Left to Die by My Mate, I Ruled the Lycans

My hands flew to my stomach, fingers digging into the fabric of my nightgown. No blood. No tearing flesh. The phantom agony of the rogue wolf’s claws still burned against my skin, but my belly was perfectly flat. I gasped for air, staring at the familiar peeling wallpaper of my childhood bedroom. The digital clock on the nightstand glowed red: 8:00 PM. My eighteenth birthday. The night of the Awakening Ceremony. I stumbled out of bed, my knees hitting the wooden floor. I wasn't dead in that muddy alley. I wasn't watching Kaelen, the Crescent Pack's future Alpha, carry his chosen mate to safety while my unborn child and I were ripped to shreds by rogues. The Moon Goddess had spun the wheel of time backward. A heavy, intoxicating scent drifted through the cracked window—pine needles and impending rain. It was a scent that once made my heart flutter with pathetic hope. Now, it just made me want to vomit. Kaelen Cross. My fated mate. The man who had left me to die. I stripped off the frilly white sundress I had laid out the night before—the one I wore in my past life to look sweet and submissive for him. Instead, I pulled on a pair of worn black combat boots and a dark leather jacket. When I pushed open the heavy oak doors to the pack square, the bonfire was already roaring. Hundreds of Crescent Pack members milled about, their laughter carrying into the crisp autumn air. The moment my boots crunched on the gravel, the chatter died down. "Look who it is. The pack runt," a warrior muttered, not bothering to lower his voice. "Eighteen and still hasn't shifted. What a disgrace." I kept my spine straight, ignoring the sneers. My eyes locked onto the center of the square. Kaelen stood there, broad-shouldered and exuding raw Alpha dominance. Beside him, clinging to his bicep like a prized accessory, was Elara. Then, it happened. The wind shifted. Kaelen froze. His head snapped toward me, his amber eyes flaring with the unmistakable golden glow of his wolf. The invisible thread of the mate bond snapped into place, tethering my chest to his. Mate. The word echoed in the silence of the square. Elara’s smile tightened. She dug her manicured nails into Kaelen's arm, her eyes narrowing as she sensed the shift in the air. In my past life, I had fallen to my knees, weeping with joy that the great Alpha was my fated mate, ignoring his look of absolute disgust. I had spent years brewing his medicines, taking his verbal abuse, just for crumbs of his affection. Not this time. Kaelen’s jaw clenched. He looked at me like I was a piece of trash stuck to his expensive boots. He didn't step forward. He waited, fully expecting me to crawl to him and beg for his acceptance. I walked toward him, my steps slow and deliberate. The pack held its collective breath. Stopping two feet away from him, I met his golden gaze without flinching. "Kaelen," I said, my voice steady, carrying over the crackling bonfire. He crossed his arms, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "If you think I'm going to accept a weak, wolfless runt as my Luna, you are dead wrong, Lyra. You will step aside, and Elara will take your place." My lips curved into a cold smile. I didn't wait for his permission. "I, Lyra Blackwood," I declared, my voice ringing out like a judge's gavel, "reject you, Kaelen Cross, future Alpha of the Crescent Pack, as my fated mate." A collective gasp ripped through the crowd. Someone dropped a glass bottle; it shattered violently against the rocks. Elara’s jaw dropped. Kaelen’s smirk vanished, replaced by a violent storm of confusion and rage. His chest heaved, his Alpha aura pressing down on the square, forcing weaker wolves to their knees. But I remained standing. He closed the distance between us, his fingers clamping down on my wrist like a steel vice. The mate bond screamed in protest, burning my skin, but I didn't break eye contact. "What kind of pathetic game is this?" he snarled, his breath fanning my face. "You think playing hard to get will make me want you? You're a joke, Lyra." "Let go of me," I commanded, my tone turning to ice. "No," Kaelen hissed, his pride bleeding into madness. "I refuse your rejection. You don't get to walk away from me to save face. You belong to me, runt." The bond pulsed, thick and suffocating. Because he refused, the tether didn't break. It wrapped around us, toxic and festering. I yanked my arm out of his grasp, stepping back into the shadows. Let him keep the rusted chains; I was already breaking free. "You can refuse the rejection, Alpha," I whispered, the words cutting through the tension, "but you can never chain a ghost." Deep within my veins, beneath the dormant blood of a runt, a strange, freezing power began to stir—a beast far older and deadlier than any Crescent wolf.