Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Lycan

Elyse POV

The Blackmoon Pack's Ancestral Grounds had turned into a muddy swamp. I stood entirely alone, the icy, gray downpour soaking through my black mourning dress, chilling me to the bone.

A few yards away, beneath the massive black canopy reserved for the Pack's inner circle, stood my husband. Jace Blackmoon, the newly ascended Alpha, wasn't looking at the mahogany coffin of his late brother, Harrison. Instead, his massive arms were wrapped tightly around Harrison's widow, Ciera Page. The delicate Omega was sobbing into his chest, and Jace was murmuring to her, his face buried in her hair in an intimately protective gesture meant only for mates.

Because I was pretending to be wolfless, I kept my Inner Wolf buried deep. I refused to tap into the Pack's Mind-Link. But I didn't need to hear their voices to know what they were saying. The synchronized sneers and mocking side-eyes from the warriors holding black umbrellas told me everything. They were laughing at their Luna-a useless, wolfless ghost who couldn't even hold her Alpha's gaze at a funeral.

When the ceremony finally ended, Jace didn't walk over to me. He simply caught my eye through the rain and jerked his chin toward the armored SUV, a dismissive gesture one might use to summon a stray hound.

The ride back to the Pack House was suffocating. The heavy thud of the windshield wipers against the bulletproof glass of the Cadillac Escalade only amplified the tension. Jace sat in the middle row, Ciera pressed against his side. The air was thick with his sharp cedar scent and her cloying vanilla.

I stared at the rain-slicked window. "We need to discuss the terms of the Rejection."

The words hung in the air. Jace froze, his hand still resting on Ciera's shoulder. Then, a harsh, booming laugh erupted from his chest.

"Are you out of your mind, Elyse?" Jace sneered, his dark eyes flashing with arrogant disbelief. "A wolfless runt like you? You wouldn't last a single day outside my territory. The Rogues would tear you to shreds before nightfall."

I didn't argue. I just looked at him, my expression entirely blank. Let him believe I was nothing but a helpless parasite clinging to the Blackmoon wealth. He had no idea who I really was. He didn't know about Dr. Elyse West, or that my "Moonlight Goddess Healing" biomedical project was on the verge of a breakthrough that would upend the entire werewolf hierarchy. I didn't need him. I never did.

Dismissing me completely, Jace turned his back and pulled a trembling Ciera closer, whispering reassurances to her.

By the time Sergei pulled the SUV up to the gothic stone steps of the Blackmoon Pack House, my mind was already miles away. The heavy oak doors swung open, and Ciera's young son, Leo, rushed out onto the porch.

"Dad!" the boy cried out.

Jace didn't correct him. He didn't even flinch. He simply scooped the boy up into his arms, a proud smile on his face.

Martha, the Pack's head Omega, stood in the foyer with a line of servants, her eyes darting nervously between me and the boy in my husband's arms.

"Martha," Jace ordered, his voice echoing off the marble floors. "Prepare the East Wing master guest suite for Ciera and Leo."

A collective gasp rippled through the servants. The East Wing was adjacent to the Alpha's quarters. It was the traditional territory of the Luna.

"But Alpha," Martha stammered, bowing her head. "That area is-"

"Do it," Jace growled. The air in the room suddenly grew heavy, vibrating with the crushing weight of the Alpha's Command. Even without a wolf, I could feel the oppressive pressure of his authority forcing the servants to bare their necks in submission. Jace shot an irritated glance in my direction. "She stays in the West Wing anyway. It won't bother her."

He had just stripped away the last shred of my dignity in front of the entire household.

I looked at the man I had been tied to for three miserable years. The final, frayed thread of my obligation to this political marriage quietly snapped. I felt no anger, only a chilling, absolute clarity.

Without a single word, I turned my back on them and walked toward the dim, empty corridor of the West Wing, my mind already calculating the fastest route to my lawyer's office in the city tomorrow morning.

Elyse POV

The morning sun did nothing to chase away the chill in my bones as I sat inside Talia Casey's discreet Upper East Side law office. The scent of old paper, rich mahogany, and Talia's expensive Chanel perfume filled the room-a sanctuary of human order, far removed from the primal chaos of the werewolf world.

Talia pushed a thick stack of papers across her desk, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Elyse, I won't draft a surrender. Jace moved his mistress and her brat into the Luna's wing. That's a blatant violation of the infidelity clause. We can take half the Blackmoon estate."

"I don't want his money, Talia," I said, my voice steady. "I want a Decoy Rejection. Draft an agreement where I walk away with absolutely nothing. Make it look pathetic and submissive. Stroke his massive ego so he signs it immediately."

"Why would you let him win?" Talia demanded, slamming her pen down.

I reached into my bag and slid a sealed medical file over the desk. "Because of this. Three years of marriage, Talia. Look at the physical exam."

Talia opened the file, her eyes scanning the text before widening in horror. "You're... unmarked? You never even consummated the bond?"

"He claimed he was saving himself for his 'true mate,' which he clearly believes is Ciera," I said, the humiliation a dull ache I had long since buried.

"Elyse, this is abandonment. It's fraud in both human and Pack law!"

"It doesn't matter," I leaned forward, lowering my voice as if the shadows could hear us. "Hilda Blackwood is sending trackers."

The color instantly drained from Talia's face. She was human, but she knew enough about my past to understand the sheer terror attached to the Blackwood Pack's matriarch.

"If I drag Jace through a public, messy divorce, the media will swarm. Every Pack will be watching," I explained, my hands trembling slightly before I forced them to still. "If Hilda finds out where I am, she will drag me back to that hell. I cannot risk it. I need to be a ghost."

Talia stared at me for a long moment, the fight leaving her shoulders. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll draft the decoy. We'll make him think he broke you."

By the time I returned to the Blackmoon Pack House that afternoon, the invasion of my territory was already underway.

I stopped dead in the grand foyer. The magnificent, centuries-old tapestry depicting the Moon Goddess-a sacred piece of Pack history-was crumpled on the marble floor like trash. In its place hung a massive, garish photo of Leo playing on a beach, encased in a cheap neon plastic frame.

Ciera stood nearby, directing two Omega servants. When she saw me, she offered a sickly sweet smile. "Oh, Elyse. I hope you don't mind. It was just so dreary in here. I wanted to add some of our family's warmth."

I stared at the plastic frame, my voice dropping to a glacial calm. "Some things represent legacy, Ciera, not warmth. They demand reverence, not plastic frames."

Ciera's eyes instantly welled with tears. Right on cue, the heavy oak doors of the study opened, and Jace stepped out.

His jaw was clenched, his Inner Wolf, *Titan*, clearly agitated by the territorial discord. But instead of assessing the situation, his eyes locked onto Ciera's fake tears. He marched over, wrapping a protective arm around her waist before glaring at me.

"She lives here now, Elyse," Jace commanded, his Alpha tone lacing the air with heavy, suffocating pressure. "Be tolerant. This is my Pack House."

He expected me to fight. He expected the *wolfless* Luna to throw a pathetic tantrum over a tapestry.

Instead, I looked at the man who had never truly been my husband, feeling the last chains of my emotional attachment shatter into dust. I offered him a calm, almost obedient nod.

"You're right, Alpha," I said softly. "This is your Pack House." I paused, letting my eyes drift from his face to the cheap plastic frame, and back again. "And soon, it will be entirely yours."

Jace frowned, a flicker of deep confusion and sudden irritation crossing his features. He didn't understand the double meaning. He didn't realize I had just handed him his crown of ashes.

Without another word, I turned my back on them and walked toward the stairs, needing to prepare myself for the mandatory family dinner tonight.

Elyse POV

The Alpha's Formal Dining Hall was designed to intimidate. Heavy pewter cutlery rested on a deep crimson tablecloth, and the stern portraits of past Alphas glared down from the mahogany-paneled walls. It was a place of absolute order and Pack tradition.

Or, it used to be.

*Clink. Clink. Clink.*

Leo sat two seats away from Jace, repeatedly striking his silver fork against a crystal goblet. The sharp, grating noise echoed through the suffocating silence of the room.

I looked at Jace at the head of the table. His jaw was tight, his Inner Wolf, *Titan*, clearly agitated by the noise, yet he did nothing.

"Jace, please ask him to stop," I said, keeping my voice perfectly level.

Jace waved a hand dismissively, not even looking up from his plate. "Leave it, Elyse. He's just a kid."

"He's just showing his vitality," Ciera chimed in, placing a manicured hand over Jace's arm. She offered me a condescending smile. "It takes a lot of energy to grow. I think it shows true Alpha potential."

I set my fork down. "It is not vitality, Alpha Jace. It is blatant disrespect to this bloodline and to your seat."

The temperature in the room plummeted. Jace's head snapped up, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, golden warning. But before he could unleash his temper on me, Leo, emboldened by his mother's defense and the Alpha's silence, dropped the fork. With a bratty smirk, he slid off his chair and bolted toward the adjoining Hearth Room.

A cold knot tightened in my stomach. I stood up and followed him.

The Hearth Room was bathed in the warm glow of a roaring fire, but my blood ran ice-cold the second I stepped inside. Leo was standing on his tiptoes, reaching for the mantel. His small hands closed around a small, carved wooden frame.

It was the only surviving photograph of my parents. The only piece of my soul that hadn't been tainted by the horrors of the Blackwood Pack.

"Put it down, Leo," I commanded, a sharp, Alpha-Luna edge bleeding into my tone that I rarely used.

Leo flinched, but then his face twisted into a defiant sneer. "It's old and ugly! Uncle Jace is the Alpha! This is his home, which means it's mine!"

"Leo, no!" I lunged forward.

He raised the frame high above his head and hurled it down with all his might.

The glass shattered against the white marble hearth with a sickening crash. The black-and-white photo of my parents fluttered down, landing amidst the jagged, glittering shards.

Dead silence swallowed the room.

Then, right on cue, Leo burst into theatrical, wailing sobs.

"Leo!" Ciera shrieked, rushing into the room and pulling the boy into her chest. She glared at me with venomous triumph. "You terrified my baby! What is wrong with you?"

Jace stormed in a second later. The scent of his cedar aura spiked with aggressive, suffocating protectiveness-but none of it was for me. He rushed to Ciera and Leo, his hands hovering over them as if checking for injuries.

I dropped to my knees on the hard marble. My hands shook violently as I reached into the broken glass, desperately trying to salvage the torn photograph. A sharp shard sliced deep into my index finger, but I didn't care. Drops of my blood stained the white stone.

"Why would you lunge at a child like that?" Jace's voice cracked like a whip above me.

I looked up, clutching the ruined photo to my chest. "It was my parents, Jace."

He looked at the blood dripping from my hand, and his eyes remained entirely devoid of empathy. "Stop overreacting, Elyse. It's just a picture. I can buy you ten new ones tomorrow."

The words hit me harder than a physical blow. He didn't just dismiss my pain; he desecrated my lineage.

"He was scared to death," Jace continued, his tone hardening into an Alpha's command. "Apologize to him. Now."

He wanted the Luna of the Silvermoon Pack to kneel and apologize to his mistress's brat for trying to protect her own heritage.

I stared at the man I had been bound to for three years. The last, pathetic thread of my hope snapped, leaving behind a void so cold it burned.

"No." The word slipped from my lips, hollow and absolute.

I didn't wait for his furious roar. I stood up, turning my back on the three of them, and walked out of the room. I climbed the stairs to my suite in the West Wing, the silence of the hallway ringing in my ears.

Once inside, I locked the heavy oak door. I walked into the en-suite bathroom, turned on the faucet, and thrust my bleeding hand under the freezing water. The physical sting grounded me.

With my dry hand, I picked up my encrypted phone and dialed.

"Talia," I said the moment she answered, my voice devoid of any emotion. "Do it. Tomorrow. I don't care how we do it. I want his signature on that document."