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Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Lycan Novel Cover

Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Lycan

I was the Luna of the Silvermoon Pack, bound in a political marriage to Alpha Jace for three miserable years. But because I was a "wolfless" runt, he never touched me. Instead, he moved his late brother's widow and her bratty son into my wing, publicly treating her as his true mate. He let her son destroy my parents' only surviving photograph and demanded I apologize to the boy. When my cruel grandmother summoned us to the Winter Solstice Conclave—a deadly trial—Jace knew I would be brutally tortured if I arrived without my Alpha. Yet, he chose to stay home to comfort his mistress over a fake stomach ache. "I never wanted a wolfless mate," he had sneered, abandoning me. He handed me over to the Blackwood Pack's Terrace of Correction. Forced to my knees, the silver-laced stone burned my flesh while the blizzard froze my blood. As my vision darkened, I realized he had intentionally sent me here to die. I had swallowed my pride for three years, hiding my true identity and the signed rejection papers I had tricked him into signing, only to be thrown away like trash for another woman's fake tears. Just as I prepared to let the darkness take me, the impenetrable iron gates of the Keep were obliterated by a massive black Maybach. Baron, my terrifying Lycan cousin, stepped into the storm and scooped my scorched body into his arms. "Short every stock tied to the Silvermoon name," he ordered into his phone, his eyes locked on my abusers. "I want Jace begging on his knees by sunrise."
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Chapter 6

Elyse POV

The heavy oak doors groaned open, and the temperature in the Great Hall seemed to plummet further. Jace strode in, his tailored suit crisp, expecting the usual submissive quiet of his domain. Instead, he was met with the suffocating aura of Elder Marcus’s fury and the cloying scent of Ciera’s panic.

Jace stopped dead. His eyes locked onto the desecrated tapestry, the dark purple stain bleeding across the ancient threads. I could practically feel his Inner Wolf, Titan, thrashing beneath his skin, agitated by the overwhelming negativity saturating his territory. All the color drained from Jace's face.

"What the hell is this?" Jace demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and disbelief.

Elder Marcus didn't give him a second to breathe. "This is the result of your negligence, Alpha. The Moon Goddess's sacred relic has been defiled. By the ancient laws of the Pack, the Elders' Council has unanimously voted to freeze the Alpha's Discretionary Fund immediately."

Jace let out a guttural roar, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "You can't do that! I am the Alpha!"

"And you have failed your Pack," Marcus replied coldly.

Ciera scrambled off the sofa, throwing herself into Jace’s arms. "Jace, do something!" she sobbed, her mascara running down her cheeks. She pointed a trembling finger at me. "It’s her fault! Elyse provoked Leo on purpose! She made him do it!"

Jace’s furious gaze snapped to me, his eyes flashing gold.

I didn't flinch. I stood perfectly still, my expression a mask of serene indifference. "I merely reminded her that Pack relics require reverence, Ciera," I said, my voice carrying clearly across the silent hall. "You were the one who explicitly told Leo, 'Ignore her, go play.'"

Ciera opened her mouth, but no words came out. Jace looked between us, the reality of his ruined finances and shattered authority sinking in. He was trapped, stripped of his power in front of his mistress and his Elders.

As Marcus turned to leave, signaling the end of the discussion, I adjusted my shawl and began to walk toward the stairs.

"Elyse, wait."

Jace’s voice stopped me. I turned to see him gently pushing a hysterical Ciera aside. He marched toward me, swallowing his pride, though his tone remained laced with that arrogant, commanding edge he always used.

"As my Luna, it is your duty to support this Pack," Jace said, lowering his voice so the lingering guards wouldn't hear. "The purification ritual will cost a fortune. I need you to open your personal trust fund from the Blackwood Pack to cover it. It will fix Ciera and Leo's little mistake and calm everyone down."

A wave of physical nausea washed over me at his sheer audacity. He wanted me to drain my own dowry to clean up his mistress's mess.

I looked at him, letting a slow, mocking smirk touch my lips. "My trust has strict withdrawal limitations, Jace," I lied smoothly. "It seems the cost of being your Luna is funding my own replacement. I'm afraid my accounts are closed to you, Alpha."

I didn't wait for his reaction. I turned my back on his sputtering rage and Ciera's renewed wailing, ascending the stairs to the West Wing. The nominal marriage between us had just shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

Once inside my suite, I locked the heavy brass door. The silence of my sanctuary wrapped around me.

I walked past the packed suitcases hidden carefully beneath my large bed. Moving to the massive walk-in closet, I pressed a specific sequence against the back wood paneling. It clicked open, revealing a hidden compartment.

Inside lay a velvet-wrapped bundle. I pulled back the fabric, revealing the faint, ethereal silver glow of the *real* Moon-Blessed Tapestry. I had commissioned a human artisan to weave the flawless replica days ago. Jace and Ciera had destroyed nothing but expensive, unblessed fabric.

I traced the glowing platinum threads, a cold thrill of victory humming in my veins.

Suddenly, my encrypted burner phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I picked it up. The screen illuminated the dark room with a single, anonymous text message.

*Your presence is required at the Winter Solstice Conclave this Friday. Do not test my patience, Elyse. — Hilda Blackwood.*

The blood in my veins turned to ice. My grandmother. The Matriarch of the Blackwood Pack.

This wasn't an invitation; it was a summons for a trial. The Blackwoods had sensed the instability here. They were coming to reclaim their asset.

I looked down at the suitcases under my bed. My plan to vanish the moment I handed Jace the rejection papers was ruined. If I ran now, Hilda’s trackers would hunt me down before I crossed the state line. I had to stay, attend the Conclave to feign loyalty, and find a new window to escape.

The clock was ticking, and the walls of the Shadowcrest Pack House were closing in.

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