REJECTED BUT FATED

The sun stretched lazily over Shadow Blade Pack, painting the horizon in golden hues. Morning light filtered through the thick canopy of pine trees surrounding our mansion, casting long shadows that danced across the dew-kissed grass. I stood barefoot in the clearing behind our home, my blue dress clinging to my legs as I spun in the cool morning air. Laughter bubbled from my chest, unfiltered and wild, like I could spin forever and nothing would ever change. “Faster, Rita!” William called, a pinecone clutched in his hand like a mighty sword. “You’re too slow! I’m the Alpha now!” I stopped mid-spin, planting my hands on my hips and feigning a scowl. “You wish! I’m the Alpha’s daughter. You’re the one who has to listen to me and obey my every command!” He grinned and charged, tackling me to the ground. We tumbled through the soft grass until we landed under the wide branches of our old oak tree, panting, giggling, completely breathless. That oak had been ours since we were five: our secret place. We had carved our initials into its bark, side by side. My wolf stirred inside me with the memory. “You’re mine,” William said confidently, propping himself up on one elbow. “That means you’ll be my Luna. And I’ll be your Alpha.” The way he said it made my cheeks warm. We were only kids, but something about his words felt… certain. Fated. William and I were born just days apart. We trained together, studied the ancient laws, and learned the art of leadership under our parents’ watchful eyes. To the rest of the pack, it was a given: we were already mates. Maybe I believed it too. After all, being Alpha and Luna sounded like the grandest adventure in the world, one wrapped in laughter, secrets whispered under stars, and the comfort of someone who’d always been there. “Do you think we’ll really rule together?” I asked, twirling a blade of grass between my fingers. “Of course,” William replied without hesitation. “I’ll be Alpha, and you’ll be my Luna.” I rolled my eyes. “No way. I’ll be Alpha. You can be my Beta.” He laughed, tossing a leaf at my face. “If you’re Luna, then I’m automatically Alpha. It’s the law, remember?” I smirked. “Maybe I’ll rewrite the law.” We laughed again, basking in our childhood innocence. I thought I knew what love was. I thought I knew what fate felt like. But fate doesn’t care about what we think we deserve. By the time we turned sixteen, the whispers around the pack grew louder. The elders watched us with knowing eyes. My mother once told my father, “Their bond must have been ordained by the gods.” I didn’t question it. Why would I? William was everything I thought I wanted. Confident, strong, and protective. I let myself fall all in, blind to everything else. Everything including Daniel. He’d been around since we were little, always in the background. An Omega. A servant. He swept floors, cleaned armor, and ran errands without question. I never really noticed him until I did. Until something about him made my wolf stir in ways that confused me. There was a quiet strength in him, something raw and unshaped. When I asked him to help with my assignments, he never hesitated. I’d laugh with William while Daniel worked, and somewhere deep inside, a flicker of guilt twisted in my chest. But I didn’t stop. I didn’t even say thank you. One afternoon, I asked him, “Why are you always nice to me?” Daniel met my gaze for a second, his eyes were a startling shade of steel gray before looking away. “Because you’re my friend.” I laughed, almost bitterly. “We can’t be friends. I’m the future leader of this pack. You’re… an Omega.” He didn’t flinch. “That doesn’t change how I feel.” I swallowed hard and walked away. I knew better than to get close to a lowly servant, yet Daniel was different. He was intelligent, sharp in a way that made me feel foolish sometimes. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I found myself running to him whenever I struggled with my schoolwork. He never refused me. Not once. Maybe that’s what made it worse. He should’ve said no. He wasn’t supposed to be at the elite academy. And yet, on the first day of term, there he stood among us, clutching his invitation like he belonged there. His shoulders were squared with quiet dignity, though his uniform didn’t quite fit. His presence alone stirred unease in the room. The other students sneered, muttered, and smirked. And I didn’t say a word. I didn’t defend him. But something in me shifted. My wolf stirred again, the same way it always did when Daniel was near. “How did you get here?” William demanded, his irritation was obvious. He stepped forward, arms folded across his chest, chin raised with practiced arrogance. “The Alpha was gracious enough to recommend my admission,” Daniel answered, his voice calm, unwavering. William scoffed. “Does the Alpha now feed food meant for nobles to dogs?” Laughter erupted behind him. Kenneth, William’s ever-loyal shadow, added cruelly, “Come on, Wills. Maybe the Alpha sent him to clean up after us.” The laughter grew louder as they threw dirt at Daniel, the literal clumps of soil from the training yard. I stood there, watching. My hands clenched, but I didn’t move. I didn’t stop them. Part of me pitied him. Another part, the cruel part, reminded me not to interfere. Not to challenge William who is a son of a Beta over a slave. “Come, my love,” I said gently, placing a hand on William’s arm. “Leave the slave alone. Let’s go.” He hesitated, eyes still locked on Daniel, who had remained quiet, his head lowered. “A minute, dear,” William muttered. “I need to show the slave his place.” “It’s not worth it,” I said, forcing a smile. “Why waste your time on him?” That seemed to pacify him. He smirked, puffed out his chest. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be dealing with trash.” Then, with one last shove of his shoulder against Daniel’s, he turned and walked away with me at his side. Daniel didn’t flinch. Didn’t fight back. He simply stood there, shoulders squared, eyes down. We left him there, surrounded by sneers and scorn. Later that evening, as the memory of the scene gnawed at me, I stormed into my father’s office. “Why did you do it?” I demanded, standing at the edge of his desk. He looked up from his scrolls, startled. “Do what?” “That slave,” I spat. “Why did you send him to my school?” He arched his brow. “Daniel?” My tone sharpened. “You sent an Omega, a servant, to an elite academy. My school.” The Alpha leaned back in his chair, his face unreadable. “Because you’ve been falling behind in your studies. Daniel is sharp, and I thought he might be able to help you keep up.” “You don’t believe in me,” I snapped. “That’s not true,” he said calmly. “You’re smart, Rita. But even the strongest leaders need help. Daniel might be a servant, but he has a mind like a steel trap. He could be useful to you.” I felt my face burn. “Useful?” I whispered. “You brought him there to be my tutor?” “I brought him there to give you a chance to succeed.” I swallowed hard, fury and humiliation tangled in my chest. I turned on my heel and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t spare Daniel a second thought the next day. He was the poorest among us: an Omega, a servant, and that meant he knew his place. He cleaned our dorms, ran errands, and carried our bags like a pack mule. That’s what Omegas were born to do. But no matter how much we humiliated him, he never let it touch his spirit. He always showed up to class, chin raised, mind sharp. And he aced every single test. It annoyed William more than it annoyed me. “He’s a damn Omega,” William snarled one day, slamming his fist into the wall of our classroom after Daniel answered a complicated question even our professor had struggled to explain. “What kind of person doesn't understand he’s not wanted here?” He tried everything to get Daniel expelled. He planted false reports, encouraging fights, framing him for mischief, but Daniel never reacted. He just bore it all with a quiet and stubborn fire that made him impossible to break. And somehow, that quiet strength irritated me too. Then came the conversation with my father. “It’s four weeks to my birthday,” I reminded him casually over dinner. “I know,” he said without looking up from his scrolls. “It’s my eighteenth,” I stressed. “I’m quite aware,” he replied with the same indifference. “Then why haven’t the preparations started? As the Alpha’s daughter, I should have a grand ceremony, with prominent alphas and nobles in attendance. Just like the other heirs of the realm.” He finally looked up at me, his expression unreadable. “You haven’t behaved like an Alpha’s daughter.” My heart dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Your grades are falling. A leader leads not just with presence or force, but with intellect. If you want to be celebrated as an Alpha’s daughter, prove you're worthy.” My mouth went dry. “So, what do you want me to do?” “You have exams in two weeks. Make at least six ‘A’s, and I’ll host you the grand party you desire.” “Six A’s?” I gasped, nearly choking on the words. “That’s impossible!” He didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. I stormed away, heart pounding, tears threatening to spill. I was furious with him, with myself, with everything. My future, my image, the ceremony I had envisioned for years. All of it depended on my academics now and I knew I couldn’t do it. At school the next day, I was quieter than usual. No one noticed. Not William, not my circle of friends. But someone did. Daniel. I was sitting under the sycamore tree behind the academy building when he approached me, cautious but calm. “You seem... troubled,” he said. I didn’t respond. Part of me wanted to tell him to go away, to mind his lowly business. But I couldn’t. Not this time. “Will you help me?” I asked softly. He raised an eyebrow. “With what?” “My exams,” I muttered. “I need to get six A’s in order to get a grand birthday party and I don’t have time to waste.” He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I’ll help you. But only if you agree to one condition.” My eyes narrowed. “What kind of condition?” “I want a VIP ticket to your party.” I blinked, stunned. “What?” “If you pass and get your celebration, I want to attend. As your guest. In the VIP section.” The audacity. Who did he think he was? “You’re an Omega,” I hissed, eyes flashing. “You don’t get to make demands.” “You asked for help. I’m offering it, on my terms.”