Rejected by Alpha Mate

I stood frozen in the grand entrance hall of the Silver Moon Pack house, my fingers curled into my palms so tightly that my nails bit into flesh. The massive oak doors swung open, allowing the evening breeze to carry in their scents before they even appeared—vanilla and cedar intertwined so completely it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

My wolf, Lyra, whimpered inside me. *It's happening again.*

Ryan and Chloe walked in hand-in-hand, their matching silver ceremonial robes catching the light from the crystal chandeliers. The intricate moon patterns embroidered along the hems marked them as a pair, a visual statement that couldn't be more clear if they'd shouted it.

"Another successful alliance meeting," Ryan announced to the gathered pack members, his deep voice filling the hall. His eyes swept across the room, passing over me as though I were merely another decorative column. Three years as his fated mate, and still invisible.

Chloe leaned into him, her hand sliding up to rest on his chest in a gesture that was deliberately intimate. "The Northern Pack was so impressed with our unity," she said, emphasis on 'our' as her eyes flicked briefly to me.

Mark Vance, Ryan's Beta, approached me with an apologetic expression that had become all too familiar. "Madison, the kitchen staff is waiting for your instructions on the welcome feast," he said quietly. "As Luna, you should—"

"Luna in name only," I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Mark's eyes widened slightly. In three years, I had never once complained. I had prepared countless welcome feasts after countless meetings where I wasn't welcome. I had smiled through ceremonies where Chloe stood at Ryan's right hand while I was relegated to the background. I had healed pack members who whispered about their Alpha's unusual arrangement while they thought I couldn't hear.

"I won't be preparing the feast tonight," I said, my voice trembling slightly but clear.

A hush fell over the nearby pack members. Mark looked torn, his loyalty to his Alpha warring with what I could see was genuine sympathy.

"Madison," he began, but I shook my head.

"I have preparations to make for tomorrow's healing session," I said, the excuse flimsy but necessary. I couldn't tell him the truth—that if I had to watch Ryan feed Chloe morsels from his plate one more time while ignoring my existence, Lyra might finally break free and challenge his wolf directly, protocol be damned.

I turned away, feeling Ryan's gaze finally land on my back, too little and far too late. I didn't look back as I walked through the corridors to my quarters—not our quarters, never ours. Ryan had his own rooms, where Chloe spent more time than I ever had.

* * *

The courier arrived as the sun was setting, his travel-worn appearance suggesting urgency. I was in my herb garden behind the infirmary when a young pack member came running.

"Healer Madison! A message for you!"