed to ask.

"Just before dawn." Lena's eyes darted nervously to the door. "I shouldn't be here, but I thought you deserved to know. He spoke of you, at the end."

My throat tightened. Ryan Thompson—the pack warrior whose rescue had cost me everything. Michael's half-brother, though almost no one knew the truth. The former Alpha's secret shame, hidden in plain sight.

"What happens to his body?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"Nothing yet. The Alpha... he hasn't given instructions."

I closed my eyes, gathering what little strength remained in my broken body. "Thank you, Lena."

She hesitated at the door. "Victoria, your wolf... she's fading faster than I predicted. The strain of the rejection, combined with your injuries—"

"I know," I cut her off gently. "We both know."

After she left, I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of my window, watching the pack members go about their day, oblivious to the loss of a brave warrior—a prince in all but name.

---

I found Michael in his study, hunched over territory maps, his powerful frame tense with concentration. He didn't look up when I entered, though I knew he sensed my presence. The bond might be severed, but some awareness lingered between us, a cruel reminder of what we had lost.

"Alpha," I addressed him formally, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "I've come to request a proper warrior's burial for Ryan Thompson."

Michael's head snapped up, his amber eyes flashing with sudden rage. "You dare?"

I stood my ground, though my legs threatened to give way beneath me. "He died defending our pack. He deserves the honor of a warrior's ceremony."

"Defending our pack?" Michael rose slowly, his aura expanding until it pressed against me like a physical force. "Or defending you?"

"He was a loyal pack member," I insisted, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my insides. "His service deserves recognition."

Michael circled his desk, moving toward me with predatory grace. "You still don't understand, do you? You come here, wearing that pathetic Omega collar, to plead for the man you chose over my father?"

"That's not what happened," I whispered, the familiar denial falling on deaf ears as it had countless times before.

"He was nothing to me," Michael snarled, his face inches from mine. "He dies unremembered."

The cruelty of his words struck deeper than any physical blow. If only he knew the truth—that the man he was condemning to an unmarked grave shared his blood.

"Michael, please—"

"He was nothing to me," he repeated, louder this time. "And soon, you will be nothing too."

He stormed past me, the force of his movement nearly knocking me off my feet. The door slammed behind him, leaving me alone with the weight of a secret that grew heavier by the day.

---

Night had fallen by the time I heard the news. Two young Delta wolves were whispering in the kitchen as I scrubbed pots with my raw, bleeding hands.

"The Alpha ordered Thompson's body dumped in the eastern forest," one murmured. "Said the rogues could have what's left of him."

"Harsh," the other replied. "He was a good fighter."

"Doesn't matter. Alpha's orders."

I dropped the pot I was holding, ignoring their startled looks as I fled the kitchen. My room was on the ground floor now—a small mercy that allowed me to slip out the window once darkness fell completely.

The forest was alive with night sounds as I dragged myself toward the eastern border, each step sending waves of agony through my weakened body. Lyra, normally my strength, was eerily silent, conserving what little energy she had left.

I found him at the edge of our territory, his body carelessly abandoned like refuse. The moonlight illuminated his face, peaceful in death despite the disrespect shown to his remains. I fell to my knees beside him, tears streaming down my face.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, gathering stones to place around his body in the ancient warrior's pattern. "I'm so sorry."

With trembling hands, I placed the ceremonial warrior's stone over his heart—a small token I had carried with me, knowing this moment might come. Blood from my reopened wounds dripped onto his cold chest as I arranged his arms in the traditional pose of a fallen fighter.

"May the Moon Goddess guide your spirit, brother," I murmured, completing the simple rite. "May she welcome you home."

As I spoke the words, a gentle breeze stirred the leaves around us, almost like a response. For a moment, I imagined I could feel Lyra stirring within me, offering her own farewell to the fallen warrior.

---

Three days later, I slipped away during the changing of the guard patrols. My meeting with Elias had been arranged through Lena—a dangerous risk for both of them, but one they were willing to take.

The former Beta waited at the territory border, his weathered face lined with concern as I approached. He had served Michael's father faithfully for decades, one of the few who knew the full truth about Ryan's parentage.

"Luna," he greeted me, using my former title as an act of defiance.

"Not anymore," I reminded him gently.

His eyes filled with sorrow as he took in my appearance—the Omega collar, the fresh bruises, my emaciated frame. "This has gone too far. You need to tell him the truth about Ryan."

I shook my head. "I can't."

"Victoria, he's killing you. Your wolf is fading. If he knew that Ryan was his half-brother—"

"Then what?" I interrupted. "The former Alpha's reputation would be destroyed. The Sterling bloodline tainted in the eyes of the pack. Everything Michael has ever believed about his father would crumble."

"Better that than this," Elias insisted, gesturing to my broken body.

"I swore to protect the Sterling line's honor," I said firmly. "I made that promise to his father as he lay dying in my arms."

Elias stepped forward, pulling me into a gentle embrace. "Your loyalty will be your death."

"Perhaps," I whispered against his shoulder. "But I will die with my promise intact."

Neither of us noticed the small click of a camera from the shadows, or the triumphant smile that spread across Amanda's face as she captured our embrace in the fading light.

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