Rejected By The Pack: Claimed By The Cursed Alpha

Chapter seven

The training field smelled of crushed grass, damp earth, and the metallic tang of sweat—scents that used to mean home but now felt like a taunt. I stood at the edge of the clearing, watching the rhythmic blur of bodies in motion. Warriors clashed with wooden practice blades, their movements fluid and fueled by the raw power of the wolves living beneath their skin.

Once, I had been the center of this world. Now, I was a ghost haunting my own life.

I took a breath, feeling the bruise on my ribs where Lyra’s words had struck deeper than any physical blow could. I shouldn't have come. It would highlight everything I had lost. But the warmth in my chest—the strange, pulsing ember that had stayed with me since Lyra left my room—pushed me forward.

The Beta was there, standing near the center of the field with his hands clasped behind his back, his presence a steady anchor in the chaotic energy of the pack. When he saw me, he didn’t look away with pity or disdain like the others. He simply gestured for me to join him.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice level.

“I had a visitor,” I replied, stepping onto the dirt.

He didn't ask who. He knew the dynamics of the Alpha’s house better than anyone. He simply handed me a wooden sparring sword. The weight was familiar, the balance perfect, and for a fleeting second, the muscle memory of a thousand training sessions hummed through my arms.

“Stance,” he commanded.

I dropped into a crouch, feet spread, knees loose. He circled me, his eyes sharp and observant.

“Wider,” he corrected, nudging my heel with his boot. “You’re relying on agility because you’re afraid of the impact. Ground yourself. Strength isn’t only in the wolf, Seraphina. It’s in the earth beneath you”.

I adjusted my weight, feeling the grit of the soil under my boots. Without a wolf to feed my stamina, every movement cost more. My lungs already felt tight, the air thin.

He lunged without warning.

I parried, the shock of wood meeting wood vibrating up my forearms and into my teeth. I spun, swinging low, but he was already gone, moving with the preternatural speed of a high-ranking wolf.

“Too slow,” he murmured, his blade tapping my shoulder in a silent 'death' blow.

“I don’t have a wolf to speed me up,” I snapped, my frustration bubbling to the surface.

“Then use your brain,” he countered, resettting his position. “Predict. Anticipate. A wolf relies on instinct; a warrior relies on intent. Again”.

We clashed again. And again.

The whispers started almost immediately from the edges of the field.

“Look at her,” a girl sneered, her voice carrying easily on the breeze. “Pretending she’s still one of us”.

“It’s pathetic,” a boy added, a young warrior I used to outrun in every drill. “She can barely catch her breath. Why does the Beta waste his time?”

I blocked the insults out, focusing entirely on the Beta’s eyes. I moved faster, my body screaming as my human lungs struggled to keep pace. My muscles burned, a dull roar of fatigue setting in far sooner than it should have.

I lunged, a desperate, driving move, and for a second, I saw surprise flicker in the Beta’s gaze. I almost landed the hit—my blade was inches from his ribs—before my legs gave out. I stumbled, my knees hitting the hard-packed dirt with a jarring thud.

I stayed there for a moment, head bowed, gasping for air. The world spun, the taste of copper in the back of my throat.

“She’s going to collapse,” someone laughed.

“Maybe she should just stay down,” another voice called out. “It’s where the wolfless belong”.

A shadow fell over me. The Beta didn’t offer a hand to help me up. He knew that would be the ultimate insult. He simply stood there, waiting.

“You have the discipline,” he said quietly, so only I could hear. “You have the technique. But you’re fighting yourself as much as you’re fighting me”.

“I’m fighting a body that’s failing me!” I hissed, finally looking up at him.

He studied me, his expression unreadable. “Is it?”

Before I could answer, a sharp, authoritative pulse of a mindlink hit the air. I couldn't hear the words, but I saw the way the Beta’s posture shifted, his focus pulling toward the Alpha’s estate.

“The Alpha wants a council meeting,” he said, his voice regaining its professional edge. He looked back down at me, and for a split second, I saw a flash of something that looked like regret. “Go home, Seraphina. Rest. You’ve done enough for today”.

He turned and strode toward the house, his coat snapping in the wind.

I stayed on the ground for a long minute after he left. I could feel the eyes of the other wolves on me—heavy, mocking, and full of a cruel satisfaction. I was the embarrassment, the reminder of failure they all wanted to forget.

I pushed myself up, my limbs shaking, and brushed the dirt from my knees. I didn't look at them. I kept my head high, even as my vision blurred with exhaustion.

As I walked off the field, the warmth in my chest flared again. It wasn't just heat this time; it was a low, resonant thrum that seemed to vibrate in sync with the very earth the Beta had told me to rely on.

Mine, the voice from the shadows of my mind whispered again.

I stopped at the edge of the woods, looking back at the training grounds. They thought they were watching a girl break. They didn't realize that under the dirt and the fatigue, something far more dangerous was being forged.