The Alpha's Regret: His Defiant Mate

Seraphina POV

The evening rain lashed against the tall glass panes of the manor's front hall. I stood in the center of the room, my hands folded neatly before me.

My father paced back and forth across the thick wool rug. His heavy boots left damp, dark impressions on the fibers.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" he finally shouted, stopping to glare at me. "To reject an Alpha before our entire household!"

I kept my face a perfect, placid mask.

"The Moon Goddess herself stayed my tongue, Father," I said, my voice smooth as silk. "She sent me a vision. I saw blood on the snow. I saw our Pack torn asunder by a forced union. I saw my own corpse rotting in a dungeon while this house celebrated."

My father stopped pacing. His anger flickered, uncertainty creeping into his eyes. He was a wolf of the old ways. He could not openly dismiss a claim of divine intervention without risking the Goddess's wrath.

"A vision?" he muttered.

"Yes," I continued, pressing my advantage. "Consider this. Alpha Xander came to claim a mate, but did he ever explicitly announce who among us would bear the title of Luna?"

My father blinked.

It was a massive loophole in the edifice of Pack law. An Alpha could have a mate, but the title of Luna was a political rank, not a romantic one.

"He expects me to warm his bed while another holds the power," I said coldly.

I turned to look at Celestine, who was cowering near the fireplace. "Sister," I called out.

She jumped, her hands clutching her silk shawl as if it were a shield.

"Do you dare swear an oath to the Moon Goddess, here and now?" I asked, stepping toward her. "Do you dare to swear that you are prepared to endure the rut of a high-ranking Alpha?"

Celestine's face drained of all color. She knew the stories. An Alpha's mating heat was a thing of violence, a feral, uncontrollable storm. A weak Omega like her could be broken by it.

I knew, with the certainty of divine prophecy, that she had dreamed of the Alpha's prestige but never considered the cost. And I knew, with equal certainty, that she would have let me pay that cost in her place.

She shook her head, unable to form a single word.

I turned back to my father and pulled a heavy, leather-bound book from a concealed pocket in my gown. I slammed it onto the oak table.

"The Ancient Pack Codex," I said. "I transcribed the exact passages last night. Section four, line twelve."

I tapped the page. "A rejection before the Marking is lawful. Furthermore, the soul's rejection causes severe physical weakness. I am unfit to mate."

Before my father could read the text, the heavy front doors swung open.

A tall, muscular man stepped inside, shaking the rain from his dark coat. It was Xander's Gamma, the third-in-command of the Silver Moon Pack. He carried a large wooden box under his arm.

He did not bow to my father. He just smirked, his posture dripping with a calculated arrogance.

"Alpha Xander sends gifts to calm the nerves of his future mate," the Gamma said, his voice smooth and condescending. He set the box on the table and flipped open the lid.

Inside sat rare herbs and expensive silks. It looked less like a gift and more like alms given to beggars.

"The Alpha understands that lower-ranking wolves can be easily frightened," the Gamma sneered. He looked at Celestine, then at me. "Once you both relocate to our territory, things will be simple. One of you will manage the exhausting Pack duties, and the other can just sit pretty and enjoy the Alpha's protection."

My blood ran cold.

The words struck like a physical blow—not because they were surprising, but because they were the exact words the Goddess had whispered in my dream. A confirmation so precise it made my hands tremble.

They viewed us as objects, as tools to be used and discarded. Even my father stiffened at the flagrant insult.

I stepped slowly toward the Gamma. I let my control slip, just a fraction.

Deep within my veins, something ancient stirred—a power the Moon Goddess had revealed to me in my vision, a White Wolf bloodline that had slumbered in my family's blood for seven generations, waiting for the one who would need it most. Guided by the iron discipline of a master healer, I did not panic. I channeled that freezing, ancient energy, letting it seep into the room, not as a wave, but as a change in the very substance of the air.

A frigid, terrifying pressure radiated from me. The ambient temperature in the hall plummeted.

The Gamma's smirk vanished. His eyes widened as his inner wolf sensed a predator far older and far deadlier than an ordinary Alpha.

"Take your trinkets back," I whispered, my voice echoing with an unnatural chill. "Tell your Alpha that if he forces this Mating Ceremony, I will gladly die on his altar."

I leaned in closer, my eyes locking onto his. "And by sunrise, every wolf from his main house to his farthest border sentinel will know that the great Alpha Xander killed his mate because he could not earn her submission."

The Gamma swallowed hard. He took a clumsy step backward, his boots slipping on the wet floor. He grabbed the box, uttered not another word, and practically fled through the door.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind him.

My father stared at me, his mouth slightly agape. He had felt the cold aura, too. He was beginning to realize I was not the quiet, obedient daughter he thought he knew.

"Fine," my father said, rubbing his temples. "I will summon the Pack Doctor. If he confirms you are physically unfit, we will delay the ceremony."

I nodded slowly.

I had bought myself some time. But I knew, with cold certainty, that the true test was only beginning.

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