Rejected By The Alpha: The Starlet's Return

On my eighteenth birthday, as my bones broke and reshaped for my First Shift, I looked up at Autry from the cold marble floor.

The Alpha. My guardian. And as the moon decided, my Fated Mate.

I reached a trembling hand toward him, desperate for the bond to settle the agony tearing me apart.

Instead, he recoiled.

"I reject you," he spat, his voice devoid of emotion.

Beside him, his Beta mistress smirked, wearing a diamond bought with his pack's debt. He didn't reject me because I was unfaithful; he broke our soul bond because I was a "charity-case Omega" with no political value.

He threw a check onto the floor, letting it land in a pool of my own sweat, and gave me one hour to get out.

But exile wasn't enough for them.

To ensure I couldn't return, they framed me. While I was bleeding out at the border, they released doctored photos accusing me of sleeping with Rogues, destroying my reputation just to save his poll numbers with the council.

I watched a livestream of them bulldozing my mother's rose garden, laughing as they erased my existence.

He thought I would die in the wild. He thought the rejection had killed my wolf.

Five years later, I stepped out of a limousine in front of his corporate tower.

I wasn't the scrawny orphan anymore. I was J.B., the face of Vogue, carrying the awakened power of the rare White Wolf bloodline.

Autry rushed to meet me, eyes glowing gold, thinking he could simply snap his fingers and get his mate back.

He didn't notice the massive sapphire ring on my finger.

Or the Alpha of the European Silver Mist Pack standing behind me, ready to tear his throat out if he took one more step.

Chapter 1

Jayme POV:

The pain was absolute. It felt less like a biological process and more like being fed into a woodchipper. It was my eighteenth birthday-the day of the First Shift.

I lay curled on the cold marble of the Alpha's living room. My skin burned. My muscles spasmed, knitting themselves into something new. But the physical agony was background noise compared to the screaming inside my skull.

My wolf was clawing at the walls of my mind, desperate and broken.

"Get up, Jayme," a cold voice commanded.

I forced my eyes open. Autry Villarreal. The Alpha. My guardian since the border wars took my parents. And, as my wolf had realized the second midnight struck, my Fated Mate.

The Moon Goddess had a twisted sense of humor. The most powerful Alpha paired with the charity-case Omega.

I reached a trembling hand toward him. The air between us crackled with the Bond, a magnetic hook in my gut urging me to touch him, to submit.

"Autry..." I whispered. "Mate."

He didn't take my hand. He recoiled, a sneer twisting his features. He looked immaculate in his tailored suit, smelling of dark chocolate and rain-a scent that made me dizzy with want.

"Don't call me that," he spat.

Beside him stood Cassie. Just a Beta, but she wore a diamond the size of a grape. She smirked, her hand resting possessively on Autry's arm.

"The poor thing is delirious," Cassie purred. Her voice was syrup laced with arsenic. "Alpha, put her out of her misery."

Autry looked at me. No love. Only cold calculation. He needed a Luna to secure the Northern alliance. An Omega with no family and weak blood was a liability.

The air in the room grew heavy, pressurized by his rising aura.

"Jayme Barnes," he began. His voice vibrated in my chest. "You are weak. You bring nothing to this pack. You are not fit to be a Luna."

My heart hammered against my ribs. No. Please.

"I, Autry Villarreal, Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, reject you, Jayme Barnes, as my Fated Mate."

The words hit like a physical blow.

SNAP.

The golden thread connecting our souls didn't just break; it detonated. I screamed as something vital was ripped out of my chest. Blood trickled from my nose.

My wolf let out a final, agonizing whimper and went dormant, curling into a ball in the darkest corner of my mind.

The ritual demanded a response. Silence would drive us both mad. But mostly me.

I looked up at him through a blur of tears. The hero I'd worshipped was dead.

"I..." My voice cracked. I coughed up metallic-tasting blood. "I, Jayme Barnes, accept your rejection."

The pressure vanished. I felt hollow. Scraped out.

"Good," Autry said, adjusting his cuffs. He dropped a check onto the floor. It landed in a pool of my own sweat. "This covers your expenses. You have one hour. I don't want you in the pack house."

Cassie clapped her hands. "Finally. I'm moving into the Master Suite tonight. Oh, and Autry? Those ugly white roses she planted? Burn them. I'm allergic to cheap flowers."

"Burn them," Autry told the butler, not even glancing back.

I gripped the silver amulet around my neck-my parents' legacy. It felt heavy, like a tombstone.

"Clean this up," Autry gestured to where I lay. "And open the windows. It smells like desperation in here."

He walked away, Cassie clinging to him like a burr.

I lay there, clutching the check meant to pay for a destroyed soul, listening to his footsteps fade. He hadn't just rejected me. He had erased me.

Jayme POV:

The sedan smelled like him. It was psychological torture.

Autry insisted on driving me to the border. He called it "protocol." I called it making sure the trash was actually taken out.

We sat in a silence thick enough to choke on. I'd swapped the silk dresses he used to buy his "ward" for jeans and a hoodie.

"Where will you go?" Autry asked, knuckles white on the wheel.

"None of your concern, Mr. Villarreal."

The car swerved.

He growled. "Don't call me that. I am your Alpha."

"Not anymore," I replied, staring at the passing blur of trees. "I'm a Rogue. Your command is just noise."

We passed the town square. A massive billboard of Autry's face loomed over us. His tech company owned the town, just like he thought he owned me.

"I'm doing this for the pack," he said, voice tight. "You couldn't handle the pressure. The Northern Alpha would eat you alive."

"You didn't reject me because I'm weak, Autry," I turned to his profile. "You rejected me because you're a coward. You're terrified of what the council would think of an orphan Luna."

He slammed the brakes. The car screeched to a halt inches from the border crossing.

He turned, eyes flashing gold. "Get out."

I grabbed my single suitcase.

"Jayme," he called as I walked toward the neutral zone.

I stopped.

"Don't come back. If you cross into Blood Moon territory, you're a hostile trespasser."

"Don't worry," I said, gripping the handle until my fingers ached. "I'd rather die."

I crossed the invisible line. The heavy hum of the Pack Link-the mental web connecting us all-snapped off. Silence.

I was alone.

My phone buzzed. A notification from the Pack's social feed.

Official Announcement: Alpha Autry Villarreal to accept Cassie Turner as his chosen mate. Celebration dinner tonight.

Below it, a live video. I shouldn't have clicked.

A bulldozer tore through the garden. My mother's moon-blooming roses were crushed into the mud.

Cassie stood in the foreground, champagne in hand.

"Out with the old trash, in with the new luxury," she laughed.

I threw my phone into a ditch.

I took a deep breath. The air didn't smell like chocolate and rain anymore. It smelled like dust and highway exhaust. It smelled like freedom.

"You think I'm trash, Cassie?" I whispered to the dark road. "Just wait."

Jayme POV:

Three days later, I was in France.

My old agent, Sarah-a human oblivious to wolves-found me a gig. Indie film, lavender fields of Provence. Far enough from the Blood Moon that I could breathe without my lungs aching.

I was unpacking in a cramped hotel room when my new burner phone rang. Blocked number.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

The voice was a bucket of ice water. Autry.

"Why are you calling?"

"I asked a question, Jayme!" His voice deepened into the Alpha Command . It used to make my knees buckle. Tell me where you are!

I waited for the compulsion.

Nothing.

The rejection had severed the neurological hook. His voice was just... loud.

"I don't have to answer you," I smiled. "You have no power here."

"Jayme, listen," he sounded panicked. "The council is asking questions. They know you're gone. I need you to sign some NDAs. Just come back for a day."

"Send them to my lawyer," I said. "Oh wait, you fired him. Goodbye, Mr. Villarreal."

I hung up and snapped the SIM card in half.

Downstairs, the crew was gathering.

"Ah, the mysterious beauty!"

A man walked toward me. Tall, messy blonde hair, ocean eyes. T-shirt and jeans, but he moved with the lazy confidence of a predator.

"I'm Kenan," he extended a hand. "Director."

I shook it.

Zap.

Static electricity, warm and pleasant, jumped between us.

And then the scent hit me.

Pine needles. Sea salt. Old parchment.

It was a balm to my frayed nerves. My wolf stirred from her coma, lifting her head to purr.

"I'm Jayme," I breathed.

Kenan held my hand too long. His pupils dilated. He was a wolf. A strong one.

"You have sad eyes, Jayme," he said softly. "Perfect for this role."

We went to the fields. Work was a distraction. Until the wind changed.

Thwup-thwup-thwup.

A sleek black helicopter crested the ridge, bearing the Blood Moon logo. It landed, flattening the lavender.

Autry stepped out. Dark suit, sunglasses, holding red roses like a grim reaper with a guilty conscience.

He ignored the shouting crew and locked onto me.

"Jayme!" he yelled over the rotors. "Get in the chopper. We're going home."