Rejected by the Alpha Who Claimed Me

Karter’s call came through immediately. I could sense his excitement, knowing how werewolves often act impulsively when adrenaline surges through them. Choosing not to answer, I mind-linked him instead, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

*Focus on the business trip. Securing top-tier equipment for the pack’s healing center is crucial.*

His reply was instant, his voice warm and reassuring through the mind link.

*Got it! Can’t wait to be back home with you, Amaya.*

His words made me chuckle, though tears unexpectedly began to roll down my cheeks like scattered beads. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, a faint echo of the pain I was trying to bury.

After the breakup, I didn’t return to the Crimson Fang Pack’s territory; instead, I chose to stay at a hotel in neutral grounds, far from the pack’s scent markers. That night, sleep was restless, haunted by dreams in which Ashton oscillated between being a savior and a tormentor.

We were childhood friends, our families both holding high ranks in our respective packs. Our parents hoped we’d end up together, strengthening the ties between the Crimson Fang Pack and my former pack, the Shadowclaw Pack. As adults, we fell in love, and the Moon Goddess blessed us as mates. But then tragedy struck—an attack by rogues claimed my parents’ lives, leaving me an orphan and our pack in disarray.

Despite our mate bond and the marking ceremony, Ashton’s parents, especially his mother, Lillian Lee, the former Luna of the Crimson Fang Pack, refused to acknowledge me. Yet back then, Ashton was solely focused on me. He even argued fiercely with his parents to be with me, his alpha tone shaking the packhouse walls. The loss of my parents caused me to withdraw, making me fearful of connections and prone to depression, making it hard to communicate with strangers, let alone other pack members.

Ashton remained by my side, tirelessly trying to cheer me up. I was touched, convinced we were destined to be together forever.

Midway through the dream, the scenes shifted rapidly. Ashton, with Colette Adams, the Delta warrior who had caught his eye during a pack celebration, cornered me against a wall, hurling degrading words. His parents barged in, his mother’s voice sharp and cold as she berated me for my supposed shamelessness. I awoke in a panic, gasping for air, my wolf growling in distress.

Outside, a torrential downpour was accompanied by booming thunder. I touched my forehead, realizing I had a fever, a rare vulnerability for a werewolf. My phone’s notification light blinked. It was another text from Colette, flaunting provocative selfies taken in what used to be our den. I tossed the phone aside and hid under the covers, my wolf curling up in misery.

I don’t know how long I was trapped in my feverish haze before Karter’s mind link stirred me.

*Amaya, I miss you so much. It’ll be another week before I can come home…*

His voice, deep and reassuring, coaxed a weak laugh from me. But when I responded, my raspy voice surprised us both.

Not wanting him to worry, I lied, saying it was just a cold and I had already scheduled an appointment with the pack healer. Karter breathed a sigh of relief, reminding me repeatedly to take care before ending the mind link.

Worried he might contact the Silver Moon Pack’s healer to check, I forced myself out of bed. I got a cab and headed for the hospital, a human-run facility where I wouldn’t be recognized by pack members.

Arriving at the emergency room, drenched from the rain, I was suddenly blocked in the hallway by a group of stylishly dressed girls. They held up a live-streaming camera, jeering:

“We’re Colette’s friends; come and see the homewrecker who threatened our Colette’s relationship! Let’s give her the attention she deserves!”

They shoved and taunted, their human voices grating against my heightened senses. I clutched my soaked clothes, curling up in the corner, struggling to breathe, my wolf growling in frustration.

“Remember this face, folks! Keep your men away from this temptress!”

One of them grabbed my chin, thrusting the camera in my face. I frantically waved my hands, biting my lip in humiliation, my wolf’s growls growing louder in my mind.

"You think you’re something special? Everything we’ve said is true!"

"Colette’s way too nice to deal with you herself; we’ll teach you a lesson for her!"

They tugged at my clothes, and I desperately tried to shield myself, shaking my head in panic. Looking around for help, I saw a crowd of onlookers, entertained by the spectacle, their scents a chaotic mix of amusement and indifference.

In my despair, Ashton appeared. Bathed in the harsh fluorescent light, he approached me like a savior, his alpha aura commanding the room. My heart leapt with relief, and I whimpered, “Alpha Ashton… help me…”

But he just shot me a cold glance and shielded the silently crying Colette, his arm around her possessively.

“Amaya Ross, do you have to make a spectacle? She just had heart surgery!”

The bitterness in my throat was reminiscent of the day his mother, Lillian Lee, had slapped me in front of the entire pack. I shrank back into the corner, trembling, clutching myself, my wolf howling in silent agony.