Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

Four

Aleksandr's POV

"Aleksandr!"

My mate is in danger. I hear her voice echo from somewhere far away, and even at this distance, her call for help feels like a wrecking ball charging toward my heart, ready to shatter it at any second. She's nowhere to be seen, yet I can hear her sobs and catch her scent—now tainted with a putrid odor. My muscles tense as my eyes begin to glow, and my core burns like fire. Whoever dared to lay a finger on my Natalya will not live to see another dawn.

I run. I just run, moving my feet as fast as I can. I could be faster in my wolf form if Viktor weren’t holding back, refusing to take over my body. This is one of those times I desperately need him, yet he's unreachable. Frustrated, I push the thought of him aside and focus on following Natalya's scent.

"Aleksandr!"

"I'm here!"

"Help me!"

Her desperate cries pierce my ears, drowning out everything else. I swear I could tear myself apart for not knowing how to save her. I'm so useless—just like my wolf—at the moment she needs me most. I should never have let her walk away the other night. I was so, so stupid to use her to satisfy my base desires. Now, all I can do is curse myself for being a selfish, impulsive Alpha—adored by my pack but hated by the Luna the Moon Goddess chose for me. Natalya was right about me. Still, none of that matters now. The only thing that matters is finding her.

And there she is. I've found her, but she’s not herself. Her white dress is filthy, smeared with dirt and blood. Her bare feet are dirty and slightly wounded, her hands bound tightly by chains to a thick wall. Her lips are split, her eyelids heavy, her cheeks bloodied. My blood boils as I take in her heartbreaking condition. A growl escapes my throat, but all my rage and anguish fade when she looks at me with that smile I would kill to see.

"Sandr," she calls softly, her sweet voice making my heart flutter.

I'm about to reach her when a pack of lycans descends upon her, tearing her apart before my eyes. Her bloodied remains fall to the ground, and the lycans turn their jet-black eyes toward me, their gazes brimming with pure darkness. My heart pounds, on the verge of exploding, as I realize my mate has been slain by our race's mortal enemies.

Without the ability to shift into my wolf form, all I can do is stand frozen, consumed by rage and fear, as a tall figure emerges from the shadows. Clad in dark clothes and a hood, only his piercing greenish-blue eyes and sly smirk are visible. As his eyes shift to jet black, his form changes, revealing him as the Lycan King.

"You killed my mate," I growl, my fists clenching so hard they hurt.

"And what are you going to do about it?" he taunts, his voice low and menacing. "Didn't you reject her?"

His words strike me like a blow. Guilt surges through me, fueling my rage. Without thought, I charge at him, pouring all my strength into my fist. But just as my knuckles are about to connect, everything goes black.

"You were drowning in your own sweat, Sandr."

Panting, I bolt upright. It was just a dream. Holy s**t, it was just a dream. I should’ve known—the lycans haven’t been seen in ages, and Natalya would never wander into their territory. At least, I hope not. She’s not foolish enough to mistake lycan territory for neutral ground. I just pray she’s safe.

‘Safe?’ Viktor’s mocking laughter echoes in my mind. You pushed her away because you feared she’d ruin everything you’ve built for Green Peaks, and now you’re worried? Spare me, Aleksandr.

"Shut it, Viktor!" I shout, startling Marinka, whose presence I hadn’t noticed. Sitting up, I wipe the sweat from my face with the hem of my shirt. "Oh, Marinka. I didn’t see you there," I say, my voice unsteady. "What’s going on?"

She rolls her eyes, standing up from the bed. "I don’t like this, Sandr. You invited me over last night, saying you needed someone to lean on, but you just drank until you passed out. I spent the whole night dwelling on my own mistakes while you snored away."

"You should’ve slept, then," I mutter, leaning back against the pillow. "My head hurts."

"Why?"

Her sharp, suspicious gaze locks onto me. "Why?" she presses. "What happened?"

"Nothing, really."

"Sandr, you’re lying—"

"Marinka," I cut her off, masking my emotions—an Alpha’s skill.

"And now you’re guilty," she accuses. "You always hide your emotional scent when something’s bothering you."

Frustrated, I get up and down a glass of cold water.

"Why were you sweating like this?" she asks, lifting the soaked covers. "Like something was gnawing your—"

"It was a nightmare," I interrupt.

"About what?"

"Nothing."

"Sandr."

I sigh. Marinka’s persistence is legendary. Resisting would only prolong the interrogation.

"I dreamed about her," I admit at last.

"Her? Who are you talking about?"

"My mate."

Marinka gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. She falls silent, pacing around me like a restless pup, her wide eyes betraying her shock. It's clear she’s grappling with the fact that I've finally found my mate.

"Marinka, stop pacing around, for f**k’s sake," I mutter, trying to calm her, but she doesn’t stop.

Eventually, she perches on the edge of my bed and speaks softly, "I can’t believe it, Sandr. You’ve found your mate."

I settle beside her, watching her carefully. "Marinka, you okay?"

"We need to tell our parents to cancel the fixed marriage," she says, her gaze lifting to meet mine. "This should be our decision, Aleksandr, not theirs. They should listen to you. You’re the Alpha now. You can tell them to leave us alone."

I sigh heavily, the weight of responsibility pressing down on me. I may be the Alpha of the pack, but our clan’s tradition—arranged marriages with the strongest warriors—cannot simply be cast aside. My father drilled it into me countless times until I grew to despise it. Now, to honor my duty, I must forget about Natalya and marry Marinka, even though she’s not my fated mate either.

"I can’t," I reply.

"Why not?" she asks, frowning.

"It’s… complicated."

"Who is she? Your mate?"

"Yevgeniy’s sister," I admit reluctantly.

"Natalya Ivanova?" she asks, her voice incredulous. I nod. "She’s a sweet girl. Maybe you couldn’t find her before because she wasn’t of age yet."

"Maybe."

"Aren’t you glad?" Marinka places her hand on my wrist, her tone suddenly lighter. "Aren’t you happy that, at least, you’ve met her?"

"I’m grateful to the Moon Goddess, of course."

"Then what are you waiting for, Sandr?" She tugs on my arm, urging me to stand. "Let’s bring your Luna home and introduce her to your family!"

"I can’t."

"That’s bull—"

"I told her to leave," I cut in, dropping the bombshell.

Marinka freezes, staring at me as though I’ve grown a second head. Her grip loosens as she steps back, disbelief washing over her features. "What the f**k, Aleksandr? Why would you do that? Only the Moon Goddess knows where she is now, and I hope to hell she’s not in lycan territory."

She sits on a nearby stool, her voice laced with frustration. "Where did you send her? This is irresponsible, even for you."

"I’m the Alpha," I reply tersely. "I can—"

"Try me," she interrupts, daring me with a glare.

"Just drop it, Marinka."

"For f**k’s sake, Sandr," she snaps, standing abruptly. "She’s your mate. You should be worried sick right now."

Her words cut deep. I know she thinks I’m a heartless bastard, and maybe she’s right. But she’s also wrong. I am worried—worried about Natalya’s safety, her whereabouts, and what dangers might surround her. I was a fool to push her away, driven by my own pride and the fear of what others would think. Masking my emotions helps when I face the pack, but it doesn’t change the truth: I’m a selfish, pathetic asshole. If I could take it all back, I would. Because without her, I’m broken.

I stand abruptly, cutting off her tirade. "I’m going to the council. Now get up and keep this to yourself, understood?"

"I can’t believe you, Sandr," she says, shaking her head. "We’ve been friends forever, but right now, I don’t even recognize you. You’ve changed."

"Enough, Marinka. I can’t undo what’s already done—"

"Where’s Alyosha?" she cuts me off, referencing my Beta.

"What do you mean?" I frown. "He’s been missing for Goddess knows how long. Why? What happened?"

"He was banished from the pack the other day," she says, tears welling in her eyes.

"What?!" I exclaim, stunned. "I didn’t banish anyone!"

"Tell Natalya that," she retorts bitterly.

"Marinka—"

"Gamma Pavel and Viktoriya did it," she explains, her voice breaking. She throws her arms around me, sobbing uncontrollably.

I gently rub her back, trying to console her. "What’s this really about, Marinka?"

"Why do parents always ruin our lives?" she whispers.

And then it hits me—she loves Alyosha.

"He’s my mate, Sandr," she confesses, her words igniting a fresh wave of anger.

"Holy s**t. I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Marinka."

"That’s why I’m telling you to stand up for yourself, Sandr," she says, pulling away to look me in the eyes.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Break the f*****g tradition," she demands. "Yes, Sandr. I know about the Vassiliev clan’s fixed marriages. I’m not as clueless as everyone else."

"Shit."

"You need to fight for what the Moon Goddess has given you."

"I don’t know, Marinka."

"We need to find Yosha and Natalya before your wedding."

"Right," I mutter, nodding. "I dreamed about Natalya being killed by lycans."

Marinka slaps my arm. "Why didn’t you say that earlier?! Start assembling a search team, Sandr!"

"This is bad."

"Don’t tell your parents or the council about this," she warns.

"I’m sorry about Yosha," I say, guilt weighing heavy.

"It’s not your fault," she replies with a sad smile.

"I’ve messed up, haven’t I?" I ask bitterly. "I waited so long for my mate, only to push her away like she meant nothing."

Marinka hugs me tightly. "You can’t undo what’s done, Sandr. But we’ll get them back—together. And we’ll make sure this pack doesn’t stay trapped in ancient traditions anymore."

I smile faintly, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through me. "I hope so."

"Now, get ready." She dusts off my shoulders and steps back, her amber eyes glowing with determination. "We’ve got lycans to hunt.