Rejected by the Wolf King, Reborn as His Doom

I soon came to understand that hope was not to be mine.

My mother died the night I was born. She bled under the red moon with the pack healers praying and praying and praying and it didn't help. They said the moon cursed me and took her breath with my first breath. Perhaps they told the truth. I never looked upon her face nor heard her voice but I felt her shame and it became me.

The slums outside Silvercrown territory smelled bad and full of sadness. I grew up in a small shack with holes in the roof, owned by a wolf who took in orphans like they were owed money. We worked for our food, but it was never enough. Thin soup. Stale bread. We got beaten if we moved too slow or talked too loud.

I was ten years old when I was sent to the packhouse. There was always someone to clean the floors and tip the toilets, and foul omegas did not deserve any better. The labor was laborious. My hands were sore and cut by the soap. My knees were bruised by kneeling on the stone. But I held my head down and did not utter any words because to remain alive one had to be unnoticeable.

The other maids shunned me. They said I was bad luck and bad things would befall the man who got too near me. One kitchen girl who grew friendly to me fell downstairs and broke her arm. One guard who grew friendly to me lost his job the next day. I soon gave up trying to make friends.

I did have one unique gift that made me not quite so lonely. Animals trusted me. Sick birds would come to perch on my windowsill. Street dogs tailed me through the market. One time I spotted a wolf cub trapped by an anvil trap, whining and bleeding. I freed him and bound his leg with torn pieces from my only good dress. He licked my hand and took off running back through the trees. At times I would be reminded that perhaps I wasn't quite cursed. Perhaps some living creatures could sense the kindness I struggled to conceal from people who only observed my bad blood.

The packhouse was a chilly place full of beautiful people who stared at me as if I were just furniture. I supplied them with meals, did their laundry, and heard them discuss politics and power. The Wolf King resided within the eastern wing, and I'd just once seen him from afar. He was tall and dark-haired. He moved with the air of someone who confidently possessed the privilege to be in command.

I did not think about him much. Kings resided in another world where girls like me did not exist.

Everything shifted the week I turned eighteen. First, the nightmares began. I'd wake up choking, my body sweating, with visuals flashing through my head that I could not make sense of. A bloody crown made of silver. A throne room filled with yelling. A man's voice saying a name I did not recognize. The pack healer said it was common among young wolves approaching first heat, but these did not sit right. They seemed to be warnings.

Next was the full moon ceremony. Every member of the pack attended the main courtyard to recite renewed oaths of loyalty under the goddess's illumination. I'd never attended before because house servants weren't considered significant, but the head housekeeper ordered me this year to serve the wine to the nobles.

I attempted to remain inconspicuous and walked through the crowds with the tray held aloft. The ceremony was moving but agonizing. Wolves stood together and stared up at the moon and sang old melodies. I permitted myself to imagine I could be one among them and be connected to and strong.

That's when it happened. The bond clicked into place like a rope tightening around my chest. I stumbled and dropped the tray. Silver cups clinked against the stone, and wine spread like blood across the courtyard. Everyone looked at the clumsy servant girl who had ruined the important moment.

But I hardly noticed. My whole body was on fire. Every nerve felt alive, full of need, with a connection so deep it was like coming home and falling off a cliff at the same time. My wolf, asleep and quiet for eighteen years, suddenly woke up with a howl that only I could hear.

Mate. Mate. MATE.

I saw him on the other side of the courtyard. King Alaric stood on the raised stage, stillness emanating from him, his silver eyes pinned to me. His face looked pallid. His hands held the edge of the stone railing with so much strength that his knuckles turned white. I saw his chest rise and dip quickly as he drew breaths and fought the same feeling that was destroying me from the inside.

The crowd grew still. The wind appeared to stop. All could sense it, the change in the air, the way the moon's light shone upon us now as if it were a stage lamp.

Seraphine, the court seer, emerged. Her cold eyes sparkled with an expression that seemed to be satisfaction. "The goddess has spoken," she declared, her voice echoing through the courtyard. "The prophecy commences. The accursed omega has been elected as the king's destined mate."

Murmurs erupted. Shock. Disgust. Fear. I heard each hateful term as a knife. Impossible. Unthinkable. The king could not be connected to something like her.

The bond wasn't bothered by what they would think. It pulsed between us, distinct and strong. I searched out Alaric's face to see approval on it, perhaps comfort that we'd each come upon what any wolf desired. Instead, I saw horror

The royal chambers were even colder than I'd imagined.

They'd brought me here after the ceremony fell apart into chaos. Guards had escorted me through marble corridors as nobles whispered and pointed. I'd never been in this section of the palace before. Everything shone with wealth I couldn't begin to understand. Gold fixtures. Silk drapes. Portraits of former kings looking down with judgmental eyes.

I now stood in King Alaric's private meeting room, still clad in my servant's robe with wine spills, as the most powerful wolves in the kingdom decided my destiny.

The bond hummed beneath my skin, pulling me toward him like gravity. Alaric stood at the window, his back to me, rigid and silent. Even from across the room, I could feel his wolf calling to mine. The bond was strong enough that it made my hands shake.

"This is a mistake," someone said. Beta Kael, I think. I recognized him from the packhouse, always standing beside the king. "The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes. If she chose Eira as the king's mate, we have a duty to honor that choice."

"Honor it?" Seraphine's voice dripped with scorn. She circled me like a predator, her mortally pale eyes taking note of every flaw. "This thing is cursed. Born beneath the blood moon. Her mother died in disgrace. She has no status, no upbringing, no blood worthy of claiming. And the prophecy is clear. If the king claims her as his mate, his crown will burn. His reign will end in disaster."

My throat tightened. I wanted to defend myself, to prove I was more than the circumstances of my birth, but words died on my lips. What could I say? Everything she'd listed was true. I was nobody. Nothing. A servant girl who'd been somehow chosen for something impossible.

"The prophecy isn't certain," Kael argued. "It says she'll either save us or destroy us. That leaves room for salvation if the right decision is made."

"Or guarantee destruction by claiming her as his own," a second voice added. Lord Marcus, the head of the noble council. "The risk is too great. The king's duty is to the kingdom above all else, always. Personal desires cannot come before the safety of thousands."

Personal desires. As if this bond was something insignificant. As if my entire being wasn't screaming for the man who still hadn't turned, hadn't looked at me, hadn't spoken one word in my defense.

"Your Majesty," Seraphine said softly, coming forward beside Alaric. "You know what you must do. The kingdom needs a strong Luna. A proper queen of noble blood who can sit beside you without inviting doom prophecies. This child is a liability. Denying her is the only sane choice."

Deny. The word hung in the air like a poison. My wolf whimpered inside me, already sensing what was to follow.

Alaric's shoulders strained. His fists were clenched at his sides. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. "Leave us. All of you."

"Your Majesty...." Seraphine started.

"Now." The command tore through the room like thunder.

They left unwillingly, filing out with backward glances and murmured worries. Kael was the last to go, and he caught my eye briefly. Something in his face looked like pity, which only made it all worse.

The door closed. It was quiet, aside from my racing heart.

Alaric slowly turned. Up close, he was ruinous. Chiseled bone structure. Silver eyes that seemed to see right through me. A mouth set in a hard line. He looked at me like I was a riddle to solve rather than the other half of his soul.

"What's your name?" he asked gruffly.

"Eira." My voice was little more than a whisper.

"Eira." He tried it out, and my name in his voice sent shivers down my back. The bond was constructed. "What's happening here?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"Then you realize that this connection, this draw between us, cannot be allowed to be." He sounded like he was discussing the weather, remote and clinical. "The prophecy is explicit. You are a threat to everything I have built, everything my father and grandfather built before me. I have an obligation to this kingdom that comes before emotions."

"I would never hurt you," I managed to say. "Or the kingdom. I don't want power or a throne. I just want.... "

"What you want is irrelevant." His words were as sharp as glass. "What I want is irrelevant. Only the kingdom is relevant. Only the prophecy is relevant. And it says that claiming you will destroy us all."

Tears burned the backs of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I had survived eighteen years of abuse and loneliness. I would not break now, not in front of him.

"There are rituals," Alaric continued, turning away again as if he could not bear to look at me. "Ways to sever a mate bond before it's fully formed. It will cause pain, but you'll survive. We both will. And then you'll leave Silvercrown territory. I'll provide you with gold, enough to start a new life somewhere far removed from here. You'll never have to work as a servant again."

Money. He thought he could bribe me into agreeing to this.

"And if I refuse?" The words escaped before I could stop them.

His jaw clenched. "You won't refuse. Because if you truly care about this kingdom, about the innocent lives that would be lost if the prophecy is carried out, you'll do what's necessary. You'll let me go."

The unfairness of it took my breath away. He was asking me to be unselfish, to sacrifice my one chance at happiness for people who'd never been nice to me. And the worst thing about it was that I understood. I'd seen the fear in everyone's eyes. I'd heard the prophecy. What if they were right? What if loving me would kill him?

"When?" I breathed.

"Tomorrow night. Beneath the new moon when the goddess's strength is at its lowest." He faced me again, and for a moment, I saw something crack in his controlled expression.

They clothed me like a doll for my own funeral.

The slaves who came to ready me for the ritual of rejection did not glance in my direction. They labored wordlessly, weaving my hair into a complex headpiece, coloring my mouth, covering me in a white gown that resembled a burial shroud. White for innocence. White for terminations. White for the Luna I would never be.

I stayed perfectly still and let them get on with the job. What option did I have? In a few hours, it would be over. The bond that was just beginning would be severed, and I'd be sent away to form a life around the vacuum inside me.

The guest room they'd given me was nicer than I'd ever rested my head. Soft bed. Fresh bedclothes. A window to gaze out onto the gardens. I'd slept fitfully through the night, my gaze on the ceiling, feeling Alaric in the palace, his presence tugging at me through walls and distance. My wolf tossed uneasily inside me, confused and afraid. She had no idea why our mate was rejecting us. Mates were sacred in the animal world. Unbreakable. Humans made everything complicated with their prophecies and fears.

A knock at the door. I had been expecting another servant, but Kael appeared instead. The Beta looked tired, like he hadn't slept either.

"I'm sorry," he said without inflection. "For what it's worth, I think this is wrong."

"Then why isn't anybody stopping it?" I asked.

"Because I'm not king." He walked over to the window, looking out at the very gardens I'd gazed at all night. "Alaric is my best friend. We were raised together. I've seen him make tough choices before, but never one that's destroying him like this. He hasn't eaten. Haven't slept. His wolf is fighting him so hard he can barely keep going."

"Good," I snapped. "He should suffer."

Kael stood before me, his expression somber. "You two will. That's how rejection works. It doesn't just shatter the connection. It leaves traces of it with you, rough edges that never mend. You'll both spend the rest of your lives unfinished."

"Why are you explaining this to me?"

"Because I want you to see that he's not doing this lightly. He's not heartless. He's only scared. The responsibility of the kingdom is on his shoulders, and all of the people that he loves have informed him that taking you will bring destruction. He's trying to save lives, even if it costs him his own happiness."

I understood that. I even enjoyed it in a twisted way. But understanding didn't hurt any less.

"There's still time," Kael said quietly. "You can run. I'd help you. We could get you a leave from the palace before the ceremony, far enough away that.".

"No." I stood and smoothed out the white dress. "Running won't accomplish anything. The bond is there whether we are in the same room or on different continents. If this is going to occur, let it occur cleanly. Let him do what he feels is right."

Kael regarded me for a long time. "You're stronger than anyone would ever credit you as being."

"Strength accomplishes nothing when you're powerless."

He left after that, and I was once more concerned only with my own thoughts. The sun slowly set, the sky becoming red and gold. Beautiful and terrible, as everything else in regards to this day.

When they came to take me into the throne room, I walked with my head held high. I had been invisible for eighteen years, nothing. If this was going to be the last time I saw Alaric, I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing me crack.

The throne room was filled. Every noble, every notable pack member, all to witness the omega be turned down. They sat along the periphery of the room, their expressions a plaster of interest and relief. This was a spectacle to them. A show. The tainted omega in her place.

Alaric stood on the dais, crown and official robes on his somber figure. A king carved from marble, beautiful and distant. But I could feel the tension in his shoulders, the stiffness of his hands gripping the arms of his throne too tightly.

Seraphine stood at his side, her white eyes glowing with triumph.

They led me down the aisle in the middle. Every step was walking through water. The bond pulled tighter the further I went, my wolf whimpering and fighting, begging me to run to him, to make him understand. But there was nothing to grasp. This was always going to be the end.

I stopped at the bottom of the platform and stumbled into a curtsy, for in all this, in what I was witnessing here, I could not help but recall what rules of etiquette had been drummed into me. Servants bow. Kings stand taller.

"Rise," Alaric bade, and his voice was unfeeling.

I stood. We exchanged glances, and for one moment, the façade fell away. I saw his pain, naked and desolate, before he concealed it again.

"Eira of no clan, no rank, no blood," he began rigidly. "The Moon Goddess in her wisdom brought us together. But I, Alaric Silvercrown, Alpha King of the Northern Territories, cannot tolerate this union. For the safety of my kingdom and the good of my people, I hereby disavow you as my mate and Luna."

The words hit like body blows. My legs went weak, but I braced them. The people around us murmured. The official rejection had begun, but it wasn't completed until I said I accepted.

"Do you accept this rejection?" Alaric asked. His voice cracked on the last word.

This was it. My moment of choice. I could decline, could force him through more involved rituals, could make this harder for all of us. But for what purpose? He'd made his choice clear. Struggling would just prolong the agony.

"I accept," I whispered.

The bond snapped. It was like something integral inside of me shattered, running shock waves down each nerve. I screamed, unable to hold it in, and collapsed. Pain I'd never experienced enveloped me. My wolf howled in pain, struggling and scratching, not comprehending what was happening.

Amidst the torment, I heard Alaric's roar. He too had been brought down, his own wolf fighting against the broken bond. Seraphine and the guards held him back, pinned him to the platform as I writhed on the ground below.

"It is done," Seraphine announced. "The bond is broken. The prophecy is foiled. Long live the king."

"Long live the king," the crowd chorused, but their words were far away.

I have no idea how long I stayed there. Time ceased to exist. Finally, the burning agony faded into a dull, throbbing pain. Someone propped me up. Kael, I think, his face in a scowl and rage.

"Get her out of here," Alaric's voice echoed above me. "Give her the gold. Make sure she reaches the border."

I did not look back. I could not. If I saw his face again, I would collapse completely.

They half-dragged me across the palace and out to a waiting horse. A pouch of gold coins lay in the saddle bag, Alaric's pay for breaking me. The guards pointed me onto the forest road that led one away from Silvercrown lands.

"You are to be gone by dawn," one of them said to me. "After that, you are a danger to the kingdom."

A danger. Even though I was rejected, I was dangerous.

I rode into darkness, my body screaming with pain, my soul torn asunder. Behind me, the lights of the palace fell away. Ahead of me, the forest yawned.

I traveled maybe three miles before I realized I wasn't alone. Shadows moved through the trees. Eyes glowed in the dark. I thought they were regular wolves at first, but then I saw the weapons.

Hunters. Sent to make sure the damned omega never returned.

I should have been afraid of them, but I was too broken to care. Bring it on. Let them finish what Alaric started.

The first arrow hit my shoulder. I got off my horse, falling onto the ground. Red bloomed warm over my dress, mixing with white. More arrows flew in. Pain burst in my leg, my side, my chest.

I crawled towards a cluster of trees, and a streak of red blood marked my path behind me. I saw something fuzzy through my eyes. The hunters were speaking, but now I couldn't hear them anymore. I could only hear the pounding of my heartbeat, slowing, quieting.

The blood moon rose above me, red and full and beautiful. The same moon that had witnessed my birth would witness my death. There was something beautiful about that, I thought far away.

My last thought as the darkness took hold was of silver eyes and a love that never had a chance.