After My Alpha Rejected Me, I Rose

The scent of blood hit me first—metallic and sharp, cutting through the crisp night air. My heart seized in my chest as I watched Luna Eleanor being carried through the pack house doors, her silver hair matted with crimson, her usually vibrant face ashen.

"Get the healer!" I screamed, my voice cracking as I rushed forward. Two Delta warriors supported Eleanor's limp form, their expressions grim. "What happened?"

"Rogue attack at the northern border," one muttered, avoiding my gaze. "The Luna was conducting her monthly patrol when they ambushed her."

Lyra, my wolf, whimpered inside me. *Something's wrong. This isn't a normal attack.*

I helped them lay Eleanor on the examination table in the medicine chamber. Her breathing came in shallow gasps, each one seeming more labored than the last. The wounds across her torso were deep, but there was something else—a strange, sickly sweet odor emanating from them that made Lyra restless.

"Hold on," I whispered, gripping Eleanor's cold hand. "The healer is coming."

Her eyes fluttered open, recognition dawning in her gaze. "Aria," she breathed, her voice barely audible. "My dear girl."

"Don't speak," I pleaded, tears blurring my vision. "Save your strength."

Eleanor's fingers tightened around mine with surprising force. "Listen to me," she rasped. "You must... be strong. The path ahead... is difficult, but you... you were always meant for more..."

"Where's Elara?" I demanded, looking frantically toward the door for the pack healer. "She needs treatment now!"

One of the warriors shook his head. "Elara says she needs special herbs for these wounds. They're... different. Poisoned, maybe."

Panic surged through me. Eleanor needed immediate help—the kind only an Alpha could authorize. I closed my eyes, steeling myself for what I knew would be a painful interaction.

*Marcus,* I called through our mind-link, the connection thin and brittle from years of neglect. *Your mother is gravely injured. Rogues attacked her at the border. She needs immediate treatment—special resources from the pack stores.*

The silence stretched, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't respond. Then his voice cut through my mind, cold and dismissive.

*I'm in a meeting with the neighboring Alpha. This is hardly the emergency you're making it out to be. Mother has survived worse.*

*Marcus, please,* I begged, desperation clawing at my throat. *This is different. The wounds are poisoned. Elara needs access to the rare healing herbs in your private stores.*

*Absolutely not,* he snarled, his anger rippling through our fragile connection. *Those resources are allocated for emergencies that affect the entire pack, not minor skirmishes. Handle it with what you have.*

The mind-link severed abruptly, leaving me gasping from the force of his rejection. Beside me, Eleanor's breathing grew more labored, her skin taking on a grayish tint.

"He won't help," I whispered, more to myself than to the warriors standing anxiously nearby. "He won't release the resources."

*We don't need him,* Lyra growled, her presence strengthening within me. *We'll save her ourselves.*

I straightened my shoulders. "Help me get her