Rejected to Fated

Obedience

I’m still wrapped in the blanket when another knock sounds at my door — softer than the guard’s earlier, but no less commanding.

“El,” a woman’s voice calls. “Alpha Marcus has sent me.”

My stomach tightens. I pull the blanket closer around myself. “For what?”

The door opens before I finish the question.

A woman steps inside — older, stern, her hair pulled into a tight braid. She wears the pack’s formal colors, but her expression is colder than any uniform. She looks me over with the detached scrutiny of someone assessing livestock.

“I am Mistress Hale,” she says. “The pack’s obedience tutor.”

My breath stutters. “Obedience… what?”

She closes the door behind her. “This training is required of all women before their mating ceremonies. It teaches proper conduct, discipline, and respect toward their Alpha and their mate.”

I blink. “I’ve never—”

“You were spared,” she interrupts. “Out of Alpha Marcus’s kindness. He believed your childhood trauma made you too fragile for the lessons. He wanted you to feel safe here. To feel like this pack was your family.”

Her eyes harden.

“But that time is over.”

A cold shiver runs down my spine.

She steps closer, her posture rigid, her voice clipped. “You will address me as ‘Mistress.’ You will address Alpha Marcus as ‘sir.’ And you will address your future mate the same.”

I swallow. “Yes… Mistress.”

“Good.” She nods once. “Now stand.”

I rise slowly, still shaking from the examination, from everything.

“Hands behind your back,” she instructs.

I obey.

“Eyes down.”

I lower my gaze.

“Feet together.”

I comply, heat crawling up my neck.

“This,” she says, circling me like a hawk, “is the posture of a respectful Luna. Silent. Still. Attentive.”

My chest tightens.

She stops in front of me. “A Luna does not question. A Luna does not hesitate. A Luna obeys.”

I nod faintly.

“Say it.”

My throat feels tight. “A Luna obeys.”

“Louder.”

“A Luna obeys.”

She studies me, then continues. “Your mate will expect your submission. In all things. In the home. In the pack. In private matters.”

Her voice lowers, but not in kindness. “Especially in the bedroom.”

My cheeks burn, but she doesn’t pause.

“You will not initiate. You will not resist. You will not speak unless given permission. You will follow his lead in all ways. This is the natural order.”

My stomach twists.

“Now,” she says, stepping back, “you will practice responding properly.”

She lifts her chin. “If Alpha Marcus gives you a command, how do you answer?”

I hesitate.

Her voice sharpens. “El.”

I flinch. “Yes, sir.”

“Again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Faster.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Without thinking.”

“Yes, sir.”

She nods, satisfied. “Good. You will use that response for every command from your Alpha or your mate. It shows respect. Loyalty.

Submission.”

I feel smaller with every word.

“Now kneel.”

My breath catches. “Mistress—”

Her eyes narrow. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

My legs fold beneath me before I can think, the floor cold against my knees.

“Hands on your thighs. Eyes down. Back straight.”

I obey each command, my body moving automatically, my mind drifting somewhere far away.

“This is how a Luna waits for instruction,” she says. “This is how she shows devotion.”

I swallow hard, staring at the floorboards.

“Alpha Marcus has been patient with you,” she continues. “Too patient. He believed sparing you from this training would help you heal. But now you must learn what every woman in this pack already knows.”

She leans down, her voice a whisper against my ear.

“You belong to him. And soon, the entire pack will see it.”

A tremor runs through me.

“Stand,” she commands.

I rise.

“Again.”

I kneel.

“Again.”

I rise.

“Again.”

I kneel.

My muscles burn. My throat aches. My mind feels numb.

But I obey.

Because that’s what I’ve been taught to do.

When Mistress Hale finally steps back, she nods once. “We will continue tomorrow. And every day until the ceremony.”

Mistress Hale steps toward the door, her hand closing around the handle. For a moment, I think she’s finished.

But she pauses.

Turns back.

Her eyes sweep over me — still kneeling, still shaking, still trying to remember how to breathe — and something like satisfaction flickers across her face.

“One more thing, El.”

My stomach tightens.

“You will use everything I taught you tonight.”

My breath stutters. “Tonight?”

“Yes.” Her voice is smooth, cold, certain. “When you serve dinner.”

The words sink in slowly, like ice spreading through my veins.

“You will not sit with the family,” she continues. “A Luna does not presume to take her place at the table until she has earned it. You will stand behind your Alpha. You will speak only when spoken to. You will answer every command with ‘Yes, sir.’ And you will keep your eyes down unless given permission to raise them.”

My throat feels tight.

She steps closer, lowering her voice to a razor‑thin whisper.

“Tonight, the pack will see the beginning of your transformation. They will see that you understand your purpose.”

Her gaze hardens.

“To serve your Alpha.

To serve your mate.

To serve the pack.”

I swallow, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“That is your role,” she says. “Your only role.”

She straightens, smoothing her uniform.

“Do not embarrass Alpha Marcus again.”

Then she opens the door and slips out, closing it softly behind her — leaving me kneeling on the floor, trembling, realizing that tonight… everyone will see exactly how small Marcus intends to make me.

I sit on the floor for a long time after Mistress Hale leaves, the echo of her commands still ringing in my ears. Stand. Kneel. Eyes down. Yes, sir.

The words cling to me like a second skin.

Eventually, I force myself to move.

I pull myself together the way I’ve done a thousand times before — quietly, quickly, without letting myself think too hard. I wash my face, smooth my hair, and change into clean clothes. But when I look in the mirror before leaving, something inside me stutters.

I don’t recognize the girl staring back.

Just a few days ago, she looked… alive.

Now she looks like she’s fading.

Her shoulders are tense

Her eyes are hollow.

Her mouth is set in a line that isn’t hers.

My whole world is shifting too fast for me to keep up.

I swallow hard and turn away from the mirror. I can’t fall apart. Not now. I have my lesson with Eldin, and I can’t disappoint him. I can’t disappoint Marcus. I can’t disappoint anyone.

As I walk toward the shaman’s cottage, I keep replaying the rules over and over in my head.

Hands behind your back.

Eyes down.

Speak only when spoken to.

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

My heart races. What if I forget a step? What if I hesitate? What if I embarrass Marcus again?

I must be good.

I must be perfect.

The Alpha has done so much to protect me.

I owe him everything.

I will be obedient.

Clouds roll in overhead, swallowing the sun so quickly it feels like someone flipped a switch. The air grows heavy, thick with the scent of rain.

By the time I reach Eldin’s door, the sky is nearly black.

He opens it before I can knock.

His eyes widen the moment he sees me. “El…” His voice is soft, worried. “What’s troubling you, my dear?”

“Nothing, Eldin.” The lie slips out automatically.

He steps aside, letting me in, but he doesn’t look convinced. “No, no, no,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You can’t lie to me. Your

emotions are written all over the sky.”

I swallow, staring at the floor. “I had obedience training this morning. And I’m just… afraid I’m going to mess everything up.”

Eldin stills. “Obedience what?”

I tell him everything — Mistress Hale, the commands, the posture, the rules, the expectations. The way she said this is how all women should act. The way she said I was long overdue.

He listens without interrupting, but his expression grows darker with every word.

When I finish, he exhales slowly. “Hmm.”

He doesn’t say it isn’t real.

He doesn’t tell me to disobey.

He doesn’t tell me Marcus is wrong.

He just studies me with eyes that look older than the mountains.

Finally, he steps closer and places a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Remember, dear,” he says softly. “You have control.”

My breath catches.

“You are control.”

He nods toward the center of the room.

“Now,” he says, voice steady and grounding, “let’s practice.”

Eldin’s lesson should calm me. It usually does. But today my mind won’t stay still.

He guides me through breathing exercises, grounding techniques, the same gentle motions he’s taught me for years. But my thoughts keep slipping away from him, racing ahead to tonight.

If I’m perfect at dinner, everything will be okay.

I’ll make a four‑course meal.

I’ll prepare Alpha Marcus’s favorite.

Tyler’s favorite.

The Beta’s favorite.

I’ll bake dessert.

I’ll serve everything flawlessly.

I’ll obey every rule Mistress Hale taught me.

I’ll show them I can be the perfect Luna.

I’ll wear the right dress.

The right heels.

I’ll keep my eyes down.

I’ll answer every command with Yes, sir.

I’ll be good.

I’ll be perfect.

I’ll make them proud.

I’m so deep in the plan that I don’t realize I’ve stopped breathing until Eldin’s voice cuts through the fog.

“You are obviously distracted, my dear.”

I blink, startled. “I—I’m sorry.”

He studies me, concern etched into every line of his face. “Understandable, with the big day ahead. But meditation requires presence.

And your mind is miles away.”

My cheeks burn. “Oh my gosh, Eldin, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

He waves off my apology with a gentle flick of his hand. “We are allowed our emotions, El. Even you.”

I force a small smile, but the words echo strangely inside me.

No. Lunas are not allowed their emotions.

Not anymore.

“Go on,” Eldin says softly. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I nod and head home, the sky still heavy and gray above me.