Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by Three

The night Lyra Quinn's life ended began with fairy lights. They hung between the old oak trees surrounding the Silvercrest Pack courtyard, glowing softly above hundreds of wolves gathered for the mate ceremony. Music drifted through the warm evening air. Laughter rose from the crowd, and everywhere Lyra looked, people were smiling. She should have been smiling too. Instead, she stood beneath the lights in the white dress her mother had chosen, her fingers twisting the ribbon around her wrist. She had told herself all afternoon not to touch it. She had failed. Three times, she had retied the same ribbon. Three times, she had checked the courtyard entrance for Darian. And three times, she had reminded herself that there was nothing to worry about. Darian had promised her. That morning, he had found her in the eastern garden, leaning against the old stone wall while she struggled with the ribbon again. "You've tied that thing three times." "It keeps coming loose." His mouth had curved into the smile he rarely showed anyone else. "It isn't the ribbon you're worried about." She had looked up at him. "Then what am I worried about?" "Tonight." He had stepped closer and taken her hand, his thumb brushing slowly over her knuckles. "After tonight, Lyra, you won't have to wonder where you belong." She had believed him. She had believed every word. Now Darian stood across the courtyard in black, the silver mark of the future Alpha faint against his skin. His eyes found hers. Lyra smiled. He didn't. The music stopped. Conversation faded until the courtyard became almost completely silent. Darian walked toward her. With every step, the mate bond tightened around her ribs, warmth spreading through her chest. She expected that warmth to become joy when he reached her. Instead, something cold settled in her stomach. He stopped in front of her. For one heartbeat, their eyes met. She waited for him to say her name. He didn't. "I, Darian Cole, Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack, reject you, Lyra Quinn, as my mate and future Luna." The words reached her before their meaning did. Reject you. Lyra stared at him. "Darian?" The bond snapped. Pain ripped through her chest so violently that her knees nearly gave way. She caught herself, one hand pressed against her heart as her wolf cried out inside her. The courtyard erupted. Someone gasped. Someone else whispered, "An omega?" Her mother's cry broke through the crowd. Then, from somewhere near the edge of the courtyard, a man's voice spoke quietly. "Finally." Lyra turned toward the sound. She couldn't see who had said it. She never would. For five years, she would wonder. "The bond is an error," Darian said. She looked back at him. "No." Her voice barely existed. "You don't mean that." "I do." "You told me I was yours." Something flickered across his face. Pain. Real pain. Then it disappeared. "I was wrong." Her heart broke all over again. "Why?" He looked past her toward the watching pack. "I have chosen the future of my pack." Her throat tightened. "I don't understand." "I will not accept you as my Luna." He paused. "I will take another before the next full moon." The words seemed to echo around the courtyard. Lyra could barely breathe. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to grab his shirt and force him to look at her. Instead, she asked the one question that mattered. "Did you ever love me?" His expression changed. For one brief second, the Alpha disappeared. There was only the boy she had known. The boy who had held her hand that morning. The boy who had promised she would never have to wonder where she belonged. Pain filled his eyes. Then he buried it. "I can't give you what you want." "That's not what I asked." "Lyra." Her name sounded like it hurt him. She waited. He looked away. "It doesn't matter what I feel." A tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away before anyone could see. Then she straightened her shoulders. "If that's your decision, Alpha, I accept it." She turned. She walked away without looking back. She didn't see Darian's hand close into a fist. She didn't see the way he remained standing there long after she disappeared. She didn't know that before sunrise, he would sit alone in his room with the farewell note she had left behind, reading the single word written at the bottom until the ink blurred beneath his thumb. Sorry. She knew only one thing. She had loved him. And he had chosen to destroy that love in front of everyone who had ever known her. Five years later, Lyra stood inside a glass elevator thirty-two floors above the city. She watched the numbers climb. Her reflection stared back at her. Black suit. Dark hair pulled neatly away from her face. Steady eyes. No white dress. No trembling hands. No reason left to believe promises. She had learned how to make her body lie. The elevator chimed. The doors opened. "Miss Quinn?" She turned. "Mr. Cole is expecting you." Her stomach tightened. She had seen his name on the contract and deliberately ignored it. Now there was nowhere left to hide from it. She followed the assistant down a corridor lined with dark glass until they reached a pair of black doors. "Come in." Lyra stopped. That voice. Five years had passed, and she still recognized it instantly. Worse, her wolf recognized it too. Something inside her went painfully still. She stepped into the office. Darian stood behind a black desk overlooking the city. He had changed. His hair was longer. His shoulders were broader. A thin scar cut through his left eyebrow, the kind of silver left behind. But his eyes were the same. They found hers. The pen between his fingers snapped. He didn't seem to notice. "Lyra." "Mr. Cole." She placed her folder on his desk. His jaw tightened. "Don't call me that." "You called me Miss Quinn." "I didn't know it was you." "Now you do." She turned to leave the folder on the desk. He came around the desk. The closer he got, the harder it became to ignore the familiar scent beneath the cedar in the room. Pine. Smoke. Something darker. Her body remembered him before her mind could stop it. Then she caught something else. Fear. Not hers. His. "You disappeared," he said. "I left." "I searched for you." She looked at him. "Why?" His expression tightened. "Because I needed to know you were alive." "Five years ago, you didn't seem concerned." "I made a mistake." "No." Her voice remained calm. "You made a decision." He looked down. "You stood in front of everyone and told them I wasn't your future. Then you walked away." She swallowed. "I went home and packed one bag." "I know." "How?" Silence. She studied him. "How, Darian?" His eyes dropped briefly to her bare ring finger. "You never found another mate." "Neither did you." Something shifted in his face. "I never wanted another." Her breath caught. He looked away before she could answer. "Rejecting you didn't break the bond," he said quietly. "It only silenced it." Lyra tightened her grip on the folder. "I've spent five years feeling like half of myself." He looked back at her. "And pretending I was fine." The words landed harder than she expected. He hadn't meant to say them. She could see it. "That's not an answer." "No." His voice was low. "It's a confession." The bond stirred. Warmth moved up her spine. She hated that her body still responded to him when her mind was telling her to stay away. "I came here for the security contract." "I know." "Nothing else." His eyes held hers. "You think I want this to be professional?" "I don't care what you want." She picked up her folder. "Why did you reject me?" Something flashed across his face. Fear. Before he could answer, his phone rang. He looked at the screen. The color drained from his face. "Yes?" A pause. "She's here." Another pause. His voice dropped. "No. She doesn't know." Lyra watched him closely. A man's voice came faintly through the phone. Low. Unfamiliar. Darian's expression hardened. "I understand." He ended the call. "Who was that?" He said nothing. "Darian." "You're leaving." "Why?" "Tonight." She stared at him. "Why?" He crossed the room toward her. He wasn't threatening her. But something in his expression stirred every instinct inside her. "Because someone knows you're here." "Who?" "I don't know." "You're lying." "I'm trying to keep you alive." He opened a drawer and removed a small black envelope. He placed it on the desk between them. Lyra stared at it. "What is that?" "It arrived this morning." He hesitated. "A photograph." "Of what?" "You." She looked at him. "I haven't been photographed today." "I know." He pushed the envelope toward her. Lyra opened it. Her breath stopped. The photograph showed her five years earlier, standing beyond the pack border with one bag in her hand. The night she left. Someone had been close enough to take her photo. She had never seen them, smelled them, or even known they were there. Her fingers tightened around the photograph. "Where did you get this?" "It was delivered to my house this morning." "Who sent it?" "I don't know." She turned the photograph over. Four words had been written across the back. She was never supposed to leave. Lyra looked up. "What does that mean?" Darian's face was unreadable. "That's what I've been trying to find out for five years." The room seemed to close in around her. For five years, he had known something was wrong. He had searched for her. He had never taken another mate. Yet he had still let her believe she meant nothing to him. "What happened that night?" she whispered. Darian opened his mouth. The lights went out. Darkness swallowed the room. Lyra gasped. Darian's hand closed around her wrist. He pulled her behind him. "Stay behind me." A faint prickle moved through the darkness. Something was there. Not approaching. Waiting. Then a voice drifted through the room. Smooth. Male. Amused. Close enough to raise every hair on Lyra's arms. "Five years was a long time to stay hidden, Lyra Quinn." Her blood ran cold. Somewhere in the darkness, a lock clicked. From inside.