Rejected by the alpha, crowned as the rogue Queen

SIERRA'S POV The morning after the Luna Ceremony was cold. The pack grounds, usually alive with the chatter of warriors and the scent of breakfast drifting from the kitchens, felt… wrong. Quiet in a way that wasn’t peaceful but mocking. I could still feel the echo of it, the pain that had torn through me last night when Alpha Isaak rejected the bond. It hadn’t faded, not really. It pulsed beneath my ribs like a bruise that would never heal. My wolf hadn’t stirred since. She was curled somewhere deep inside me, silent, trembling. I wanted to hide. But omegas didn’t get to hide. My duty was to clean the courtyard after the ceremony, just like every morning after a festival. So I walked there barefoot, the hem of my ruined gown dragging through the mud. The same gown I’d worn when the Moon Goddess had dared to mark me as his. The memory hit like a blade. The sound of his voice, the cold look in his eyes. The gasps, the whispers, the silence that followed when the bond snapped. It hadn’t been a nightmare. The entire pack had seen it happen. By sunrise, every wolf from the eastern border to the mountain outpost would know that their Alpha had rejected the Goddess’s choice, and that the rejected one was me. The low-born omega. The shame of it burned hotter than the pain in my chest. As I bent to gather the discarded garlands, I heard laughter behind me. Bethelina. The Alpha's rumoured lover. I didn’t have to turn around to recognize her. Her sweet and sharp scent was everywhere. She’d been at Isaak’s side since before his father’s death. Everyone knew what she was to him. She was his equal in every way that mattered to the pack. I straightened slowly. She stood at the far end of the courtyard, surrounded by a cluster of she-wolves and warriors, her golden hair gleaming in the weak sunlight. She wore a gown of pale blue silk that hugged her perfect curves, her smile sharp as her claws. When her gaze found me, that smile widened. “Well, if it isn’t our blessed Luna,” she purred, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Cleaning up after her own ceremony.” The laughter that followed was cruel, bright. My stomach turned. I kept my eyes on the ground, clutching the wilted garlands tighter. “Bethelina ,” I murmured, hoping she’d lose interest. “Oh, don’t look so frightened,” she said, taking a graceful step forward. “I only wanted to thank you for the entertainment. Last night was… unforgettable.” A ripple of amusement moved through her little crowd. “She actually thought the Goddess chose her,” one of the warriors snickered. “I heard she fainted,” another added. “Pitiful thing.” My face burned. I forced myself to keep breathing, to stay silent. Omegas knew better than to talk back to their betters. But Bethelina wasn’t satisfied. She circled me like a cat toying with prey. “Tell me, Sierra,” she said softly, “what did it feel like? Thinking, even for a heartbeat, that you could be Luna?” I clenched my jaw. “What did it feel like,” she pressed, “when he looked at you, and chose me instead?” The words struck like claws. Laughter exploded again, sharper this time. My heart pounded in my chest, and I tasted salt on my tongue. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. But the rules of the pack chained me to stillness. “I,” I began, but the sound stopped in my throat. “Speak up, kennel girl,” one of the warriors jeered. “Maybe she’s still waiting for the Alpha to change his mind,” another said. Bethelina laughed. “Oh, he won’t. Isaak knows what he wants. He always has.” She tilted her head, feigning pity. “You poor thing. Did you really think the Moon’s mistake could make you his equal?” Something inside me twisted. I could take cruelty. I’d lived with it all my life. But hearing his name on her lips, said with such possessive pride, it broke something. I met her gaze, my voice trembling but clear. “You speak boldly for someone who fears the Goddess’s will.” The courtyard went silent. For a heartbeat, I thought maybe I’d imagined her furious expression. Then she smiled again, all teeth. “You think you can use the Goddess to shield you?” She turned to the others. “She doesn’t even realize what she’s done to him. Do you?” She looked back at me, eyes glittering. “You cursed him. The moment you were revealed, you humiliated him before the entire pack. You made him look weak. And now he has to live with that shame. Because of you.” Gasps. Whispers. Someone murmured, “The Goddess wouldn’t curse the Alpha.” But I could see in their faces that they believed her. Bethelina stepped closer until her perfume made me nauseous. Her voice dropped. “You should leave, omega. Before he decides to make your punishment public.” I swallowed hard. “I have nowhere else to go.” She tilted her head. “Then maybe you should crawl back to whatever hole you came from and pray the Goddess doesn’t strike you down for your arrogance.” Her words were met with laughter again. And that was when my wolf finally stirred, whimpering inside me. The rejection had torn her apart, but hearing them mock us broke what was left. I bit my lip hard, trying to anchor myself, but the connection was slipping. My vision blurred, the edges of the world going weg. The pain surged through me again. Someone laughed louder. “Look, she’s crying!” My knees buckled, the garlands spilling from my hands as I hit the ground. The pain tore through my chest again, sharper than before. My wolf howled and then went silent. It was like something inside me had died all over again. Bethelina ’s laughter faltered. “Oh.” Someone muttered, “She’s collapsing,” I couldn’t hear them anymore. Just the sound of my heartbeat slowing, the cold creeping through my limbs. Through the blur, I saw movement at the far edge of the courtyard. Isaak. He stood there in his dark cloak, expression unreadable, surrounded by two of his guards. Our eyes met for the briefest moment. For a heartbeat, something flickered behind his cold mask. I felt his wolf stir. I felt it, even through the pain, an echo of a growl deep within him that called to what was left of mine. He wanted to come to me. I knew it. Every instinct in him screamed too. But then his jaw tightened. He turned his face away. “Isaak,” Bethelina started, her voice suddenly uncertain. “Enough,” he said, his tone flat. “All of you.” The courtyard fell silent. Even the laughter died. He looked at me once more, just a glance and then said, without emotion, “Get her out of my sight.” Two guards stepped forward, but I shook my head weakly, pushing myself upright before they could touch me. “I can walk,” I whispered. My voice sounded like someone else’s. Isaak’s gaze lingered for a moment. There was no mercy there, no warmth. Only the same calm authority he gave to anyone beneath him. But his scent betrayed him. Beneath the steel and smoke, I caught it, a faint fractured note of turmoil. His wolf was restless, howling against his control. He turned and walked away, cloak sweeping behind him. Bethelina followed, though her steps were slower now, her face jeered at me. The crowd began to disperse. No one offered help. No one met my eyes. When the courtyard was empty, I knelt again and gathered the wilted garlands, my hands trembling. My wolf had gone silent . I felt her emptiness like a wound. I pressed a shaking hand to my chest where the bond had once glowed. There was nothing there now. Just cold. The wind shifted, carrying his scent away. And then, for the first time since the ceremony, I allowed myself to cry. Not quiet, hidden tears, but deep, broken sobs that echoed through the empty courtyard. He had seen me fall. He had heard them laugh. And he had walked away.