Alpha, I Refuse You

CHAPTER ONE — THE REJECTION Isolde Rivenhart’s POV “I, Isolde Rivenhart, reject you, Alpha Ronan Blackvale, as my mate.” There. I said it. The words tasted like rust and ash on my tongue, but I didn’t falter. I held his gaze, even as the weight of what I’d done began to settle in my chest like stone. The clearing went quiet in a way that didn’t feel natural. No wind. No birdsong. Just silence, thick and watching. Ronan stood in front of me, the edge of the ceremonial platform casting a long shadow across his boots. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. For one terrifying second, I wondered if I’d somehow broken something in him that wouldn’t fix. “You… what?” His voice was low. Too low. “You heard me.” My tone was flat, but my hands clenched behind my back. I didn’t trust them not to shake. “I must’ve misunderstood,” he said. “Say it again.” “Don’t make me.” His jaw twitched. Just once. “This isn’t funny, Isolde.” “I’m not laughing.” He stepped forward, and I nearly flinched. Not because I was afraid of him—but because I remembered too well what it felt like to love him. That closeness had once been safety. Now it felt like a cage. “You’re rejecting me?” he said again, more quietly this time. “Yes.” A few gasps broke from the wolves gathered behind us. I didn’t look at them. I couldn’t. “You’re my fated mate,” Ronan said, as if reminding me. “The Moon Goddess chose you. You’re the Luna of this pack.” “No,” I said. “I’m not.” He stared at me like I’d torn the earth from under his feet. “You’re serious.” “I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t.” He opened his mouth. Closed it. For a heartbeat, he looked less like the fierce, composed Alpha everyone feared and more like a man who didn’t know what just hit him. “You waited until today?” he asked. “Until the whole pack gathered—to do this?” “I waited because I needed to be sure.” I paused. “And because I needed you to hear it without trying to talk over me.” There was a flash of something in his eyes then—hurt, maybe. But it disappeared before I could name it. “Everything I’ve done,” he said. “Every sacrifice, every decision—was for us. You think you’re walking away like a hero, but you’re just a coward.” “No,” I said quietly. “I’m finally brave enough to stop lying.” He didn’t answer. Just stared, eyes unreadable, like he was memorizing my face so he’d know exactly what to hate. I turned away before I could crumble. --- By the time I reached the tree line, my lungs were burning. I didn’t shift. My wolf was silent—like she didn’t know how to feel now that the bond was gone. I stayed in human form and walked fast, the wind whipping at my cloak, the scent of pine and frost burning in my nose. Every step away from him felt like peeling off a layer of skin. But I kept walking. The trees grew denser. The noise of the ceremony faded behind me, swallowed by the hush of the forest. Dusk bled into night. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. --- I crossed Bloodvale’s border just after midnight. No patrols followed me. No one dared. Not because they respected my decision—but because they didn’t know how to react to it. A Luna walking out was unheard of. I wasn’t sure where I was going. Only that I couldn’t go back. And Ronan wouldn’t come after me. Not yet. He was too proud. That thought gave me about fifteen minutes of peace before the ache set in. It didn’t feel like heartbreak. It felt like withdrawal—like a part of me had been carved out, and the hollow it left behind was echoing with his voice. I found a quiet spot by the river, sat on a fallen log, and let myself breathe. Then I cried. Not the kind of crying I could stop. Not the kind I could control. Just hot, messy, helpless tears that came from a place so deep I didn’t even know it existed until tonight. I had imagined it would feel like freedom. Instead, it felt like grieving someone who wasn’t even dead. --- I don’t know how long I sat there. Eventually, when the stars had shifted and the air grew colder, I wiped my face and started walking again. I kept my head down, my scent muted, and my presence small. When I finally reached the mountain trail that led toward Silverpine, I hesitated. That territory was enemy ground. But at least there, I wasn’t Ronan’s. --- Silverpine patrols didn’t ask questions at first. They surrounded me before I even smelled them coming. I didn’t fight. When they circled in, their Alpha’s name already burning in their thoughts, I raised my hands. “I’m not here to fight.” “Then what are you doing here?” the one in front asked, stepping forward. “I need asylum.” His eyes narrowed. “From who?” “From Bloodvale.” He sniffed the air. “You’re their Luna.” “Not anymore.” That made him pause. “You rejected him?” “Yes.” A short silence. Then, to my surprise, the man nodded. “Follow me.” --- Thorne Alaric didn’t look like a man who needed to say much to be heard. He stood with the stillness of someone who knew exactly how far he could go in any direction and still win. Dark-haired, sharp-jawed, and colder than the mountain wind, he watched me enter his war room with a gaze that didn’t waver. “I didn’t expect Ronan Blackvale’s mate to show up at my door,” he said. “You and me both.” “You rejected him?” “Yes.” His brow ticked up a fraction. “You know what that means.” “I know what I gave up.” “And what about what you’re asking for?” “Not protection,” I said. “Just space.” He studied me. Not like Ronan used to—hungry, possessive—but like he was trying to figure out what kind of damage I carried and how close it was to exploding. “You’ll follow my rules.” “Of course.” “No interfering in our business.” “Understood.” “And no lies.” I looked him straight in the eyes. “I don’t have any left.” For the first time, something almost like a smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Then welcome to Silverpine,” he said. --- The room they gave me was bare—stone walls, a narrow bed, one window facing the forest. But it was mine. No guards at the door. No silken leash disguised as comfort. Just solitude. I liked it more than I should’ve. Still, the first night, I barely slept. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like Ronan’s footsteps. Every gust of wind felt like his scent chasing me down. But he didn’t come. That was the worst part. Not the silence. The not knowing what came next. --- Days passed. I kept to myself, training with Silverpine’s warriors when they allowed it, staying sharp, quiet, useful. I helped in the infirmary, kept my ears open, made myself small. But Thorne noticed. He always did. Once, in the training yard, he tossed me a blade I hadn’t asked for. “You fight like someone who wants to bleed,” he said. I caught it without looking. “And you lead like someone who’s tired of watching others do it wrong.” He tilted his head. “You’re not afraid of me.” “No.” “Why?” “Because I know what real fear feels like,” I said. “It doesn’t look like you.” That earned me a nod. Just one. But it felt like a door creaking open. --- On the seventh night, I woke up screaming. The dream was vivid—Ronan’s voice in my head, his hands on my shoulders, the bond snapping back like a whip, dragging me down into fire. I sat bolt upright, sweat freezing on my skin. There was a knock on my door. Thorne. He didn’t come in. Just leaned against the frame. “You good?” I couldn’t answer right away. My throat burned. My hands shook. “I’m not sure yet,” I finally said. “Let me know if that changes.” Then he walked away. --- A week later, I met the witch. Her name was Serelai. Thorne sent for her when I asked if there was a way to break the bond entirely—soul-deep, not just ceremonial. She looked at me like I was broken glass. “You already rejected him,” she said. “And still feel him?” “Not always,” I admitted. “But enough to know he’s not finished.” She nodded once. “Then let’s finish it for him.” The ritual was ugly. Not beautiful. Not sacred. Just blood and breath and memory peeling away. I screamed. I saw every moment I’d spent with him—the first time our eyes locked, the first time he kissed me, the night I thought he might actually love me for who I was—and I let them go, one by one, until there was nothing left. When it ended, I collapsed. Serelai didn’t catch me. Thorne did. He didn’t say a word. Just held me until the shaking stopped. --- I slept for two days. And when I woke up, I knew. The bond was gone. No whispers. No pull. No ache where he used to be. Just silence. Real, quiet, glorious silence. I got dressed. Tied my hair back. Stepped outside into the cold. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like anyone’s. I felt like mine.