After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Found My Wolf

The smoke hit me first—thick, acrid, and suffocating. I jolted awake, my lungs already burning as I struggled to make sense of the darkness. The air was too hot, too wrong.

"Fire!" someone screamed from the hallway. "Everyone out!"

My heart hammered against my ribs as I threw off my blankets, stumbling toward the door. The corridor outside my room was already filling with smoke, orange flames licking at the walls. I could hear glass cracking from the heat, the wooden beams groaning overhead.

"Ethan!" I screamed, spotting his tall figure in the hallway. He turned, his face illuminated by the dancing flames, and for one hopeful moment, our eyes met.

I reached for him, choking on the words. "Help me!"

He took a step toward me, then froze. His head snapped to the side, drawn by a soft moan that cut through the chaos.

Michaela Sanders sat crumpled against the wall, her delicate hand clutching her ankle. "Ethan," she whimpered, her voice carrying that musical quality that always made my stomach twist. "I can't walk."

I saw it happen—the way Ethan's entire body tensed, the way his nostrils flared as he caught her scent. The mate bond pulling him like a physical force.

"Ethan, please!" I cried, but he was already moving.

"I've got you," he murmured to Michaela, scooping her into his arms with a tenderness I'd never seen him show me. Not once in five years.

"Ethan!" My voice broke as he turned away. "What about me?"

He glanced back, his expression unreadable through the smoke. "You'll be fine. Find another way out."

Another way out. As if escaping a burning building was as simple as choosing a different door.

The beam above me groaned louder, and I stumbled backward just as it crashed down, sending sparks flying. The flames roared, swallowing the path to Ethan and Michaela. They were already gone.

I was alone.

The smoke was thicker now, burning my eyes and filling my lungs until each breath was agony. I dropped to my knees, crawling along the floor where the air was slightly clearer.

"There's a window in the bathroom," I whispered to myself, trying to remember the layout of the pack house.

The heat was unbearable as I inched forward, my palms scraping against broken glass and splintered wood. My nightgown caught on something, tearing as I pulled free. Finally, I found the bathroom doorway.

The window was small, designed more for ventilation than escape, but it was my only hope. I smashed it with a chair, shards of glass raining down on my arms and face. Blood mixed with soot and tears as I clawed at the opening.

"Please," I begged the Moon Goddess, "please let me survive this."

With one final, desperate push, I squeezed through the window, glass cutting deeper into my skin. I tumbled onto the lawn below, my body hitting the ground hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.

For a moment, I just lay there,