Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King

Chapter 16: Distance and Doubt

I didn't leave my room for two days.

Food appeared outside my door—brought by silent staff who knew better than to knock. Through the bond, I could feel Marcus's constant presence, his worry, his guilt. But he didn't try to force his way in. Didn't demand I speak to him.

The restraint somehow made it worse.

On the third morning, I finally emerged. Not because I'd forgiven anyone, but because hiding wasn't who I was anymore. I was done being the girl who ran and hid.

The estate felt different. Quieter. The staff moved carefully around me, like I was made of glass.

I found Caleb in the kitchen, drinking coffee. He looked up when I entered, relief flooding his face.

"Emma. Thank God. Marcus has been losing his mind."

"Where is he?"

"In his study. He's been there since..." Caleb gestured vaguely. "Since you locked yourself away. Won't eat, barely sleeps. Just works and stares at your door."

Guilt twisted in my stomach, but I pushed it down. "Good."

Caleb's eyebrows rose. "That's cold."

"Is it?" I poured myself coffee, hands steady even though my insides were churning. "He admitted it, Caleb. That he was drawn to my power first. That he wanted to understand what I was. How is that different from everyone else using me?"

"Because what drew him in isn't what made him stay," Caleb said firmly. "Emma, I've known Marcus for fifteen years. I've seen him with dozens of women—politicalmatches, casual flings, even that disaster with Selene. He's never looked at any of them the way he looks at you."

"Maybe he's a good actor."

"He's really not." Caleb set down his mug. "Look, I get it. Your father dropped a bomb, and Marcus's answer wasn't perfect. But you're punishing him for being honest about a truth you already knew."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Emma, you're a Royal Lycan. The first in centuries. Of course that matters. Of course it caught his attention. You think he would have tracked down some random rejected Omega who was feeling sad? No. He investigated because you're powerful and rare and important." Caleb leaned forward. "But he fell for you because you're fierce and strong and refuse to be a victim. The question isn't whether your bloodline matters. It's whether that's all that matters to him."

"And you think it's not?"

"I know it's not. Because I've watched him choose you over council meetings, delay important calls to have breakfast with you, risk political relationships to defend you. The Lycan King doesn't do that for political pieces, Emma. He does it for the woman he's falling in love with."

The words landed like a physical blow. Love. Was that what this was?

"I need to train," I said, changing the subject. "Can we spar?"

Caleb sighed but stood. "Sure. Let's beat the feelings out."

We trained hard. I pushed my body to exhaustion, trying to outrun my thoughts. It didn't work. Every move Caleb taught me, I remembered Marcus teaching me first. Every technique was tied to memories of his hands correcting my stance, his voice praising my progress, his smile when I finally got it right.

After an hour, Caleb called a break.

"You're distracted. Sloppy."

"I'm fine."

"You're miserable." He tossed me a water bottle. "And more importantly, you're being a coward."

I stiffened. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're hiding behind righteous anger because you're scared. Emma Clarke, who faced down her mate's rejection, who left her pack, who stood up to a room full of Alphas—she's being a coward about feelings."

"I'm not scared—"

"Yes, you are. You're terrified that Marcus might actually love you, because if he does and you let yourself believe it, and then it turns out to be fake, it'll destroy you worse than Damien's rejection ever did." Caleb's expression gentled. "But Emma, that's the risk of loving someone. You can't know for certain. You have to take a leap of faith."

"What if I fall?"

"Then I'll catch you. Marcus will catch you. Hell, half the pack will catch you at this point—you've won them over." He smiled. "But I don't think you'll fall. I think if you actually talk to Marcus, actually listen to what he's trying to tell you, you'll find solid ground."

Before I could respond, the training room door burst open.

One of Marcus's guards—the name was Chen, I thought—stood there, breathing hard.

"Miss Clarke. The estate is under attack."

Every thought fled. "What?"

"Rogues. Twenty, maybe more. They breached the north perimeter." Chen looked at Caleb. "The King wants Emma in the safe room immediately."

"Like hell," I said. "Where's Marcus?"

"On the north lawn, holding them off with the guards. But Miss Clarke, he gave specific orders—"

I was already running.

Caleb cursed and followed. "Emma, wait—"

"No." I burst through the estate doors into chaos.

Wolves everywhere—Marcus's guards in formation, facing down a pack of rogues. The rogues were wild-looking, desperate. Dangerous.

And in the center of it all, a massive black wolf with golden eyes, fighting three rogues at once.

Marcus.

My wolf snarled, furious that our mate was in danger. Before I could think, I shifted, silver fur rippling across my skin.

The transformation was instant, perfect. I launched myself into the fray.

A rogue turned toward me, snarling. I didn't hesitate—Caleb's training kicked in. I feinted left, dodged his lunge, and tore into his flank. Not fatal, but enough to take him out of the fight.

Two more came at me. I met them head-on.

Through the bond, I felt Marcus's shock, then his fury. His voice in my mind: Emma, get back inside!

Not a chance. We're in this together.

I fought beside him, and despite the chaos, despite everything between us, we moved like one being. When he went high, I went low. When I needed an opening, he created it. The bond sang between us, connecting us in a way that went beyond words.

Within minutes, it was over. The rogues retreated or surrendered. We'd won.

I shifted back to human, breathing hard. Marcus did the same.

He looked at me across the battlefield, blood on his face, fury and relief warring in his eyes.

"You could have been killed," he said, voice rough.

"So could you."

"I'm trained for this. You—"

"I can fight." I moved closer, anger rising. "Stop trying to protect me from everything. I'm not fragile. I'm not the weak Omega you found in that park anymore."

"I know that." He closed the distance between us. "But that doesn't mean I can turn off the instinct to keep you safe. Emma, when I saw you in danger, when I felt you fighting through the bond—"

"You felt what I feel every time you're in danger," I interrupted. "Welcome to having a mate, Marcus. It's terrifying."

We stood there, both filthy and bleeding, staring at each other.

"We need to talk," he said finally.

"Yes. We do."

"My study. Twenty minutes. Get cleaned up first."

It wasn't a request. But for once, I didn't argue.

Because Caleb was right. I was being a coward. And it was time to face this—face us—head-on.

Even if it broke my heart in the process.