Pregnant For The Alpha Who Rejected Me

Chapter 3: Rejected Before The Pack

The Blood Moon did not rise, but bled into the sky, a deep, angry crimson, turning Moonfang into a nightmare. And its light had coloured all on the grounds of ceremony, and all the packs were assembled in the ceremonies like it was an execution. Soldiers were in flawless, ruthless ranks. The old were seated high in their circle, with unreadable faces. Omegas were pushed to the periphery, and were seen as a shadow that was not supposed to be. Lira was there with them, but she was not only trembling, but disintegrating. Her hands would not cease shaking, her chest aflame, and however much she might beg her body to hush, the connection within her cried out with every beat of her heart.

“Stand still,” the Omega next to her hissed, panic in her voice. “Don’t make them look at you.” Lira sucked in a broken breath. It was too late. Everybody was already gawking. At its very heart stood Alpha Kael Draven, whose ceremonial black garments gave him the appearance of being death itself. His presence strangled the air. The second he stepped forward, every head in the pack dropped– submission, fear, obedience. All of it. “You all know why we’re here,” Kael said, and his voice was winter, sharp enough to draw blood. The tension snapped through the crowd like a whip. Lira's stomach lurched. She knew. God, she knew.

“This ritual,” Kael went on, cold and final, “exists to confirm truth… and eliminate error.” Error. That word was a blade straight through her ribs. That was her. That was this bond. That was all she was and all she felt. “Bring her forward.” The command was thunder, and it broke her before she even moved. She was in seconds in the grip of two guards and their hands were bruising. “No– wait–” she choked, but they did not heed. With each step towards the center she walked to her own funeral, and the whispers began– cruel, eager, hungry. “That is her…” “The Omega…” “She actually thought–” “Disgusting.” Lira was looking down, however, she felt each look like a knife, judging her, stripping her bare, waiting with her to break.

They threw her at the feet of Kael and her knees nearly shook. But she fixed it, forced herself to stand, because in case she was going to break, she was not going to do it on the ground so that they would have to step over it. “Look at me.” His voice was quieter now, but it still owned her. Lira hesitated, heart hammering against her ribs, then lifted her gaze. The second their eyes locked, the bond detonated. She gasped, clutching her chest as fire tore through her, brighter and more violent than ever. The crowd erupted in murmurs. “It's real…” “I can feel it…” “No– how is that possible?” Kael's jaw clenched. He felt it. She knew he did. But his face didn't soften. He stepped closer, so only she could hear him. “Do not speak,” he said, and it was ice water down her spine.

Her lips parted, but nothing came out. Because in his eyes, she saw it– the decision had already been passed. Kael wheeled back to the pack, his face carved from stone and cruelty. “This,” he proclaimed, and his voice, like the breath of a great wind, was heard throughout the grounds, “is a false bond.” The gasps were instant, sharp. Lira’s heart plummeted. “No…” she whispered, but her voice was nothing against the tide. “This Omega,” Kael continued, “stands here under a mistaken connection. One that will be corrected… now.” Corrected? The word was a death sentence. “Alpha — please — ” she tried, louder, desperate.

Kael didn’t even look at her. “Proceed with the severance.” The elders stood, and their chanting started– low, ancient, wrong. It crept upon her flesh, and tugged at something in the depths of her being. “No… no, wait– she cried, panic clawing up her throat. The mark on her chest screamed in response, burning like it was being torn open. This was not what it desired. This was not what she wanted. “Alpha Kael, please!” she cried, with tears blistering her eyes. “You can feel it too! You know it's real!” For one terrifying second, his mask slipped. Something flickered in his eyes — pain, doubt, something. Then it was gone. “Silence,” he said. And that word cut deeper than any blade ever could.

Tears blurred everything. “Why?” she inquired in her voice hiccupping. “Why are you doing this?” Kael's gaze went arctic. “Because I refuse to be bound to weakness.” The words landed like a physical blow, and the whole pack heard it. And just like that, Lira broke. The chanting swelled up till she thought she would go blind at it, and her knees collapsed. But, when she fell to the ground, pain tore her bosom. She screamed– crude, harsh, inhumane– and the sound echoed across the grounds, tearing the night apart.

The bond counter attacked and turned and twisted, and would not die. “It’s reacting!” one of the elders shouted. “Impossible–” The energy was out of control, spinning, out of balance. For the first time, Kael’s eyes widened. Something was not bowing to his demands. Lira was clutching her chest, and sobbing through the pain. “No, it will not… will not break…” she choked. The chanting stuttered. The glow flickered. Then something snapped– not clean, not complete. Something tore, but something else held on, stubborn and alive. Lira collapsed, body shaking, the pain finally draining away to a dull, endless ache.

Silence crashed down, heavy and wrong. One of the elders stepped forward, shaken. “The bond…” they said, voice unsteady, “...it has been rejected– but not severed.” Unease rippled through the crowd like a disease. Kael stood frozen, his eyes locked on Lira's broken body. Alive. Still there. Still his, whether he wanted it or not. His jaw tightened until she thought it might crack. “Remove her,” he ordered, and his voice was made of frost. The guards moved fast. Lira didn't fight. She couldn't.

As she was dragged off her vision swam and her body was lead but one thing burned in her mind, terrifying and absolute: the tie was not loosened. And whatever it was, whatever it bore, was yet alive within her. Kael did not move behind her, under that bleeding moon. He appeared to be shaken, untouchable. But inside, something had started– something dark and dangerous and irreversible. And neither of them knew yet that the worst was still coming.