Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Royal Wolf

Chapter 2

Mia

As Luke carried me away from the bonfire, Ray’s furious roar chased us into the shadows.

"Luke! If you take one more step, you are no longer my guard!"

Luke didn't break his stride. His back was broad and unyielding, the cold metal of his armor pressing against my cheek, shocking me into a painful lucidity. I rested my chin on his shoulder and peered back. Ray was still on the altar, leaning heavily against Ivy, his face contorted in disbelief and rage.

He wasn't angry about losing me. He was angry that his prized weapon had just defied him.

As we approached the border gates, two heavily armed guards moved to block the path.

Luke didn't draw his weapon. He just stared them down and growled a single word: "Move."

The guards hesitated, glancing nervously toward the distant altar. Ray hadn't officially taken the Alpha title yet; his orders were still subordinate to the current Alpha. And Alpha Carlton, who had watched the entire spectacle from his high seat, hadn't issued a command to stop us.

That was the true cruelty of Ash Harbor. They were perfectly content to let me die, but none of them wanted the blood of a rejected Omega explicitly on their hands.

Luke carried me past the gates and plunged into the thick northern woods. The moonlight filtered through the canopy, catching the silver-grey Carlton crest on his shoulder pad. Without a word, he reached up, ripped the emblem off his armor, and tossed it into the mud.

The sound of the tearing fabric echoed the relentless, ripping pain in my chest.

"Don't throw away your position for me," I managed to choke out, the metallic taste of blood still heavy on my tongue.

Luke kept walking, his eyes fixed on the dark path ahead. "I didn't throw it away for you. I just refuse to kneel for a coward anymore."

His words settled over me, heavy and complicated.

Deep in the woods sat an abandoned hunter’s cabin, a former patrol outpost left to rot because it was too close to rogue territory. Luke kicked the door open, laid me gently on a dusty wooden cot, and immediately got to work. He started a fire in the hearth, then pulled a leather satchel from the corner.

My blurry eyes focused on the contents he spilled onto the table: medicinal powders, clean bandages, a silver dagger, dried meat, and a map of the borderlands.

He had packed a go-bag.

A new kind of chill seeped into my bones, overriding the physical pain. "You... you knew he was going to reject me?"

Luke paused as he uncorked a waterskin. He didn't look at me. "I overheard him talking to Ivy yesterday."

A hollow, broken laugh escaped my throat. "What did he say?"

Luke’s jaw ticked. Finally, he met my gaze. "He said that if the Moon Goddess really cursed him with you, he would reject you in front of the entire pack. He wanted to make an example out of you, to show the Omegas they shouldn't dream above their station."

My stomach rolled violently. I clamped a hand over my mouth as another wave of blood rushed up my esophagus. I spat it onto the dirt floor, gasping for air.

Luke rushed to my side, supporting my back as he pressed the waterskin to my lips. "Don't tear your wounds open for him."

I shoved the water away, my hands shaking. I stared at his stoic face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

It was an unfair accusation. I had no right to blame Luke. But in that moment, the betrayal was suffocating, and I needed somewhere to direct the pain.

Luke didn't defend himself. "I tried," he said quietly. "I went to the healing house to find you. The elders had placed guards at the door. Then Ray suddenly ordered me to the southern patrol. I didn't make it back until the ceremony had already started."

The memory clicked into place. Late in the afternoon, the elder had visited me personally. He had handed me the white dress, claiming it was tradition.

They all knew. The entire pack leadership had known. They dressed me up like a sacrificial lamb, ensuring I stood in the center of the altar so Ray could cleanly, publicly execute my dignity.

I gripped the edge of the wooden cot, my knuckles turning white as a fresh wave of agony ripped through my nervous system. With the mate bond severed, my inner wolf had vanished. I reached for her, calling out in the dark expanse of my mind.

Nothing. Not a whisper.

Panic, cold and sharp, gripped my throat. For a werewolf, losing connection to their wolf meant losing the ability to shift, to heal, to survive. An Omega without a wolf in the borderlands was a walking corpse.

Sensing my spiraling panic, Luke placed a firm, warm hand on my shoulder. "Mia, listen to me. Your wolf is still there. The first night after a rejection is the hardest. If you survive tonight, you have a chance."

"How do you know that?" I gasped, shivering uncontrollably.

"My mother was rejected."

It was the first time I had ever heard him mention his family. The pack rumors claimed Luke was a nameless orphan Alpha Carlton had picked up and forged into a weapon for his son.

"Did she survive?" I whispered.

Luke’s dark eyes clouded over. "No."

The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the small cabin.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sweat pouring down my forehead. The scent of Ray’s cedar, once comforting, morphed in my memory into a suffocating, rotting stench. My body was at war with itself—my physical instincts screaming for the mate who had severed the bond, while my mind recoiled in disgust.

That was the true malice of the mate bond's backlash. It punished the victim just as ruthlessly as the perpetrator.

By midnight, a severe fever took hold. The full moon was approaching, a time when a newly mated wolf’s body naturally craved the bond’s completion. Having it violently severed left my system in chaotic freefall.

Luke soaked a rag in cold water and placed it on my forehead. He sat on the floor beside the cot, refusing to leave my side for a single second. I lost consciousness several times, swallowed by excruciating pain, but every time I dragged my eyes open, he was there.

By dawn, dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes, and bloody crescent moons marked the back of his hand where my nails had dug in during my fever-induced spasms.

Just as the first light filtered through the broken window, a howl echoed in the distance.

Ash Harbor’s tracking unit.

Did Ray regret it? The pathetic, instinctual thought sparked in my mind, but I instantly crushed it.

No. He wasn't coming for me. He was coming to arrest his rogue guard, and to check if his trash had conveniently died in the woods yet.

Luke stood up, his hand dropping to the hilt of his silver dagger. He moved to the door.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up. My vision swam dangerously, and black spots danced across my eyes, but I swung my legs over the edge of the cot.

"I'm coming with you," I rasped.

"You can barely stand," Luke said, his voice tight with concern.

"Then let me lean on you." I grabbed the stone wall, hauling my battered body upright. "I've let them watch me bleed enough for one lifetime. I am not going to lie down and let them decide how I die."

Luke’s jaw clenched. He stepped forward, draped his heavy winter cloak over my trembling shoulders, and wrapped a strong arm around my waist, supporting my weight.

The moment we stepped out of the cabin, three Ash Harbor warriors emerged from the tree line.

Leading them was Mason, Ray’s Beta cousin. A cruel, arrogant smirk twisted his face as his eyes darted between us.

"The future Alpha orders you to return," Mason sneered. "Luke, get on your knees and beg for mercy. He might let you keep your head. As for Mia, she’s to be escorted straight to the quarantine ward. Can't have an Omega's tainted, un-mated stench polluting the pack grounds."

Luke drew his dagger, the metal singing a deadly note in the crisp morning air.

Mason tilted his chin up, his eyes flashing yellow. "You’d draw a blade on your own pack? Ray isn't protecting you anymore, stray."

I leaned heavily against a pine tree, swiping a smear of dried blood from my mouth. "Mason," I said, my voice hoarse but steady. "Go back and tell Ray I am not returning. If he wants to see if I'm dead, tell him to crawl here on his knees and find out for himself."

Mason’s smirk vanished, replaced by an ugly scowl. "An Omega w***e dares to threaten the Alpha?"

He lunged for me.

Luke moved like lightning, stepping between us with his blade raised.

But before steel could clash against steel, the heavy thud of boots crunching on snow echoed through the forest. Another squad of warriors stepped out of the morning mist.

The Iron Ridge border patrol.

Their Alpha, Adrian, was the youngest Alpha in the North, and the Iron Ridge pack was a military powerhouse Ash Harbor avoided at all costs.

The lead female warrior, tall and scarred, looked at Luke’s drawn blade, then at the blood soaking my dress.

"You've crossed into Iron Ridge territory," she stated, her voice booming with authority. "Whoever strikes the first blow will be treated as an invader."

Mason froze, his wolf shrinking back from the threat of an inter-pack war. He gritted his teeth, slowly backing away. Before he turned around, he reached into his pocket and tossed a small, black bone talisman onto the snow at my feet.

An exile token.

"Mia Vale," Mason spat. "As of this moment, you are banished from Ash Harbor. When you die out here, don't expect to be buried in our soil."

I stared at the black token. My fingers shook as I reached down to pick it up. I didn't throw it back at him.

I slipped it into my pocket.

One day, I would walk back into Ash Harbor with this token. Not to beg for sanctuary. But to make them realize they had exiled their own salvation, and birthed their worst nightmare.