Rejected Alpha's Mate

The scent hit me the moment I pushed open our bedroom door—sweet jasmine intertwined with something darker, more primal. Something that made my stomach clench with a recognition I didn't want to acknowledge.

I'd left the pack meeting early, my heart racing with excitement as I clutched the small velvet box containing Ezrah's anniversary gift. Five years. Five years since he'd claimed me as his chosen mate, since I'd become Luna of the Silvermoon Pack despite being nothing more than a wolfless omega. Tonight was supposed to be perfect.

The romantic dinner I'd planned sat forgotten downstairs—candles still unlit, wine still breathing on the counter. Because there, in our bed, was my mate. My Alpha. Wrapped around my adoptive sister like she was his salvation.

Freyja's golden hair spilled across Ezrah's chest as they moved together, their bodies creating a rhythm that spoke of familiarity, of countless stolen moments. The scent that filled the room wasn't just arousal—it was the unmistakable fragrance of fated mates, rich and intoxicating in a way that made my knees weak.

I'd never smelled like that with Ezrah. Never.

The velvet box slipped from my numb fingers, hitting the hardwood floor with a soft thud that seemed to echo like thunder. They froze, Ezrah's dark eyes meeting mine over Freyja's shoulder. For a heartbeat, no one moved. No one breathed.

Then Freyja turned, her lips swollen and her green eyes bright with something that looked disturbingly like triumph. "Delilah," she purred, making no move to cover herself. "You're home early."

The casualness of her tone, as if I'd simply walked in on them reading together, sent ice through my veins. Ezrah sat up slowly, his Alpha presence filling the room like a suffocating blanket, but I barely felt it. The mate bond that usually hummed between us felt... wrong. Distant. Like trying to tune into a radio station that was fading in and out.

"How long?" The words scraped out of my throat like broken glass.

Ezrah's jaw tightened. "Delilah, let me explain—"

"How. Long."

Freyja stretched languidly, her hand trailing down Ezrah's chest in a gesture of ownership that made my vision blur with rage. "Since my coming-of-age ceremony," she said with a smile that was all teeth. "When I turned eighteen and could finally scent my true mate."

Three years. Three years of lies, of me wondering why I couldn't conceive, why our bond sometimes felt hollow, why Ezrah would disappear for hours with pack business that never seemed to have witnesses.

"The Moon Goddess chose us," Freyja continued, sitting up to face me fully. Her naked form was everything mine wasn't—curved where I was angular, confident where I was uncertain. "Surely you understand that fated bonds supersede... arrangements."

Arrangements. Five years of my life reduced to an arrangement.

"Delilah." Ezrah's voice carried that Alpha tone that usually made my knees buckle, that compelled obedience from every fiber of my being. But something had snapped inside me, some invisible chain that had bound