Rejected by the Alpha,Claimed by his Beta

ChapterFive

The pain was a living, breathing entity clawing violently at her from the inside out.

Leila lay tangled in heavy silk sheets, her fragile body trembling as another surge of blinding silver energy rippled just beneath her skin.

She was no longer in the freezing mud of the Blackwood territory. She had been brought to a hidden sanctuary deep within the mountains, a sprawling fortress of ancient white stone and towering stained glass.

Here, she wasn't an outcast. She was treated with absolute, hushed reverence.

Servants with lowered eyes constantly replaced the cold compresses on her forehead. Guards in heavy armor stood absolutely completely still outside her doors, treating her bedroom like a holy temple. Yet, despite the velvet pillows and the bowls of fresh water, Leila was dying.

Her celestial wolf, awakened by the brutal trauma of Kane's rejection, was simply too wild and far too powerful for her frail human body to contain.

It raged against her ribs, destroying her from the inside out with every breath she took.

The doors creaked open, breaking the agonizing silence of the room.

Elder Ronan walked in. He was an older man with sharp, intelligent eyes, draped in the heavy silver robes of a high priest. He carried a wooden bowl filled with crushing herbs, the bitter scent of sage cutting through the metallic smell of Leila’s bleeding gums.

"Drink this, Princess," Ronan murmured, his voice soft but carrying a heavy weight. He knelt beside the massive bed, gently lifting her head to press a clay cup to her cracked lips.

Leila swallowed the bitter liquid, choking slightly. She fell back against the pillows, her chest heaving. She grabbed his wrist, her fingers weak.

"Make it stop," she gasped, her voice barely a rough whisper.

"Please. It’s tearing me apart."

Ronan’s eyes filled with a deep, tragic sorrow. He set the cup down and placed a cool hand over hers.

"I cannot stop the awakening, Leila. No one can," he said quietly, his gaze drifting to the glowing silver mark on her chest that illuminated the dark room.

"Your parents were the Moon King and Queen. You are carrying the purest, most ancient bloodline in our history. But your power has been buried for far too long."

Leila squeezed her eyes shut as another spike of hot agony shot down her spine. Her body arched involuntarily, her fingernails digging violently into the silk mattresses.

Ronan waited until the tremor passed, wiping the cold sweat from her brow with a cloth.

"They murdered your parents in a brutal m******e," Ronan continued, his voice hardening into a blade. He leaned closer, making sure she heard every word.

"The enemies who slaughtered them assumed you died in the ruins of the castle. But they are still out there, Leila. They are still hunting us. They want to take over our kingdom completely, and they will not stop until every trace of your bloodline is erased in ash."

Leila let out a shaky, terrified breath. She had spent her entire life trying to stay invisible. Now, she was expected to lead a war.

"I can't," she sobbed, staring at the high vaulted ceiling. "I'm just an omega. I can't even stand up."

"You are their only hope," Ronan insisted, his grip on her hand tightening with desperate urgency. "To save your people and take your rightful place on the throne, you must access your full potential. But the issue remains... you cannot control your inner wolf. It is eating you alive."

The next week was a blur of excruciating agony and chaotic, desperate rituals.

The sanctuary brought in their most elite healers. When they failed, Elder Ronan secretly summoned powerful priests from outside packs, men and women who specialized in spirit-binding and magical containment.

They drew complex chalk runes on the stone floor of Leila’s chambers. They burned rare incense that made the air thick and hard to breathe. They chanted ancient verses for hours, surrounding her bed with glowing crystals, trying desperately to guide her power and stabilize her violently fractured soul.

It was completely useless.

Every single attempt ended in disaster. The moment a priest tried to mentally reach out and soothe the beast inside her, Leila’s celestial wolf would viciously lash out.

The sheer dominance of her inner wolf shattered their spells instantly, blowing out the windows of the chamber and throwing the priests against the stone walls.

Her power refused to be caged. It refused to be guided. It was too dominant, too angry, and far too vast for any normal wolf to handle.

By the seventh night, Leila lay completely still, staring blankly at the stone ceiling. Her veins glowed with a faint, toxic silver hue.

Her breathing was dangerously shallow. She knew she only had a few days left before her heart simply gave out.

The doors opened again. The room was empty of healers now. It was just Elder Ronan.

He walked slowly to the foot of her bed, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. The absolute grimness in his expression made Leila’s stomach drop.

"They all failed," Leila whispered, turning her head weakly to look at him. "I'm going to die here, aren't I?"

Ronan let out a long, heavy sigh. He walked around the edge of the mattress and sat heavily in the wooden chair beside her. For a long moment, the only sound in the massive room was the harsh, ragged rasp of Leila’s failing lungs.

"Your wolf is a celestial entity, Leila," Ronan finally spoke, his voice entirely devoid of hope. "It requires an anchor of equal, terrifying magnitude. A normal priest cannot tame it. A regular spell cannot hold it. It requires a bond forged by the Goddess herself."

Leila frowned, her mind sluggish through the haze of the pain. "What are you talking about?"

Ronan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked directly into her tired, bloodshot eyes.

"The fated bond," Ronan revealed, the words dropping like heavy stones into the quiet room. "Even though it was severed, the echo of that destiny remains inside your soul. It is the only tether strong enough to anchor your power so you can control it."

A cold, paralyzing dread washed over Leila’s body. The glowing silver light beneath her skin actually flickered in response to her sudden, rising terror.

She violently shook her head, ignoring the fresh wave of agony it caused. "No. No, absolutely not. The rejection is what caused this."

"The rejection broke the seal," Ronan corrected gently but firmly. "But the mate himself is the only one who can ground you. For you to be able to control this power, you need him."

"I won't do it," Leila choked out, hot tears immediately spilling over her cheeks. The memory of Kane standing on the platform, his eyes full of pure disgust as he ordered her thrown out like garbage, burned vividly in her mind. "I would rather die right here in this bed."

"If you die, the Moon Kingdom falls," Ronan stated brutally, stripping away any comfort. "Our people will be slaughtered. The enemies will take everything. You are the rightful Queen. You cannot afford to die."

Leila clamped her hands over her face, sobbing hysterically into the quiet room. Her chest heaved, every breath slicing like a razor blade against her ruined ribs.

Ronan stood up, his face lined with deep sympathy but completely unyielding in his resolve. He looked down at the broken, crying girl who held the fate of an entire kingdom in her trembling hands.

"You must survive, Princess," Ronan commanded softly. "And to do that, you must go back. You have to return to the Blackwood pack, and you must seek the help of Alpha Kane."