She Is A Lycan Queen

The Final Rejection

The stone beneath Paige’s body was cold and unyielding, a sharp contrast to the fire that once lived in her chest. That fire,born of love, of loyalty had dimmed to flickering embers in the dungeon’s suffocating darkness.

She didn’t know how long she’d been down here. Time passed differently in the shadows. Hours bled into days, or maybe days into weeks. All she knew was hunger, silence, and the echo of her own thoughts.

She curled tighter into herself, trying to ignore the dull ache in her lower abdomen and the biting pain of old shackles around her wrists. Her wolf whimpered inside her, wounded and restless. Not because of the chains, but because of what they symbolized. Rejection. Isolation. A betrayal that cut deeper than silver ever could.

Her hand drifted to her belly, the smallest bump forming beneath her torn tunic. Her baby. The only reason she hadn’t completely unraveled. She whispered to it often in the dark, her voice barely audible. “You’re the only thing keeping me going.”

But even that comfort was laced with fear.

Would her child be hunted too? Rejected by the pack before it even had a name?

She clenched her jaw and stared at the faint torchlight that flickered at the far end of the corridor. Her thoughts drifted backward—to when her life had first started to unravel.

⸺

She had been six when the orphanage wolves found her wandering outside pack territory. Lost, thin, covered in bruises from a home that had long since stopped being safe. No one had come looking for her. No family. No name. Just a small, frightened girl with wide eyes and a voice she rarely used.

For years, she watched others get adopted while she remained. Too quiet, too strange. Her wolf had been late to surface, marking her as weak. But she had always held on. Until the day Bobby came.

He wasn’t an Alpha yet, but even then, he had that presence. Confidence wrapped in a charming smile. He saw her. Really saw her. He called her “mine” before the pack did. And when she bloomed under his affection, he told her she was meant to stand beside him. Meant to rule.

She had believed him. Every word.

Now she could barely recall what that version of Bobby looked like.

⸺

The door groaned open. She didn’t lift her head at first, thinking it was another guard with stale bread and a sneer. But the energy that entered was different. Familiar. Commanding.

Bobby.

Paige lifted her eyes slowly, heart thudding. He stepped into the torchlight, arms folded behind his back, two guards flanking him like loyal shadows. His hair was combed, clothes were immaculate. He looked like the Alpha she had once adored. But the warmth,the soul was gone.

“Bobby,” she croaked, voice raw from disuse.

He said nothing for a moment. Just stared. His eyes scanned her face, her trembling limbs, her swollen belly. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw doubt flicker in his gaze.

Then it was gone.

“I came to make things official,” he said coldly.

Paige swallowed. “You think I poisoned you. But you know me. You know I’d never…”

“I don’t know you,” he interrupted.

That hurt more than she’d expected. She sat up straighter, wincing from the pain in her side. “You’re just saying what she wants you to. Victoria—she framed me.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re a threat to my pack. That’s all that matters.”

She let the silence hang, searching his face for any trace of the man she had once loved.

“I’m carrying your child,” she whispered. “You’d throw us both away?”

He hesitated. A flicker of emotion crossed his face—guilt, maybe, or confusion but he buried it.

“The child has a chance,” he said. “But not with you.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back. “I gave you everything. You made me your mate. You told me I was your future.”

“You were a placeholder,” he said quietly, the words laced with cruel finality. “Victoria is my Luna. You never were.”

The rejection hit like a slap to her soul. Her wolf howled inside her, clawing against the truth. Paige doubled over slightly as pain bloomed in her chest—real, tearing pain.

She gasped. “What… what are you doing?”

“Severing the bond,” Bobby said flatly.

Her mark—the one he placed on her neck the night he claimed her, burned with white-hot agony. Then it went cold. Dead. Gone.

Tears streamed down her face now. Not because of the pain, but because of the loss.

The bond was broken.

“You’re no longer one of us,” Bobby said. “The guards will escort you to the border. You’re exiled. Effective immediately.”

“Bobby,” she whispered, falling to her knees, “please.”

But he had already turned away.

____

The guards didn’t speak as they dragged her through the snow-laced forest, tossing her torn pack clothes at her feet once they crossed the territorial line. Her bare feet sank into the frozen dirt, knees buckling beneath her. Her strength was gone.

“You step back on pack land, we won’t be gentle,” one said before disappearing into the trees.

Paige lay there for a while, listening to the wind whistle between the pines. Her body ached. Her heart felt like a hollow cave. Her wolf was silent—mourning.

And still, she moved.

She pressed her hand against her belly again. Her child needed her alive. So she crawled. Then she stumbled. Then she walked.

The forest grew darker the farther she went. The sky overhead was turning silver-blue, stars fading with the promise of dawn. Her breath came in ragged bursts, blood trickling down her legs from torn skin. Her wolf wanted to shift, to run, but she didn’t have the strength.

Then—voices.

Male. Aggressive.

She ducked behind a cluster of rocks, heart pounding. Just ahead, in a small clearing surrounded by snow-laden trees, three rogues circled a man.

He was tall, bloodied, and on his knees. Chains glinted in the moonlight, binding his arms behind his back. His shirt was ripped open, exposing bruises and a deep gash across his collarbone. Still, he didn’t bow. His head was high, jaw clenched, eyes icy.

The rogues laughed and jeered. One kicked him in the ribs. Another raised a blade.

Paige didn’t think.

With a feral growl, she burst from her cover, charging into the clearing. Her wolf flared inside her, adrenaline overriding pain.

“Get away from him!” she shouted.

The rogues turned, surprised. But she was already on them.

She tackled the one with the blade, slamming his head into the frozen earth. Another lunged, but she ducked, grabbed a nearby branch, and swung hard.

The third rogue backed away. “Crazy b***h,who are you?”

She didn’t answer. She stepped in front of the bound man, chest heaving, blood in her mouth.

The man behind her stirred, and for the first time, spoke.

His voice was low, deep, and calm. “You’re hurt.”

She turned halfway toward him, not daring to look away from the rogues. “I’ve had worse.”

His eyes—crystalline blue, glowing faintly met hers.

“You don’t even know who I am,” he said softly.

“No,” she replied, lips cracked and trembling. “But I couldn’t watch them kill you.”

A pause.

Then he smiled, slow and dangerous.

“You just risked your life for a prince.”