The Alpha's Rejected Mate Is Back For Revenge

The air in the hall turned cold the moment I spoke. “Kael.” My voice didn’t shake. Five years of silence, five years of running, and it all came down to that one name. Heads snapped toward me. Wolves I once called family stared like I was a ghost. Some looked angry. Some looked scared. Kael’s expression didn’t change, but his golden eyes narrowed. “You’re dead,” he said quietly. Not a question. “Not yet.” I stepped forward, and the crowd parted without being told. Instinct. Even now, they remembered who I was. “You left,” he said. “You abandoned the pack. Pack law is clear—once you leave, you lose your claim.” I stopped ten feet from him. Close enough to see the scar on his jaw I gave him the night I escaped. “Pack law also says an Alpha can’t kill their own mate,” I replied. “And yet here we are.” A murmur rippled through the hall. Kael’s jaw clenched. “You have no proof.” I smiled, slow and cold. “I don’t need proof. The moon does.” Before anyone could react, I let my wolf surface. It wasn’t a full shift. Just enough. My eyes flashed silver, and the faint mark of the Moon Goddess on my collarbone began to glow. The mark only appeared on true Luna bloodlines. The mark only appeared for the rightful heir. Silence fell. Heavy, suffocating silence. Even Kael took half a step back. “Impossible,” he muttered. “Yet here I am,” I said. “And I’m not here to beg.” I looked past him, to the elders, to the warriors, to the pack I was born to lead. “I’m here to take back what’s mine.” Kael recovered fast. He always did. He straightened, forced a smirk, and raised his hand. “Then take it,” he said. “By pack law, if you want the title of Luna, you challenge me. Right here. Right now.” My blood ran cold. A challenge meant a fight to the death. Kael knew I hadn’t shifted fully in five years. He knew I was weaker than I used to be. He thought I’d back down. He was wrong. I stepped into the center of the circle the crowd had made. The stone floor was cold under my bare feet. “Fine,” I said. “But if I win, you step down. And you tell them the truth.” His smirk faded. “And if you lose?” he asked. I met his gaze. “Then I’ll die knowing I tried.” The drums began to beat. The challenge had started. And for the first time in five years, I wasn’t running.