Rejected Mate's Madness

The crisp autumn air bit at my cheeks as I stepped out of the sleek black sedan, my fingers instinctively reaching for the International Healer's Excellence Award pendant hanging around my neck. The golden disc felt heavier than usual against my chest, its weight a reminder of everything I'd worked for—and everything I was about to risk.

Silvermoon Pack's territory stretched before me like something out of a postcard, all towering pines and granite cliffs that caught the late afternoon sun. But it was the crowd gathered in the main courtyard that made my stomach clench. Dozens of pack members stood in neat rows, their faces a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed judgment. At the front, Beta Roman Martinez waited with a smile that didn't quite reach his dark eyes.

"Welcome home, Freya Herrera," Roman's voice boomed across the courtyard, his tone pitched perfectly for the audience. "The Silvermoon Pack is honored to receive not only our future Luna, but the youngest recipient of the International Healer's Excellence Award."

Applause rippled through the crowd, but I caught the whispers underneath—speculation about my bloodline, my qualifications, whether I deserved the position being handed to me. My jaw tightened. If only they knew the truth about my father's influence in arranging all of this.

Roman stepped forward, his hand extended in what looked like a welcoming gesture but felt more like a claim of ownership. "As your mate and Beta of this pack, I'm pleased to announce that Freya will immediately assume the position of head healer, bringing her internationally recognized expertise to serve our pack."

The words hit me like a slap. Head healer? I hadn't even been consulted about taking such a position, let alone agreed to it. But Roman's expectant smile and the watching crowd left me little choice but to nod graciously, even as irritation flared in my chest.

"Thank you for the warm welcome," I managed, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I look forward to serving the pack's healing needs."

The ceremony concluded with more pleasantries and introductions, but my mind was already racing ahead to the private conversation I knew was coming. Roman's presumptuous announcement had set the tone—this wasn't going to be the partnership I'd hoped for.

Two hours later, I found myself in Roman's office, a spacious room dominated by dark wood and pack memorabilia that screamed of masculine authority. He closed the door behind us with a soft click that somehow sounded ominous.

"Now that the formalities are over," Roman said, moving to pour himself a glass of amber liquid from a crystal decanter, "we need to discuss your first official duty as head healer."

I remained standing, my hands clasped behind my back. "I assumed my first duty would be to review the current medical protocols and meet with the existing healing staff."

Roman's laugh was sharp, humorless. "There's been an incident, Freya. A serious one." He turned to face me, his expression grave. "One of our warriors, Marcus