The Alpha’s Rejected Secret

Ghosts Of The Past

The morning mist clung to the pine needle covered ground of the Crescent Moon territory, thick and suffocating.

Standing on the grand balcony of the Alpha Estate, Alpha Damon Knight stared out over his lands. At twenty-eight, he looked every bit the feared ruler the rumors claimed. Broad shouldered, sharp jawed, and wearing a tailored charcoal suit that barely contained his muscular frame, he radiated pure, dominant power. Yet, behind his dark, brooding eyes, a hollow void burned.

Five years. It had been five years since the night he made the single biggest mistake of his life.

His inner wolf, Brutus, growled low in his mind, shifting restlessly beneath his skin. She was ours. You threw her away for duty, and now the pack bleeds for it.

Silence, Damon commanded internally, though the sharp pang in his chest made the order weak.

Every day since Ava had vanished into the rainy night after he rejected her, the mate bond had rotted inside him. He had thought doing his duty to the pack marrying Lady Freya, the daughter of a powerful high ranking elder would secure Crescent Moon’s future. It had done the exact opposite.

The union was a cold, lifeless business arrangement. Freya cared only for status and luxury, while Damon spent his nights buried in pack business or searching for a trace of the girl he had broken. To make matters worse, the ancient Lycan bloodline that flowed through his family was stalling. Four years of marriage, and Freya had failed to produce an heir. The pack elders were growing restless, whispering behind closed doors about an unfruitful Alpha line.

"Still staring at the fog like a brooding teenager?"

Freya’s cold, dripping with sarcasm voice broke the silence. She stepped onto the balcony, clad in a silk robe, a glass of mimosa in hand. Her blonde hair was pinned flawlessly, but her eyes held a constant, sharp bitterness.

"The regional Alphas begin arriving at noon," Damon said, not bother to look at her. His voice was a flat, icy baritone. "Make sure the staff has the grand hall ready."

"The staff knows their jobs, Damon," she snapped, taking a sip of her drink. "Unlike you, who seems more focused on spending millions sending pack scouts into human cities for some phantom ghost. Do you think I'm stupid? I know you're still looking for her."

Damon turned slowly, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a pressure so intense Freya instinctively took half a step back. "My budget decisions do not concern you, Freya. Ensure the host duties are fulfilled today. That is your only role."

"My role would be much clearer if you actually treated me like your Luna!" she hissed, her face contorting in anger. "You barely sleep in the same room. The elders are demanding an heir, Damon! How do you expect me to give you a child when you won't even touch me?"

"Because every time I look at you," Damon said softly, his voice deadlier than a roar, "I am reminded of the compromise that cost me my soul. Now get out."

Freya glared at him, her chest heaving with fury, before turning on her heel and storming off the balcony, slamming the glass door behind her.

Damon turned back to the view, rubbing his temples as a low headache throbbed behind his eyes.

A quiet knock sounded at his office door.

"Enter," Damon called out.

Jax, his Beta and lifelong best friend, stepped inside holding a thick leather folder. Unlike Damon, Jax wore a relaxed expression, though his eyes carried the weight of the upcoming Summit.

"The border patrols are fully manned," Jax reported, placing the file on the mahogany desk. "Alpha Marcus of the Bloodmoon Pack just crossed the southern checkpoint. The rest of the regional leaders will be here within two hours."

Damon nodded grimly. "Good."

Jax hesitated, remaining by the desk instead of taking his leave. He looked at Damon, a subtle flash of sympathy crossing his face. "The scout team returned from the northern sector this morning, Alpha. They searched the human hubs in Sector 4."

Damon’s posture went rigid. "And?"

"Nothing," Jax said gently. "No scent trails, no hospital records matching her vitals, no whispers in the underground shifter networks. Damon... it’s been five years. The shattered bond alone usually kills an unranked wolf within months. You have to prepare yourself for the fact that Ava might be”.

"She isn't dead," Damon growled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of his desk. The wood groaned under his immense strength. "I would have felt the final severing of the soul thread. She is alive out there. Hiding from me."

"And if she is?" Jax asked quietly. "If she survived, she hates you. You rejected her in front of the entire council. You let Freya’s father threaten her family until she ran. If you find her, what do you expect her to do? Fall into your arms?"

"I don't expect her to forgive me," Damon murmured, looking down at his desk. Tucked under his blotter was a small, worn silver ribbon Ava had dropped five years ago. "I just need to know she is breathing. I need to make right what I broke."

Jax sighed, placing a hand on his Alpha's shoulder. "Then pull yourself together for this Summit. The other Alphas are blood hungry. They know we don't have an heir, and they’ll be looking for any sign of weakness in Crescent Moon. You need to show them why you are the top Alpha in this region."

Damon took a deep, steadying breath, suppressing the agonizing ache of the mate bond. He straightened his tie and nodded. "Let them come."

Down at the main gates, a sleek black SUV bearing the crest of the Bloodmoon Pack pulled up to the security checkpoint. Inside, Alpha Marcus watched the heavily armed Crescent Moon guards inspect his credentials.

Marcus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper a note Ava had handed him right before he left Blackwood.

If Damon asks about the southern borders, the note read in Ava's sharp, elegant handwriting, tell him Bloodmoon stands alone. Do not let him look south.

Marcus folded the paper back up and pocketed it, his jaw tight. Looking up at the towering spires of the Alpha Estate, he felt the heavy, suffocating aura of Damon Knight looming over the territory.

You have no idea what you threw away, Alpha Knight, Marcus thought as the security gates swung open. And if I have anything to say about it, you’ll never find out.