5 – The King’s Rejection
1127 Words
The courtyard still hadn’t recovered from the shock.
Silence pressed down on every guard, every soldier, every noble who had rushed outside when they felt the sudden shift in the air.
Because something impossible had just happened.
The Lycan King had found his mate.
And she was standing right in front of him.
Elara could barely breathe.
The bond between them still pulsed violently in her chest, like a living thing trying to break free. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides, and her knees felt weak beneath her.
But she didn’t fall.
Something inside her refused to.
Across from her, King Alaric stood perfectly still.
Too still.
His golden eyes were locked on her like she was the only thing in the world that existed… and the only thing he could not afford to accept.
His wolf was screaming inside him.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
Louder than anything he had ever heard.
But Alaric had survived betrayal once.
And that pain had taught him something cruel.
Fate could be wrong.
He took a slow step back.
Then another.
The distance between them widened.
Elara’s chest tightened instantly, as if the bond itself was being pulled apart.
“No…” she whispered without realizing.
Alaric heard her.
Something flickered in his eyes—pain. Real, raw pain.
But it disappeared just as quickly.
Because he hardened himself again.
“Step forward,” Marcus whispered urgently from the side, clearly alarmed. “My king, it is confirmed. The bond—”
“I know what it is,” Alaric cut him off sharply.
His voice was cold again.
Too cold.
Elara flinched slightly.
That voice didn’t belong to the man she felt pulling at her soul.
That voice belonged to a king who had already decided to shut the door.
Alaric finally spoke, his voice carrying across the courtyard.
“You are mistaken.”
The words hit harder than a physical strike.
Elara blinked.
“…What?”
The bond inside her surged painfully, reacting to his rejection.
Alaric’s jaw tightened.
He hated this.
He hated her standing there, looking at him like that—like she could feel him too.
Like she believed this meant something good.
“I said,” he repeated slowly, “you are mistaken.”
A wave of confusion spread through the crowd.
Marcus stepped forward. “Your Majesty—she is your mate. The bond reacted clearly. Every wolf here felt it.”
Alaric turned his head slightly.
And for a brief second, the entire courtyard felt his pressure drop like a storm about to explode.
“Silence.”
One word.
The entire courtyard froze.
Even Marcus stopped speaking.
Alaric turned back to Elara.
His gaze was sharper now. Controlled. Dangerous.
“You will return to the healers’ quarters,” he said flatly. “Your presence here is no longer required.”
Elara stared at him.
Her heart pounded violently.
“No longer required?”
The bond between them pulsed again, stronger—almost desperate now.
Her voice shook, but she forced it out.
“You felt it too.”
A beat of silence.
Too long.
Then Alaric answered.
“I felt nothing.”
Lies.
The bond screamed against it.
Elara’s eyes widened slightly as the truth slammed into her chest.
He was lying.
Not just to her.
But to himself.
A sharp pain suddenly shot through her chest—sharp enough to make her gasp.
The bond.
It was rejecting her.
Or being forced away.
She stumbled half a step.
“Stop…” she whispered, more to the bond than to him. “Why does it hurt like this?”
Alaric’s fingers curled slightly at his side.
He saw it.
He saw her pain.
And for a moment—just a moment—his control cracked.
His wolf surged forward violently.
GO TO HER.
His chest tightened.
He took one step forward—
Then stopped himself so abruptly the stone beneath his feet cracked slightly.
No.
Not again.
He would not lose control again.
He would not trust fate again.
He spoke again, quieter this time—but colder.
“This bond means nothing.”
The words landed like death.
Elara went still.
The courtyard felt like it stopped breathing.
Even the wind seemed to freeze.
Elara’s silver eyes slowly lifted to his face.
And in that moment, something inside her shifted.
The warmth that had been calling to him…
The pull…
The softness…
It twisted.
Hurt turned into something sharper.
Something dangerous.
Her voice came out quieter.
But steadier.
“Nothing?”
Alaric didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
Because if he spoke again, he might break.
Elara took a small step forward.
The bond flared violently between them.
Pain and power collided in her chest.
But she didn’t stop.
“You felt it,” she said again, voice trembling with emotion she refused to hide now. “I felt it too. Every part of me knows what you are to me.”
Her hands clenched slightly.
“And you stand there… and call it nothing?”
A ripple of tension spread through the courtyard.
No one had ever spoken to the Lycan King like that.
Not and lived comfortably afterward.
Alaric’s eyes darkened.
Dangerously.
“You do not understand what you are speaking about,” he said lowly.
Elara let out a bitter breath.
“No,” she replied softly. “I think I understand perfectly.”
She lifted her head fully now, meeting his gaze without fear.
“I am the mistake you do not want to accept.”
That sentence hit him harder than any blade ever could.
For a split second—
The king didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t speak.
Something inside his chest twisted painfully.
His wolf howled.
But then—
Alaric turned away sharply.
“Take her away,” he ordered coldly.
The guards hesitated.
“No one touches me,” Elara said immediately, her voice cutting through them.
They froze again.
Even Alaric paused at her tone.
Something in it had changed.
Not softness anymore.
Not confusion.
Something stronger.
Wounded pride… and awakening power.
The bond between them pulsed one more time—
Then cracked painfully.
Elara pressed a hand to her chest as a sharp wave of emotional pain hit her.
But she didn’t cry.
She didn’t break.
She only looked at him.
And whispered the truth he refused to face.
“You may reject me…”
Her voice trembled slightly.
“…but you cannot erase what I felt.”
Alaric didn’t turn back.
But his hands tightened.
So hard his claws almost emerged.
And for the first time in years…
The Lycan King realized something terrifying.
Rejecting her…
Was hurting him too.
- Writer
