A Reject

Elara's POV

“BITCH! I will RIP her, I will TEAR her!!”

Lyra’s vicious, feral thoughts roar deafeningly through the confines of my mind. My wolf is violently thrashing against her mental cage, furiously demanding blood for this blatant disrespect. I forcefully push the utter despair and feral rage deep down, wrestling my primal instincts into submission strictly for the sake of the tiny, fragile life secretly growing inside my womb.

We are standing in the center of the expansive conference room. The heavy double doors have been shut tight, isolating the three of us from the curious staff outside. The air in the room is suffocatingly thick with tension.

Zarek tightly holds a violently sobbing Vexia against his broad chest, his hands soothingly stroking her back. He is fully, unquestioningly buying into her pathetic, entirely fabricated victim act. It’s her word against mine, and without a single moment of hesitation, he actively chooses to believe the lies of a woman he barely knows over the fiercely loyal Beta who has stood by his side, bleeding for his pack, for three entire years.

“I was doing exactly as you asked, letting her show me around,” Vexia whimpers pitifully into his tailored shirt, her voice trembling.

“That’s enough now,” Zarek says softly, his deep voice meant only to comfort the sobbing woman in his arms. “Once the pack has more time with you, they’ll see as I have already seen that Vexia is a kind, gentle, and loving she-wolf.”

As she rests her head securely on his shoulder, completely hidden from his line of sight, Vexia shifts her gaze directly to me. She flashes a gleaming, wicked, triumphant smile. The sheer malice in her dark eyes makes my stomach churn.

Then, Zarek turns his attention to me. His expression hardens, his cold gaze fundamentally questioning my professional integrity.

“I trust your work ethic and sensibilities have not been compromised here due to your bitter, pathetic jealousy as a spurned ex-lover,” Zarek says coldly.

Before I can even attempt to defend myself against this elaborate, cruel setup, Vexia feigns fresh, theatrical hysterics. She clutches his shirt tighter, her painted nails digging into the fabric. “She thinks she can win you back and get me out of the way! She’s trying to get rid of me so she can steal my rightful place as Luna!”

“Apologize,” the Alpha King demands. His voice is brittle, sharp, and utterly devoid of the warmth he once showed me in the dark. “To disrespect my Luna is to disrespect the pack.”

I open my mouth, desperate to make him see reason, but Vexia expertly interrupts me. She wails louder, crying out that I will never be happy until I am the one wearing the crown. She screams that I desperately crave nobility and would do absolutely anything—even destroy a pack—to gain a higher status.

At the sudden mention of status, Zarek physically freezes. A deadly, terrifying stillness takes over his handsome features, the muscles in his jaw ticking dangerously.

“So that’s what this is really about, then? MORE status?” he sneers, his upper lip curling with profound disgust.

The accusation strikes me to my absolute core. Subconsciously, my arms lift and wrap tightly around my waist. My hands press firmly against my stomach, a desperate, instinctual move to shield the unborn child I still so desperately need to tell him about.

Zarek leans forward and breathes a devastating, soul-crushing whisper that echoes in the silent room: “I’ve never been so ashamed to have such a disgraceful Fate Mate as you.”

“FATE MATE?!” Vexia suddenly shrieks, pulling violently out of his arms.

Her fake tears vanish for a fraction of a second as true, unadulterated shock registers on her face. Realizing Zarek had kept the sheer magnitude of our bond a complete secret from his new fiancée, she quickly recovers and massively amplifies her dramatic pity party.

She sobs uncontrollably, threatening to immediately pack her bags, return to her powerful brother—the Alpha King of Pack SanguineLune—and tell him exactly how horribly his only baby sister was treated here.

Her disgusting, dramatic sniffles fill the heavy silence until Zarek’s bright blue eyes lock onto me. I see the steely, unforgiving resolve rapidly hardening in his icy gaze, and my breath catches in my throat.

“Elara Trench,” he declares, his commanding voice echoing off the walls with absolute alpha authority. “I reject our Fate Mate bond, now and forever.”

An agonizing, white-hot, burning pain instantly rips through my entire body. It isn't a clean, surgical cut; our sacred, magical bond violently shatters into a million jagged, splintering pieces inside my chest, tearing mercilessly through my flesh, veins, and organs.

The sheer agony robs the breath from my lungs. I collapse heavily onto the hard floor, my knees bruising painfully against the cold tile. My hands frantically, desperately grip my belly to protect the baby from the magical shockwave. Lyra howls in pure devastation, a deafening sound that echoes through my hollowed-out mind.

“Please, wait… I need to…” I beg, violently gasping for air. My vision swims with dark black spots as I desperately try to find the words to tell him about our child.

But I am ruthlessly silenced by another direct, inescapable alpha command.

“Accept the rejection! You know the consequences of rejecting me.”

Liquid fire burns the delicate lining of my throat. I am utterly terrified of the brutal, magical punishments that would undoubtedly fall upon my fragile, unborn baby if I attempt to resist the Alpha King's command.

Hot tears spill uncontrollably over my cheeks as my voice breaks into a feeble, defeated whisper.

“I… accept.”

The second the irreversible words leave my lips, the final threads of the bond snap, leaving a hollow, bleeding cavern in the center of my soul.

Clapping his hands together briskly, Zarek casually washes the monumental, life-altering task away like a stubborn stain on his pristine suit. He looks down at my crumpled form, genuinely expecting me to simply dust myself off, swear eternal loyalty to his new Luna, and dutifully resume my exhausting schedule as his Beta.

It takes absolutely every ounce of physical and mental strength I have left in my battered body just to stand back up on my violently trembling legs. I cannot even bring myself to look at his face anymore.

Staring blankly at the floor tiles, I whisper my final plea.

“Please, just… allow me to leave the pack.”

“Leave?!” Zarek’s face contorts with sudden, profound shock, while a gleeful, victorious grin rests easily on Vexia’s lips.