Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

The morning mist clung to the forest floor as I knelt beside the torn fabric, my heart hammering against my ribs. The metallic scent of dried blood mixed with something else—something floral and distinctly familiar that made my stomach clench with dread.

Lillian's scent.

I pressed the fabric to my nose again, hoping I was wrong, but there was no mistaking that cloying sweetness of jasmine and vanilla that always seemed to follow Julian's childhood friend. My hands trembled as I carefully placed the evidence in my collection bag, alongside the broken branches and disturbed earth that told the story of last night's rogue attack.

Three pack members had been injured in this coordinated assault on our eastern border. The timing had been too precise, too calculated. Someone had known our patrol schedules, had known exactly when this section would be most vulnerable. And now I held proof of who that someone was.

The walk back to the pack house felt like a death march. Each step carried me closer to a conversation I dreaded but couldn't avoid. Julian would want justice for the attacks—he'd been furious when the reports came in, his Alpha aura crackling with protective rage for our pack members. Surely when I showed him this evidence, he would understand the gravity of what we were facing.

I found him in his office, bent over territorial maps with that familiar furrow between his dark brows. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows caught the gold flecks in his brown eyes as he looked up, and for a moment, my heart stuttered with the same love that had bloomed when we'd first discovered our mate bond three years ago.

"Selene." His voice was warm, welcoming. "How did the investigation go?"

I set the evidence bag on his desk with careful precision, watching his expression shift as he registered what I'd brought him. "I found something at the attack site. Something that changes everything."

Julian's eyes fixed on the torn fabric visible through the clear bag, and I watched the color drain from his face. But instead of the shocked concern I'd expected, something cold and calculating flickered across his features.

"Where exactly did you find this?" His voice had lost all warmth.

"Near the eastern border marker, caught on a thorn bush about fifty yards from where the attack occurred." I leaned forward, my healer's instincts screaming that something was wrong with his reaction. "Julian, this is Lillian's scent. She was there during the attack, or just before it. We need to—"

"We need to do nothing." The words cut through the air like a blade. Julian stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the wooden floor with a harsh sound that made me flinch. "You're mistaken about the scent."

"I'm not mistaken." My voice came out smaller than I intended, but I pressed on. "I've been a healer for eight years, Julian. I know scent identification better than almost anyone in this pack. This is definitely—"

"Enough." His