Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

I can endure, truly endure.

For two years, my mate, Alpha Thomas of the Silver Moon Pack, has been living with his Beta, Lainey. I stayed quietly compliant, made no fuss, and took care of our pups, Jayden and Laila, and my mother-in-law, Oaklyn, at the pack den without complaint. When I give, I give everything; when I take back, I leave no stone unturned.

Yesterday, Cameron, my confidant and a skilled tracker, mentioned that Alpha Thomas and Lainey had a huge fight. This was their eighth argument. I decided the time was ripe.

********************************

Today marks the beginning of my plan.

Standing on the rooftop of the pack headquarters, a thirty-story building that loomed over the city, I let the wind stir my dull, emotionless mood. I dialed Alpha Thomas's number. As usual, Lainey, his Beta and mistress, answered with her standard line: "Alpha Thomas is in a meeting."

I twisted my face into a snarl, my Luna authority slipping through my tone, "If you don’t put him on the phone now, I’ll jump. See if you can wash your hands of that."

Lainey went silent. Threat successful.

Alpha Thomas’s face appeared on the video call. I immediately burst into tears, "I just want to ask, my Alpha, it’s been two years, do you still remember the way home?"

His eyes flickered with surprise, as if he knew I’d never wanted a rejection, so he used not coming home as leverage. Two years have passed, and under my care, Jayden, Laila, and my parents have been safe and sound. Today, just to see him, I resorted to threatening him with a rooftop jump. The fool must think he’s irresistible, that I can’t live without him.

"Why make me come home? A phone call would suffice. Why the rooftop drama?" he questioned, his deep Alpha voice carrying a hint of annoyance.

I didn’t dare mention that Lainey had been screening his calls. Maybe he already knew. Who cares?

"The pups miss you. If you don’t come back soon, they’ll think you’ve vanished."

"Nonsense," he replied, his tone colder than the winter winds.

"I’ll be home tonight."

I wiped away my tears and the physical pain that felt like pulling muscles from bone, then walked down from the rooftop. The wind was quite strong up there, despite the warmth. No wonder the ancient poet wrote, "I desire to ride the wind and return home, but fear the high towers and the cold."

Coming back down to earth, am I a different kind of "high"?

My mood inexplicably lifted; even the sunlight felt warmer. Truly, no matter how high the temperature outside, I’ve always felt a biting chill these past two years. Faces pale every season. My parents worried endlessly, urging me to see the pack healer. But my heart was frozen, and no medicine would melt it.

As usual, I stopped by my parents’ new den, a modest territory I had secured for them near the pack borders. Mom, Lucille, hugged