Pregnant and Rejected by My Fated Alpha Mate

The Grand Hall of the Dark Moon Pack smelled of pine, roasted meat, and the heavy, electric scent of anticipation. Hundreds of eyes watched me as I walked toward the dais, the silk of my white ceremonial gown whispering against the stone floor. This was it. The moment I had prepared for since I was a child. The moment I would finally become Luna.

At the end of the aisle stood Jonas. My Alpha. My mate.

He looked devastatingly handsome in his formal black suit, his dark hair swept back, revealing the strong line of his jaw. But it was his eyes that held me captive—golden and burning with the same fierce love that thumped a chaotic rhythm against my ribs. My wolf, usually calm and composed, was pacing excitedly in my mind, yipping at the sight of him. *Mate. Finally, Mate.*

Ten years. We had been fated for ten years, waiting for the right moment, for the pack to be stable, for us to be ready. Today was supposed to be the beginning of our forever.

I reached the dais, and Jonas took my hands. His grip was warm, solid. The grounding force I had relied on for a decade.

"You look beautiful, Leslie," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "My Luna."

"And you look like trouble, Alpha," I teased softly, squeezing his hands. My heart felt so full I thought it might burst.

Elder Cordelia Blackwood, the head of the Alpha Council, stepped forward, her ancient voice echoing through the silent hall. "We gather here under the gaze of the Moon Goddess to witness the union of Alpha Jonas Black and his fated mate, Leslie Hamilton. Two souls, one destiny."

The crowd held its breath. The air crackled with power. This was the most sacred ritual in our world—the Marking. Once his teeth pierced the skin of my neck, our souls would be irrevocably bound, our scents merged, our minds open to one another forever.

Jonas stepped closer, his gaze intense. He brushed a stray lock of hair from my neck, his fingers trembling slightly. I tilted my head to the side, baring my throat to him in the ultimate sign of trust and submission. I closed my eyes, waiting for the sharp, sweet sting that would claim me as his.

I felt his breath against my skin. His lips grazed my pulse.

And then, he froze.

The warmth of his body turned rigid. A low growl rumbled in his chest, but it wasn't a sound of passion. It was distress. Confusion.

I opened my eyes. Jonas had pulled back, his golden eyes glazed over, unfocused. He was mind-linking someone. My stomach dropped. The silence in the hall stretched, thick and uncomfortable. Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd like a rising tide.

"Jonas?" I whispered, reaching for his arm. "What is it?"

He blinked, the glaze clearing to reveal panic. Pure, unadulterated panic. He looked at me, then at the door, then back at me. "I...