The Alpha Who Rejects Me

Serpents Beneath the Moon

Delilah never cried when she was alone.

The moment the guards shut the door behind her, the trembling stopped.

The sobs vanished. Her shoulders straightened as she wiped her cheeks with deliberate care, smearing away the last trace of weakness.

“Come closer,” she said coldly.

The man standing at a dark part of the room her obeyed at once. Beta Delon rose from the shadows, tall and sharp-eyed, his expression carved from calculation rather than grief.

The torchlight caught the silver insignia on his chest—the mark of Finn Nightclaw’s second-in-command. And his future executioner.

“She’s gone,” Delon said. “Banished beyond the border at dawn.” Delilah smiled.

“Good.”

She crossed the chamber slowly, skirts whispering against the stone floor, and stopped before him. Delon’s hand slid instinctively to her waist, fingers familiar, possessive.

They had shared this room for years.

While Finn mourned imagined betrayals, while the pack praised loyalty, honor and while the Moon Goddess watched in silence.

“You see?” Delilah murmured. “Just as I promised. The little healer is no longer in our way.”

Delon’s lips curved, but his eyes remained sharp. “She was never meant to be the obstacle.”

“No,” Delilah agreed. “She was the inconvenience fate threw at us.”

Delon poured wine into two cups and handed her one.

“To patience,” he said.

She clinked her cup against his. “To inevitability.” They drank.

“Everything would have ended before the mating ceremony,” Delon continued darkly.

“If not for that bond.” Delilah’s smile tightened.

It had been his idea—every calculated step of it.

Disappear before the ceremony.

Leave Finn shattered. Strike when despair makes an Alpha careless. They had planned it perfectly.

She would vanish two days before the ceremony, leaving behind the letter Delon himself had forged. Finn would spiral. His guards would loosen. His instincts would be dull.

And Delon would kill him. A clean blade. A quiet coup. A grieving pack desperate for stability.

They never anticipated the Moon Goddess.

“She wasn’t supposed to be mated to him,” Delilah hissed suddenly, crushing the cup in her hand. Wine spilled down her fingers like blood. “She was nothing, just a weak healer and a shadow.”

Delon grabbed her wrist, steadying her.

“Calm yourself.”

“Don’t tell me to calm myself,” she snapped. “That bond ruined everything.”

It had forced her hand.

She had returned not out of desperation—but strategy.

The kidnapping story. The denial of the letter and the slow poison of suspicion.

Finn had always trusted her tears more than truth.

“And he swallowed it,” Delon said, satisfaction creeping into his voice. “Every word.”

Delilah laughed softly. “Of course he did. Finn wants to be lied to.”

She pulled her hand free and turned toward the window, gazing out at the moonlit pack territory she intended to rule.

“I needed him to turn on her,” she continued calmly. “To reject her. To break the bond himself.”

“And you succeeded,” Delon said. “She’s gone.”

“Yes,” Delilah replied. “But not dead.”

That part gnawed at her.

“She survived the border,” Delon said, his jaw tightening. “My assassins failed.”

“Because you sent fools,” she snapped. “Or because someone interfered.”

A silence fell between them.

Delon’s eyes darkened. “You think it was him.”

“The exiled brother,” Delilah said slowly.

“The rogue Alpha.”

Knox. The name tasted dangerous.

“If she lives,” Delilah continued, turning back to Delon, “she is still at a loose end. And fate has a habit of resurrecting things it refuses to bury.”

Delon studied her carefully. “Then we move to the next phase.”

Her smile returned—slow, sharp, lethal.

“Yes,” she said. “Now we let Finn grieve. Let the pack fracture. Let doubt rot the throne from within.”

“And when he is weakest?” Delon asked.

Delilah stepped into his arms, her voice a whisper against his ear. “Then we finish what the Moon Goddess interrupted.”

She pulled back, eyes gleaming with ambition and cruelty.

“The Alpha will fall,” she said. “And this pack will kneel—to us.”

Delon smiles, pecks her forehead, straightens up, and then walks out of the room with a practiced stern face.

"Fools!" Her smile turned lethal, "Men are fools! One is a weakling, and the other, an inexperienced two-faced bastard!" She clenched her fist. "

---

FLASHBACK

Delilah had never meant to eavesdrop.

She had been searching for Delon—drawn by habit, by familiarity—when she heard his voice through the half-open door of the council antechamber.

She slowed, then stopped.

“…you will have your Luna,” Delon was saying, his tone smooth, confident. “I swear it.”

Delilah’s breath hitched.

Elder Rowan chuckled softly. “You speak boldly for a Beta.”

“I am not planning to remain one,” Delon replied.

Delilah’s fingers curled slowly at her sides.

Rowan leaned back in his chair. “My daughter has waited long enough. I will help me unseat Finn, and I will support your claim. You mate her. You crown her Luna.”

Delon laughed quietly. “Done.”

The word sliced through Delilah like a blade.

Her chest tightened—not with heartbreak, but disbelief.

He promised me.

“I will deal with Finn,” Delon continued. “He’s weak. Too emotional and easy to manipulate.”

“And Delilah?” Rowan asked casually. “What of her?”

Delilah leaned closer to the wall, every sense sharpening.

Delon didn’t hesitate.

“She’s a problem,” he said flatly.

Rowan raised a brow. “You’ve been fond of her.”

“Fondness is temporary,” Delon replied. “Power is not.”

Delilah’s vision blurred.

“And how do you intend to dispose of her once you ascend?” Rowan asked.

Delon’s voice lowered, almost bored.

“I’ll poison her,” he said. “Slowly. Make it look like an illness. By the time anyone notices, she’ll be too weak to fight back.”

Something in Delilah snapped.

Her claws bit into her palms as rage flooded her veins. For one reckless second, she nearly burst into the room—ready to tear out his throat, to expose everything.

But she didn’t.

She forced herself to breathe. Forced her face smooth, and walked away silently.

That night, Delilah stared at her reflection until dawn.

The girl who believed Delon’s affection was gone. In her place stood something colder.

Smarter.

If he wanted to use her—She would let him.

If he planned to poison her—She would make sure he never lived long enough to try.

“What made you think you will share in my glory?" She picks the other cup and with a little effort, it shatters in her hands.

"When your usefulness to me is complete, you will be like this!" She smirks at the broken cup.

She would erase Finn first.

Then Delon. And when the throne was finally hers—No one would ever betray her again.