Rejected By the Disabled Alpha

Chapter 3

I didn't dare say anything but my heart plummeted as realization dawned.

Another alpha. Another man within just a short time.

Oh goddess just tell me you wanted me dead from rejection.

My hands were already shaking as I tried to clench them, hopefully I don't piss my pants.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as a blade. His eyes raked over me with that of disdain. “They sent you?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat.

“Alpha,” William began, but Cyrus cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Leave us.”

The beta hesitated before bowing and exiting the room, leaving me alone with Cyrus.

“Take off the hood,” he ordered.

I hesitated before pulling back the hood of my coat, revealing my face.

His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward slightly. “You’re nothing like your sister. Your father must think I am stupid not to know that you aren't Mara.” He took his cane, walked towards the table and poured himself some wine. His muscles flexed and I saw the tattoos on his forearm.“I heard your so-called sister, the real Mara, was getting married to the prince of your pack.”

I bit my lips not replying.

He scoffed. “Did they think I wouldn’t notice the substitution?”

I flinched at the venom in his tone but forced myself to meet his gaze. “I didn’t ask for this,” I said quietly.

“No,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “I’m sure you didn’t. But here you are, anyway, meaning you have something to gain. Like daughter like father. Selfish and greedy.”

I wanted to scream, to tell him this wasn’t my choice, that I was just as much a victim in this as he was.

But the words wouldn’t come.

He scoffed, “This is what they send me? A bastard omega from the Crescent Moon Pack? Pathetic.”

His words cut deep, but I refused to let him see how much they hurt.

“This union isn’t for you or me,” I said finally, my voice trembling slightly. “It’s for the packs. For the alliance.”

He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Don’t fool yourself. You’re nothing more than a pawn in their games, just like me.”

I stiffened, forcing myself to stay calm, but the tears burning the corners of my eyes betrayed me.

He leaned forward, his green eyes locking onto mine, his expression cold and unyielding. “I don’t care about the alliance. I don’t care about your pack. And I sure as hell don’t care about you.”

Cyrus reached for his walking stick, using it to push himself upright. His movements were deliberate, the strain in his injured leg evident, but he showed no sign of weakness as he slowly crossed the room to his wheelchair. He sat down, adjusting himself with precision before turning to me again.

“The wedding will happen,” he said bluntly. “But not with me. You’ll go through the motions for appearances, and that’s it. No vows, no bond, no future. Do you understand?”

I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic tang filling my mouth. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Good.” He turned his chair away from me, a clear dismissal. “Now get out. I don’t give two f***s about you or what you want, but keep out of my way. This pack has enough spies, I don’t need another one in my home.”

“I’m not a spy,” I said softly, but the words felt hollow, meaningless.

“Out,” he barked, his voice sharp and cutting.

I nodded quickly, my throat tight with unshed tears as I backed toward the door. The moment I stepped into the hallway, the door slammed shut behind me, and I flinched at the sound.

William was waiting, his expression carefully neutral as he gestured for me to follow him. The long corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, each step heavier than the last.

When we reached the guest quarters, William opened the door and motioned for me to enter. “This will be your room,” he said curtly.

I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The room was small, the air stale and unwelcoming. A single bed sat against the wall, its frame cold and metallic, and a narrow window let in a sliver of pale light.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind me, and I heard the unmistakable click of a lock turning. My stomach dropped.

I rushed to the door, my hands fumbling with the knob. “Wait!” I called out, panic rising in my chest. “Please, open the door!”

There was no answer.

“I... I need space,” I stammered, my voice cracking. “Please, I’m claustrophobic. You can’t just leave me in here!”

Still, silence.

I pressed my forehead against the cold wood, my breath coming in shallow gasps as my chest tightened. “Please,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “Please… I can’t… I…”

But no one answered.

I sank to the floor, my back against the door as sobs wracked my body. The walls seemed to close in around me, the air too thin, too suffocating.

Alone. Always alone.

I cried until my throat was raw, my voice reduced to broken whispers.

My fingers clutched at the edges of my dress, the fabric damp from my tears.

It was too much, my father’s cruelty, Cyrus’s rejection, this suffocating cage they called a room. But what choice did I have? My mother’s life depended on me staying here, enduring this nightmare.

So I stayed by the door, crying softly into the darkness, the cold of the room seeping into my bones as I whispered to myself, “I’ll endure. I have to.”