Rejected by the Alpha, Crowned by His Enemy

"She sold herself."

The whispered words drifted around the stone corner of the training yard, cutting through the damp afternoon air.

"I heard it started the moment Damian went missing."

"Griffin Locke doesn't just hand over three hundred Stonebrook soldiers out of the goodness of his heart. She traded her body for that army."

"I heard she begged him on her knees."

"Disgusting. And she calls herself our Luna."

I stepped out from the shadow of the armory wall.

"Keep going."

The three women froze. A basket of wet laundry slipped from a maid's hands, hitting the mud with a wet slap.

I stared at them. "Don't stop now. I want to hear exactly how I managed to seduce the Stonebrook Alpha."

No one moved. The tallest woman, a baker's wife, lowered her eyes to the dirt.

"Look at me," I commanded.

The woman flinched but kept her chin tucked.

"Who started this rumor?"

Silence.

"If you are brave enough to drag my name through the mud, you are brave enough to tell me where you got the dirt."

The youngest girl trembled. "The taverns. The guards were talking about it over ale."

"And who told the guards?"

"Lady Selene," the girl squeaked out. "She was in the kitchens. She told the cook she felt terrible for Alpha Damian. She said it was a tragedy he returned to a tainted mate."

I let out a short, harsh laugh.

"Tainted."

"We merely talked about what we heard," the baker's wife muttered, finally glancing up. "Everyone knows you spent nights in his camp."

"Next time you repeat a lie," I said, voice dropping to a deadly calm, "remember who stood on these walls and bled for you while you hid in the cellars."

I turned my back on them and walked away.

I didn't make it halfway across the courtyard before Thomas stepped into her path. He held a rolled parchment bearing the official council seal.

"You are making a scene," Thomas said.

"I am correcting a lie."

"Are you?" Thomas unrolled the paper. "Because the council held a vote this morning. Your alliance with Stonebrook is under formal investigation."

I snatched the parchment from his hands. "An investigation into what? Griffin Locke saved this pack."

"Griffin Locke hated Blackthorn for a decade. Then you rode to his border alone, and suddenly he sent his vanguard to protect our gates. The council demands to know the true price of that treaty."

"I gave him the eastern trade route."

"A route that was practically worthless during the winter."

"A route that gave his merchants direct access to the sea!" I countered. "I negotiated!"

I shoved the paper back into Thomas's chest. "We argued over supply lines until sunrise. He called me stubborn. I called him arrogant. Then he signed the treaty because I brought him a solution, not a plea."

Thomas sneered. "A very convenient cover story. Selene thinks otherwise."

"Selene wasn't here." I stepped directly into his space. "When the northern raiders breached the lower gate, Griffin's soldiers died defending your home."

"He sent troops because you warmed his bed."

"Griffin Locke respected me," I hissed. "He listened to me. Something this family knows absolutely nothing about."

"Your lover is miles away, Elara. And Damian has officially stripped your command of the guard. You have nothing."

"I have the truth."

"The truth is whatever the Alpha says it is." Thomas smoothed his collar. "And Damian thinks you're a whore."

***

Night fell over Blackthorn.

Rain hammered against the glass of the high tower window.

I sat alone in the dark, pulled my knees to the chest and rested my chin on the arms.

The fortress was silent. No guards stood outside. No maids brought any dinner. I was entirely isolated.

I stared at the water streaking down the glass.

*Damian thinks you're a whore.*

The words echoed in my mind, loud and sharp.

Three years.

I had spent three years waking up before dawn to review border reports. I had rationed my own meals to ensure the orphans had enough grain during the winter. I had sold my mother's wedding ring to buy steel for the soldiers' swords.

I had fought for this pack.

I had bled for Damian's legacy.

And they repaid me by spitting on my name.

I thought of Damian. I pictured his golden eyes, clouded with poison and suspicion. He didn't want to be saved. He wanted the soft, weeping woman who fed him toxic tea and stroked his ego. He wanted the lie.

Then I thought of Griffin.

I remembered the grueling ride to Stonebrook three years ago. The freezing rain. The hostile stares of Griffin's border patrol. I had walked straight into his command tent without a weapon, demanding an audience.

Griffin had been cleaning a broadsword. He hadn't even looked up at first.

*Blackthorn is burning,* I had told him.

*Let it burn,* he had answered.

*If we fall, the northern tribes take the valley. You'll be next.*

That made him look up.

I remembered the Stonebrook Alpha sitting across a map-strewn table later that night. He had dark, calculating eyes and a jaw carved from granite. When I demanded his troops, he hadn't laughed. He hadn't dismissed me.

*You ask for a lot, little Luna,* Griffin had said.

*I ask for what I need,* I had replied.

He had studied me for a long minute. Then he handed me a pen.

He had treated me like an equal.

I lowered my legs. I pressed the bare feet against the cold stone floor.

A deep, heavy exhaustion settled into my bones. It wasn't the ache of physical labor. It was the crushing weight of a one-sided war.

I had spent my entire adult life trying to prove I was worthy of the Luna title. Trying to prove I was worthy of Damian's love.

"Why?" I whispered to the empty room.

No one answered.

I stood up and walked to the small mirror hanging above the washbasin.

The woman staring back at me had dark circles under her eyes and a pale, drawn face. She looked like a ghost haunting her own life.

"I'm done."

I spoke the words clearly. They didn't shake.

"I am done."

I would not fight for a man who looked at me with disgust. I would not protect a pack that called me a traitor.

I turned away from the mirror, walked to the heavy oak wardrobe, and pulled the doors open. i bypassed the silk dresses and Luna gowns. i reached for my sturdy leather riding trousers and a thick wool cloak.

A sharp rap sounded at my door.

The knock came again. Two heavy strikes against the wood.

I crossed the room and pulled the heavy iron handle.

A man stood in the shadowed corridor. He wore a heavy leather riding cloak, completely soaked from the rain. Water dripped from his hood onto the floorboards.

He didn't wear Blackthorn colors.

He wore deep crimson and iron gray.

Stonebrook.

The man reached into his cloak and pulled out a sealed parchment.

"Luna Elara," he said, his voice a low rumble. "A message from Alpha Locke."

He pressed the letter into my hand.

"He heard what is happening here. He says it is time to collect his debt."