Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

The crisp autumn air bit at my cheeks as I stood at the airport entrance, the distant buzzing of my phone echoing in my ears. The wind wasn’t as cold as the ache in my chest. Jackson Lewis, the Alpha heir of the Silver Moon Pack and my supposed mate, still hadn’t answered. This was my eighteenth attempt, and still, nothing. Even my messages before boarding the plane were met with silence. Scrolling through our chat history, his replies were sparse and terse.

“I’m busy,” “I’m at work”—his new go-to brush-offs. He hadn’t always been like this. He used to wish me goodnight regardless of how late it got. But now, the mate bond that once felt like a tether between us was fraying, unraveling with every unanswered call.

Taking a deep breath, my fingers trembled as I opened the unfamiliar chat box. The dim video couldn’t hide their naked bodies. The figure was painfully familiar. The voice, too—a voice I recognized instantly. Though it was the second viewing, my hands and feet froze anew.

“Alpha Jackson, do you know who I am? Thinking of her, are you...”

“How could it be? She doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

“Aura, darling, I’m right here…”

I frantically closed the video, darkness engulfing my sight, my chest feeling crushed, stealing my breath. Like a toy nearing its breaking point—scrambling desperately.

The person sent me this video last night without a word. Instantly, I recognized the panting and sordid words belonged to Jackson Lewis, the man who had marked me as his mate just three months ago. He had cried while slipping the ring on my finger—a symbol of our bond, a promise from the Moon Goddess. How could he change so quickly to cherish someone else?

Jackson had become distant these last months. I believed it was normal for a long-distance relationship, compounded by his duties as the Alpha heir, so I didn’t question it. Now I realized his busy life included someone else. That was why he had no time for me.

I spent the night scrolling through the woman’s entire pack social media. She was like me in appearance, yet her personality was miles apart. Maybe it was my upbringing—I was reserved, not good at sweet talk or playing coy. Jackson would say I was like a doll, lacking excitement. But this woman, Aura Diaz, was the opposite.

With Jackson, she visited many places, leaving behind souvenir videos. Some locations were those Jackson and I had been to; others were ones we talked about but never visited. Yet the common detail in each was Jackson holding her, laughing at the camera, exclaiming:

“I, Jackson Lewis, Alpha heir of the Silver Moon Pack, love only Aura Diaz!”

Aura Diaz—that was her name. A Delta in the Silver Moon Pack, lively and bold where I was quiet and studious. And me? What was I? I didn’t know, and Jackson clearly didn’t want me to.

In the cab home, Jackson finally called, but