Rejected By My Alpha, Pregnant With His Heir

Chapter 3

The forest had become my sanctuary. Shadows and moonlight tangled between the trees, hiding me from the Emberwolf pack and, for now, from Rowland’s piercing gaze. Every step I took through the undergrowth was both a relief and a reminder: I was alone. Truly alone. But I wasn’t defeated. Not entirely.

I found an abandoned cabin near the riverbank, far from the main paths, its roof half-collapsed, windows cracked, but it had walls and shelter. It smelled of damp wood and mildew, yet it was mine for the taking. I stepped inside, brushing leaves and dirt from my gown, and sank to the floor, clutching my stomach. The life inside me moved faintly, a subtle heartbeat beneath my fingers.

“You’re alive,” I whispered to the child, tears prickling at the edges of my eyes. “And you’ll survive this too.”

For the first time since the ceremony, I allowed myself a shuddering breath. I had escaped humiliation, rejection, and the chaos of the hall. But freedom wasn’t safety. Rowland had power. The pack had eyes everywhere. And Everand… Everand was an unpredictable storm waiting to crash into my life at any moment.

I spent the night tending to the cabin, sweeping dirt into corners, patching holes with old boards I found. Every movement reminded me that I could survive—if only I didn’t falter. By dawn, my long hair was tangled, my gown torn, but I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in months: strength.

Morning sunlight streamed through the broken windows, and I stepped outside, letting the cold river air wash over me. I needed a plan. I had no allies, no pack, no protection. But I did have one weapon: my mind, and the secret growing inside me.

I spent days gathering supplies, learning the rhythm of the woods, and mapping paths that would keep me hidden. Every sound made my pulse jump. A snapping twig, a distant howl, the rustle of leaves—they all reminded me that I was being hunted. Not just by Rowland, but by the unpredictable presence of Everand, whose shadow seemed to linger wherever I went.

It was the third night that I saw him.

I had returned to the cabin after a long day of scavenging when a silhouette moved at the edge of the trees. My heart lurched, but I didn’t run. I waited, clutching a heavy branch in one hand, my other pressed instinctively to my stomach.

Everand stepped into the clearing, hands raised casually, eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Relax, Lyra,” he said smoothly. “I’m not here to hurt you. Not… yet.”

“Not yet?” I spat, my voice trembling with anger and fear. “You’re everywhere. You’re impossible. What do you want from me?”

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as if amused by my defiance. “I told you. I’m fascinated. You’re unpredictable, clever, and… carrying something very valuable. That alone makes you interesting.”

My pulse thundered. He knew. He had to know. The life inside me. The secret that I’d carried silently for months. And yet, he didn’t touch me. Not yet.

“I am not yours,” I said firmly. “I do not belong to anyone.”

He smirked. “Technically, you belong to Rowland. But you don’t belong to him either. And I… I belong somewhere in this mess. Somewhere very close to you.”

I wanted to strike him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to vanish. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

“I don’t care,” I whispered finally, clutching my stomach tighter. “I have my life. My child. You can’t touch that.”

Everand’s smirk softened—just slightly—but his eyes were still dangerous. “Oh, I won’t touch it… at least, not without your permission. For now.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine. Fear, confusion, and… something else. Something I couldn’t name.

I backed toward the cabin, forcing myself to keep my composure. “Leave,” I said. “And don’t come near me again.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that both enraged and unsettled me. “You’ll see me again. And soon. Much sooner than you want.”

And just like that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving me with a heartbeat pounding in my ears and a mind spinning with questions I didn’t yet dare answer.

The days passed. I scavenged, learned the woods, and avoided every possible patrol of the pack. I began to rebuild myself, physically and mentally. I trained, ran, hunted small game, and pushed my body beyond its limits. Every muscle, every scar, every ache reminded me that I could survive. That I could thrive.

But each night, Everand’s warning echoed in my mind. He was everywhere. Watching. Waiting. I couldn’t shake the feeling that every shadow hid him, every howl could be his, and every whisper of the wind carried a threat I couldn’t see.

Meanwhile, far away, Alpha Rowland could not shake the memory of Lyra. He had rejected her publicly, humiliated her in front of the pack, and yet… a part of him couldn’t forget the way she had stood, defiant and trembling, at his feet. Regret tugged at him in ways he refused to admit, even to himself.

I did not care for his regrets. I did not care for the pack. I had my child, my wits, and the forest. And I would survive.

One night, as I lay in the cabin beneath a thin blanket, listening to the river whisper past, I made a decision.

If Rowland thought he could erase me, humiliate me, and walk away… he had another thing coming.

If Everand thought he could manipulate me, fascinate me, or own me… he would discover I was far more dangerous than he imagined.

I would not beg. I would not yield. I would fight. And I would win.

Because I was Lyra Emberwolf. And I had a secret. A child. A life that no one could touch.

And the moment had come to reclaim both.