Rejected by the Alpha Marked by Fate

I stood in the center of the grand hall, unseen, unheard nothing more than a shadow cast by the towering presence of my father, Alpha Alaric. The air buzzed with excitement, but none of it was for me. Warriors laughed, exchanging stories of conquest. The council discussed alliances, voices dripping with self-importance. Omegas scurried between them, their hands full with pitchers of wine and plates of roasted venison. I was invisible. I should have been used to it by now. Should have accepted the way my pack treated me as if I didn’t exist, as if my presence was nothing more than an inconvenience. But tonight, of all nights, the weight of it pressed harder against my ribs, making it difficult to breathe. Because tonight was supposed to be about me. Tomorrow, I would stand beside Valtor, bound to him before the Moon Goddess. He had chosen me, despite my weakness. And still, not a single glance was spared in my direction. Not a single acknowledgment that I, Thalia of Frostbourne, would soon be the mate of the most powerful Alpha in the Thornveil pack. I clenched my fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. The pain was grounding. At the head of the table, my father drank deeply from his goblet, his eyes never meeting mine. His expression was one of contentment, as if the past months of my betrothal had been nothing more than a temporary inconvenience he was eager to be rid of. He hadn’t given me away with pride. He had given me away to remove me from his sight. “Thalia.” His voice, thick with the weight of wine and indifference, barely carried over the noise of the hall. I straightened, hoping for something anything but the command in his tone was clear. “Go check on the preparations.” Dismissed. Just like that. I bit back the bitter words on my tongue and turned away, my heart a cold, hollow thing in my chest. The preparation chamber was suffocating with the scent of fresh linens and lavender oil. The maids flitted around the room, their voices hushed as they adjusted the fabric of my ceremonial gown. I let them work, staring at my reflection in the polished bronze mirror. The gown was beautiful deep silver, embroidered with the symbol of Frostbourne but it felt foreign against my skin. A reminder of a legacy that had never truly been mine. “You look very beautiful,” Valtor’s voice rumbled from behind me. I turned sharply, my pulse quickening at the sight of him. He stood in the doorway, his broad frame shadowing the light from the corridor. The contrast between us was stark his dark, commanding presence against the fragile elegance forced upon me. His eyes piercing and unreadable held mine as he stepped closer. The maids scattered, leaving us alone. “More like a pawn,” I muttered. Valtor’s lips curled into a smirk. “A pawn doesn’t make a king desperate.” His fingers brushed my waist, a touch that sent a shiver down my spine. There was something possessive in the way he held me, something raw and unyielding. Unlike the others, he never looked through me. He saw me. “You are not a pawn,” he said, voice softer now. “You are mine.” A shuddering breath escaped me. He always did this unraveled me with so little effort. Valtor’s grip tightened, his forehead pressing against mine. “Tell me you want this.” I hesitated. Not because I doubted my feelings for him, but because I feared the power he had over me. Valtor was ruthless. Dangerous. The kind of man who would burn the world for what he considered his. And somehow, I had become that. “I want this,” I whispered. His mouth crashed against mine. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t patient. It was a claim, a warning, a vow. When he pulled away, his thumb brushed my lower lip, his silver-gray eyes with a hunger that sent heat curling low in my stomach. “No one here deserves you, Thalia. But I do.” A knock on the door shattered the moment. I exhaled sharply as Valtor straightened, his expression hardening. One of his warriors stood at the threshold, his face tense. “My lord,” the man said, voice grim. “It’s Adrian. He’s sent a word. You need to see this in private.” Valtor’s jaw clenched, and just like that, the warmth between us vanished, replaced by something colder. More concerned. I stepped forward, but Valtor’s hand came up, stopping me. “Stay here.” I frowned. “Valtor” “Stay. I’ll handle it.” And then he was gone, his heavy steps echoing down the corridor, leaving me alone in the silence of my gilded cage.