Rejecting Alpha for Lycan King

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the training grounds as I knelt beside Jake Morrison, one of our younger warriors who'd taken a particularly brutal hit during sparring. His left arm hung at an unnatural angle, the bone clearly fractured, while deep gashes marked his torso where claws had found their mark.

"Easy," I murmured, placing my hands gently over his injuries. The familiar warmth began to build in my chest, flowing down through my arms like liquid sunlight. Golden light emanated from my palms as I pressed them against his broken arm, feeling the bone fragments shift and realign beneath my touch.

Jake's face, twisted in pain moments before, gradually relaxed as the healing energy worked through him. Around us, the other pack members had stopped their training to watch—they always did when I used my gift. The torn muscles in his torso began to knit together, the angry red wounds fading to pink lines before disappearing entirely.

"Incredible," whispered Sarah, one of the she-wolves who'd been sparring nearby. "Every time I see it, it's like watching magic."

I smiled softly, helping Jake sit up as the last traces of golden light faded from my hands. His arm moved freely now, completely healed. "How does it feel?"

"Perfect," he said, flexing his fingers in amazement. "Thank you, Luna. I don't know what we'd do without you."

The gratitude in his voice warmed my heart, but before I could respond, a commotion at the edge of the training grounds caught my attention. Gabriella Nelson was running toward us, her usually perfect blonde hair disheveled, tears streaming down her face. Her designer workout clothes were wrinkled, as if she'd been clutching at them in distress.

"Elaine!" she called out, her voice breaking. "Please, I need to talk to you!"

The pack members around us fell silent, sensing the tension that always seemed to follow Gabriella. I rose slowly, brushing dirt from my knees. Even after seven years as Luna, seeing Paxton's former chosen mate still sent an uncomfortable twist through my stomach.

"What's wrong, Gabriella?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the way she was looking at me—with a desperate hope that made my skin crawl.

She stumbled to a stop in front of me, her perfectly manicured hands shaking as she reached out, then pulled back, as if afraid to touch me. "It's my father," she sobbed. "Marcus—he's been in an accident. The doctors... they say he's paralyzed from the waist down. Permanently."

My healer's instincts immediately kicked in. "I'm sorry to hear that. If you'd like me to examine him—"

"No, you don't understand," she interrupted, her blue eyes wild with desperation. "I've spoken to Dr. Foster at the hospital. She says his spinal cord is completely severed. Even your healing gift can only do so much with a single treatment. But if you were mated to him..." Her voice trailed off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

The training ground had gone completely silent. I