Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

The darkness before dawn enveloped our bedroom as I awoke, my eyes adjusting to find the empty space beside me. Ryan's scent lingered on his pillow, but the sheets were cold—he hadn't returned last night. Again. I touched the five-year-old mating mark on my neck, tracing its familiar ridges with trembling fingers. Today marked five years since Alpha Ryan Sterling had claimed me as his Luna, five years since I'd left everything behind for the promise of forever with my fated mate.

A sharp pain radiated through my chest as I sat up, my body protesting even this simple movement. The wolf sickness was getting worse. Dr. Elias had warned me last month that without treatment, I might not see another winter. But how could I tell Ryan when he could barely stand to look at me?

"I need to tell him today," I whispered to the empty room, rehearsing the words I'd practiced a hundred times. "Ryan, I know things between us haven't been... what they once were. But I need you now. My wolf sickness is progressing, and without your support..."

My voice cracked. Would he even care? The Alpha who had once whispered promises against my skin now treated me like a stranger in our own home.

Still, today was different. Today was our anniversary.

I forced myself to stand, ignoring the weakness in my legs as I wrapped a robe around my nightgown. The pack house was silent this early, allowing me to slip unnoticed through the grand hallways toward my sanctuary.

The morning air carried a hint of frost as I pushed open the garden gate. This small patch of wildflowers behind the pack house was my creation—the one place in the Silvermoon territory that was truly mine. I knelt beside the roses, their sweet scent providing the comfort my mate no longer did.

"I can do this," I murmured, cupping a delicate bloom between my palms. "I just need to make him listen. Make him see me again."

The eastern sky began to lighten, painting the garden in soft pinks and golds. I stayed, watching the sunrise, feeling my strength ebbing with each passing minute. The wolf sickness always worsened in daylight—another cruel irony for a Luna who couldn't shift.

"If I were stronger, if I had my wolf..." The thought remained unfinished, a familiar wound I couldn't help but reopen.

I spent the morning preparing, ignoring the tremors in my hands as I arranged flowers from my garden for the dining table. The anniversary dinner would be perfect—Ryan's favorite roast, candles, the wine we'd shared on our first night together. Perhaps the familiar tastes and smells would remind him of what we once had.

By twilight, everything was ready. I'd changed into the midnight blue dress Ryan had once said matched the color of my eyes. My hair fell in soft waves down my back, covering the increasingly prominent bones of my shoulders. I lit the candles one by one, their warm glow