Rejected By The Alpha: The Secret White Wolf Queen

Celine POV

The phantom ache in my chest was finally fading into a dull, manageable throb. It had been a few days since the Rejection was finalized, severing the Mate-bond completely. While Damian was likely drowning in the consequences of his own arrogance, I was standing in the sleek, glass-walled lobby of Universe Group, ready to rebuild my life from the ground up.

The air in the corporate headquarters was a sharp mix of roasted coffee, fresh printer paper, and the faint, underlying pheromones of the werewolf employees bustling around me.

I was led into a minimalist glass interview room overlooking the city. Sitting across the long table were three interviewers, but my eyes immediately locked onto the woman in the center.

Vickie Thorne.

She was from a low-ranking family in the Silver Crescent Pack. Even before I was sent away to the human world as a child, she had harbored a bitter, venomous jealousy toward me. Now, seeing me sitting across from her, her eyes gleamed with undisguised malicious glee.

"Well, well," Vickie sneered, carelessly flipping through my portfolio before tossing it aside. "A rejected Mate. A wolfless disgrace dumped by Alpha Blackwood. Why would Universe Group ever hire a stain on our kind? I bet your degree from the Presal Institute of Art is as fake as your pedigree."

I kept my posture perfectly straight, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch. "My qualifications speak for themselves, Ms. Thorne. Professionalism dictates we focus on the role, not personal grudges."

My calm demeanor only infuriated her more. Her face flushed, and she snatched a thick, blue folder from the table, slamming it down in front of me.

"Fine. Let's test those 'qualifications,'" she spat. "This is a stalled coastal resort project. Construction was halted because the layout disrupted the local Pack's ecosystem, driving their Inner Wolves into a manic frenzy. Solve it. Right now."

She leaned back, crossing her arms, waiting for me to humiliate myself.

I opened the file. I didn't need to analyze the complex human engineering data. Deep within my soul, my hidden White Wolf stirred. The ancient, sacred connection to the Moon Goddess hummed in my veins, allowing me to feel the very pulse of the earth and the tides through the blueprints.

"The current layout blocks the natural ley lines," I said smoothly, tracing a finger over the map. "If we realign the main structures to flow with the tides and channel the moonlight through open-air atriums, it won't just restore the ecosystem. It will create a sanctuary. The architecture itself will resonate with the lunar cycles, naturally soothing a wolf's primal instincts."

The two older werewolf executives sitting beside Vickie leaned in, their eyes wide with absolute fascination. I could literally feel their own Inner Wolves settling, lulled into a state of peace by the mere concept of my design.

"Brilliant," one of the men murmured, looking at me with newfound immense respect. "It breathes with the Pack. You're hired."

"No!" Vickie shrieked, slamming her hands on the table. Her face was twisted in ugly, desperate rage. "She stole this! She probably stole it from some filthy Rogue architect! That's why Blackwood rejected her—she was sent away because she has tainted, Rogue-loving blood!"

The two executives hesitated, the heavy accusation of Rogue association hanging in the air. I took a breath, preparing to tear her lies apart, but I didn't have to.

The heavy glass door swung open.

Instantly, the air in the room grew impossibly heavy, saturated with the commanding, authoritative scent of sun-warmed parchment and cedar. The sheer Alpha aura radiating from the doorway forced the two executives to lower their heads in immediate submission.

Alpha Carter Steele, the acting CEO of Universe Group and my grandfather's most trusted ally, stepped into the room.

He didn't even glance at Vickie. His eyes, warm yet holding an undeniable power, met mine.

"Welcome to Universe Group, Ms. Moon," Carter said, his voice a smooth, resonant baritone that left no room for argument. "Your office is already prepared."

Then, he slowly turned his head toward Vickie. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by an icy, suffocating glare that made her tremble violently in her chair.

"As for you, Ms. Thorne," Carter said, his tone dropping to a lethal whisper. "My office. Now. We need to have a serious discussion about your loyalty to this Pack."