The Alpha King's Rejected Mate.

Chapter 2: Claimed By A Stranger.

The rain didn’t care that I was dying.

It fell cold and heavy, washing the blood from my hands and the shame from my skin. But it couldn’t wash away the dead mark on my chest. It couldn’t wash away the sound of his voice.

_I reject you, Lyra Hale._

My knees were buried in mud now. The white dress clung to me, soaked and ruined. Just like me.

The pack house gates towered behind me, gold light spilling from the windows. I could hear them inside. Music. Laughter. The celebration for Selene. My replacement.

Astra was silent. My wolf had gone completely dark after Darius snapped the bond. It was like half of me was gone. Like I was half-blind, half-deaf. Hollow.

"Get up," I whispered to myself. "Get up, Lyra."

But I couldn’t. What was the point? Omegas without mates were nothing. Omegas rejected by their Alpha King were less than nothing. By morning, the whole territory would know. By next week, I’d be begging for scraps outside pack borders.

The Moon Goddess made a mistake.

The words echoed with every drop of rain.

Something moved in the trees.

My head snapped up. Too late. Too slow. Three shadows stepped out from the dark. Rogue wolves. I could smell it on them. No pack scent. Just blood and rot and hunger.

They circled me. Grinning.

"Well well," the biggest one said. His teeth were yellow. "Look what the Alpha threw out. The rejected omega."

They knew. Of course they knew. News traveled fast when it was humiliating.

The second one licked his lips. "Alpha King won’t want you now. So we can have some fun, can’t we?"

Fear shot through me, sharp and cold. But under it, something else. Anger.

I was an omega. I was rejected. But I wasn’t dead yet.

I tried to stand. My legs gave out. The rain made the mud slippery.

The first rogue grabbed my arm. His claws dug into my skin. "Let’s take her somewhere private. The woods. The Alpha won’t hear her scream."

I opened my mouth to scream anyway. To fight. To do something.

That’s when the air changed.

The temperature dropped 10 degrees. The rain stopped mid-air, like it was afraid to fall.

A presence. Massive. Ancient. Predatory.

The rogues froze. "What the—"

"Let her go."

The voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It rolled over the clearing like thunder and made my bones vibrate.

The rogue holding me let go instantly. He stumbled back, eyes wide.

Standing at the edge of the tree line was a man.

He was tall. Taller than Darius. Shoulders that looked carved from stone. Black coat soaked through but he didn’t seem to feel it. Black hair dripping over a face that could’ve been carved by gods and demons both. Sharp jaw. High cheekbones. And eyes.

Silver. Not gray. Silver. Like liquid moonlight. Like the moon itself was looking at me.

On the side of his neck, half-hidden by his collar, was a mark. A wolf. But not like Darius’s. This wolf had no crown. It had horns. And eyes that glowed red.

A Lycan.

The rogues were shaking now. "L-Lycan King," the first one stammered. "We didn’t know she was—"

"Yours?" The man tilted his head. His gaze never left me. "She isn’t anyone’s. Yet."

The word _yet_ did something to me. My heart stuttered.

The Lycan King took one step forward. The rogues scrambled back, tripping over each other to run into the woods. They didn’t even look back.

Silence. Just rain again.

He walked to me. Each step deliberate. Each step making the ground tremble. He stopped in front of me. I was still on my knees in the mud, shaking.

He crouched down. He smelled like storms. Like ozone and pine and something dark and wild I didn’t have a name for.

His hand came up. I flinched. He didn’t touch me. He just brushed wet hair from my face with two fingers. Gentle. Like I was made of glass.

"Lyra Hale," he said. My name. He knew my name. "The Alpha King rejected you."

It wasn’t a question.

I couldn’t speak. I just nodded. Once. Shame burning my face.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "How... interesting."

He said it like it was a puzzle. Like Darius rejecting me was the funniest joke he’d heard in 100 years.

"The bond snapped?" he asked softly.

I nodded again. Tears mixed with rain on my face. "It’s... it’s dead."

He reached out then. His hand hovered over my chest, over the scar where the mark had been. I could feel heat from his palm without him touching me.

The scar burned. Not with pain. With warmth.

"Yes," he murmured. "Dead."

Something flickered in those silver eyes. Satisfaction? Pity? I couldn’t tell.

He stood up in one smooth motion and offered me his hand. Big. Scarred across the knuckles. A king’s hand. But not the king I’d wanted.

"Can you stand?"

I stared at his hand. If I took it, I was leaving. If I took it, I was choosing something. Someone.

If I didn’t take it, I was dying here.

I put my shaking hand in his.

His grip was warm. Strong. He pulled me up like I weighed nothing. I swayed and he caught me around the waist with his other arm. Didn’t let go.

"You’re freezing," he said.

"I’m fine," I lied.

"You’re not." His voice was rough. "The Alpha King rejected you. On your mating night. In front of your pack. That kind of wound doesn’t heal with time, little omega."

Little omega. The words should’ve insulted me. From him, they didn’t.

"Why are you here?" I whispered. "Why did you save me?"

He looked down at me. Rain ran down his face but he didn’t blink. "Because the Moon Goddess doesn’t make mistakes, Lyra."

My breath caught.

"And because," he continued, thumb brushing over my muddy knuckles, "if he doesn’t want you... then I claim you."

The world tilted.

"What?" The word came out as a squeak.

"I claim you," he said again, louder. Final. "By right of rejection. By right of Lycan law. The mate bond between you and Darius Blackwood is void. Which means you are free."

Free. The word sounded foreign.

"Which means," his silver eyes burned, "you are mine to claim. If you want it."

Want it? I’d wanted a mate for 5 years. But not like this. Not as a rebound. Not as a pity claim.

"I... I don’t even know your name," I said stupidly.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Kael. King Kael Virek of the Northern Lycans."

Kael. King. Lycan King.

The most feared male in all the territories. The one mothers used to scare pups. The one Darius had gone to war with 3 years ago and barely survived.

He wanted to claim me. The rejected omega.

"Why me?" I asked. "You could have anyone."

"Because you’re still standing," Kael said simply. "Because you didn’t beg. Because when he threw you away like trash, you didn’t break. Not all the way."

His hand came up again. This time he did touch me. Two fingers under my chin, lifting my face to his.

"You have fight in you, Lyra Hale. Even now. I can see it."

My chest hurt. But different than before. Not the tearing pain of rejection. This was... hope. Dangerous, stupid hope.

"I don’t know if I can—" I started.

"You don’t have to decide now," he cut me off. "But you are coming with me. You cannot stay here. Not tonight. Not after what he did."

He was right. If I stayed, Selene would make sure I didn’t see next moon.

Kael pulled his black coat off and draped it over my shoulders. It was huge. It smelled like him. Like safety and danger all at once.

"Hold on," he said.

Before I could ask, he swept me up into his arms. Bridal style. Like I was precious. Like I was wanted.

I should’ve fought. I should’ve said no.

But I was so tired. And his arms were warm. And for the first time tonight, I didn’t feel alone.

As he turned to walk into the woods, I looked back one last time at the pack house.

Gold light. Music. Darius’s laughter.

Kael followed my gaze. His jaw tightened. "He’ll regret this," he said quietly. Only for me. "Every day for the rest of his life."

Then he carried me into the dark.

The rain followed us.