Chapter 10: The Alpha’s First Word: No
1012 Words
I couldn’t stand.
My legs were there, technically. I could see them. I could feel the cold wood under my palms. But my body refused to cooperate, like it had decided I didn’t deserve dignity tonight.
Lorraine placed her hands on my shoulders, attempting to lift me while using her body to shield me from the pack's gaze, as if she could hide me from the situation.
“Easy,” she whispered. “Elara, look at me. Look at me.”
I blinked hard. The room swam. Faces blurred into one big shape of judgment. I heard my name bounce around in little pieces, whispered and repeated like a rumor turning into a weapon.
Rowan’s footsteps moved away. Calm. Measured. Like what he’d just done was normal. Like rejecting me was a chore he’d checked off a list.
My throat burned.
I wanted to scream his name.
I wanted to grab his ankle and make him look at me.
I wanted to do something—anything—that proved I mattered.
But my pride was on the floor beside me, broken into shards, and I didn’t know how to pick it up without cutting myself.
Lorraine tugged me upward. I forced my knees under me. My chest still ached with that deep ripping feeling, like someone had torn a thread out of my soul and left the hole open.
Sierra stood a few steps away, one hand pressed to her collarbone, playing shocked. But her eyes were bright. Satisfied. Like she’d been holding her breath for this ending.
Elder Grant cleared his throat, trying to restore order. “Everyone—”
A laugh cut through him.
Soft.
Cruel.
A guy near the back—one of the older hunters—covered his mouth like he couldn’t help it. “Sorry,” he said, still smiling. “I just… I can’t believe it was her.”
More laughter answered him, quick and nasty.
My stomach rolled.
Lorraine’s spine stiffened. “Enough,” she snapped.
No one listened.
Because the pack had always wanted permission to be cruel to me out loud. Rowan had just given it to them.
I got to my feet slowly. My hands shook. My dress was rumpled, and hair was falling out of my clip. I looked like a girl who’d been shoved out of a story where she never belonged.
Rowan stood near the stairs now, speaking quietly to Elder Grant like nothing had happened. Like I wasn’t bleeding on the inside.
I took one step.
Then another.
Straight toward him.
Lorraine grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” she whispered urgently.
I pulled free. Not violently. Just… firm.
I had spent my life swallowing things.
Tonight, I wanted him to choke on what he’d done.
The pack parted as I walked, more out of curiosity than respect. Eyes tracked me like I was entertainment. Like they were waiting for me to beg.
My chest hurt with every step, but something else moved beneath it now—something colder than pain.
A click.
A lock turning.
I stopped in front of Rowan.
He looked down at me like I was a problem that wouldn’t go away.
For one second, his eyes flicked to my mouth, like he expected me to plead.
I didn’t.
I kept my voice steady. “Why?”
Rowan’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t a conversation.”
“It is for me,” I said. My voice was quiet, but it carried. The room leaned in.
Rowan’s gaze flicked around, noticing the attention. His shoulders squared. He went Alpha again—mask on, emotions buried.
“This bond is wrong,” he said.
My throat tightened. “Because it chose me?”
Rowan’s eyes hardened. “Because you can’t shift. Because you’re not fit to stand beside me. Because the pack needs a Luna with strength.”
The words were clean and sharp. Like he’d practiced them.
Behind me, Sierra exhaled like she’d been waiting for that exact line.
My chest squeezed.
I nodded slowly, as if I was accepting information in a meeting, not being crushed in front of everyone I’d ever lived with.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Rowan blinked, thrown off by my calm.
I stepped closer, lowering my voice so only he could hear. “But you felt it too.”
Rowan’s eyes flashed.
He didn’t deny it.
He couldn’t.
I saw the truth in the tiniest flicker of tension around his mouth.
I smiled once, small and bitter. “You felt the bond. You just didn’t want the consequences.”
Rowan’s hand twitched at his side. “Watch your tone.”
I leaned in a fraction. “No.”
The word tasted powerful.
Rowan stared at me, shock sliding into something darker.
I whispered, “Your first word to me was no. But my body heard yes.”
Rowan’s nostrils flared. “Elara—”
A fresh surge of pain stabbed my chest, and I sucked in a breath. The bond wasn’t done punishing me for touching him, for challenging him, for daring to exist.
I stepped back, swallowing the pain down.
Rowan’s expression tightened for a heartbeat—something like regret, quickly buried.
He turned his head toward Elder Grant, loud enough for everyone to hear again.
“It’s done,” Rowan said. “The bond is rejected.”
Elder Grant’s face was pale. “Rowan, you know what that means.”
Rowan’s voice stayed cold. “I know.”
I waited.
For him to look at me one last time.
To soften.
To show me he was human.
He didn’t.
He walked away again.
And this time, I didn’t chase him.
I stood there, shaking, while the pack watched me like a wounded animal.
Then the shadow in the far corner of the hallway—the one no one else seemed to notice—moved.
It leaned closer to the light, its pale eyes gleaming.
And it whispered directly into my ear without touching me:
“Good.”
My blood ran cold.
Because whatever it was…
It sounded pleased.
- Writer
