The Rejected Luna's Secret Alpha

Chapter 7

I stared at Xavier, unable to understand why he kept asking me questions about something I barely understood myself.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Think carefully before you answer.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but something about it made the room feel smaller. Xavier Blackthorn was the kind of man who seemed accustomed to receiving answers, not excuses. His golden eyes remained fixed on me, searching for the slightest sign of a lie.

“I was never important to Dorian,” I said quietly. “He knew I was the weakest wolf in our pack. He knew I could barely shift without exhausting myself. If he knew something else about me, he never told me.”

Xavier’s expression hardened.

“And yet your blood awakened the moment you crossed my territory.”

I looked down at my wrist.

The strange silver symbol was gone.

I rubbed my skin, expecting to find some kind of mark beneath it, but there was nothing. No scar. No discoloration. Just my ordinary skin.

“What blood?” I asked.

He noticed my movement.

“Show me your wrist.”

I hesitated before extending my arm.

Xavier took it, his fingers wrapping gently around my wrist. His touch was unexpectedly warm, and I hated the way my heart reacted to something so simple.

He turned my hand toward the light.

Nothing happened.

His jaw tightened.

“Interesting.”

“Could you stop saying things like that and actually explain something to me?”

For the first time, his expression changed.

A faint crease appeared between his brows.

“You’re in no position to make demands, Freya.”

“And you’re the one who brought me here without asking if I wanted to come.”

Silence fell between us.

I immediately regretted speaking. Every instinct I possessed told me that challenging the Lycan King was a terrible idea.

But Xavier didn’t punish me.

Instead, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“Perhaps you’re not as weak as your pack believes.”

“Perhaps you should stop talking about me as if I’m not standing right here.”

This time, he actually smiled.

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but it transformed his face in a way I wasn’t prepared for. The coldness remained in his eyes, yet for one fleeting second, he looked less like a king and more like a man who had just discovered something amusing.

Then the expression disappeared.

“You need rest,” he said. “The physician will examine you again tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t need a physician. I need answers.”

“And you will receive them when I have some worth giving.”

He walked toward the door.

“Your room is yours for as long as you need it. No one in this house will harm you. You have my word.”

I wanted to believe him.

That was the dangerous part.

Dorian had once made promises too.

I watched Xavier leave, and only when the door closed did I realize I had been holding my breath.

For the first time since my eighteenth birthday, I was somewhere no one knew me as the pathetic girl who had been rejected in front of an entire pack.

Here, I was a mystery.

I wasn’t sure that was any better.

But at least it was something.

The next morning, Elara arrived with breakfast and a dress.

The dress was a deep blue, with long sleeves and a simple waist that made it look elegant without being extravagant. Beside it sat a pair of black boots.

“I thought you might prefer something comfortable,” she said.

I touched the fabric.

“Thank you. But I can’t stay here forever.”

Elara gave me a knowing look.

“People often say that before they discover how difficult it is to leave.”

I frowned.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“No, dear. It is supposed to make you eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

Despite myself, I laughed.

It surprised me how much I needed to hear my own laughter. The sound felt unfamiliar after the previous night, as if I had left some part of myself behind in the Bloodmoon Pack.

After breakfast, Elara showed me around the east wing. The mansion was enormous, with polished stone floors, tall windows, and portraits of people who looked as though they had never smiled in their lives.

We passed a set of double doors leading into a grand hall.

Beyond the windows, I could see a training courtyard where warriors practiced with swords and sparred beneath the morning sun.

They moved with a precision I had never witnessed before.

“Blackthorn wolves train every day,” Elara explained. “King Xavier believes strength is a responsibility, not a privilege.”

I watched a warrior throw his opponent to the ground.

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“It does, especially when your king is the strongest Lycan alive.”

I glanced at her.

“Does everyone here fear him?”

Elara considered the question.

“Most people respect him. Some fear him. Very few know him.”

“And you?”

Her expression softened.

“I have worked in this household for twenty years. I know enough to understand that he is not the monster people outside these walls imagine him to be.”