After My Alpha Rejected Me, the Lycan King Said “Mine”

The crystal chandeliers of the Shadow Creek Pack house glittered like diamonds, but to me, they looked like teeth waiting to snap shut. I stood beside Alpha Jonas on the raised dais, my hand trembling slightly where it rested on his arm. He squeezed my waist—a gesture that looked supportive to the crowd below but felt like a warning grip to me.

"Leadership requires sacrifice," Jonas’s voice boomed, smooth and practiced. He looked down at me with a mask of tragic benevolence. "And no one knows sacrifice better than my Luna. Though the Moon Goddess has tested us with a dormant wolf line and a silent womb, we remain strong."

A murmur of pity rippled through the gathered pack members. I lowered my eyes, the familiar burn of shame heating my cheeks. Three years. Three years of supplements, doctors, and pitying stares. I was the broken thing on the shelf, the barren Luna who couldn't give the pack an heir.

"To Alpha Jonas and Luna Valentina!" someone toasted.

As the glasses clinked, a woman in a shimmering red dress approached the dais. Alana Bell. She wasn't high-ranking, just a wealthy donor, but she walked with the confidence of a queen. She stepped into Jonas's personal space, far closer than etiquette allowed.

"A lovely speech, Alpha," she purred, her hand lingering on the lapel of his tuxedo jacket. Her fingers trailed down, brushing his chest.

Jonas didn't step back. In fact, I saw a muscle in his jaw jump—not with annoyance, but with restraint. He leaned in, just an inch, before catching himself.

"Thank you, Alana," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

That was when it hit me. A scent. It wasn't just her perfume—overpowering Chanel No. 5—but something beneath it. Musky, sweet, and undeniable. It was the scent of female arousal, clinging to my husband's jacket like a second skin.

A dormant instinct, one I thought had died years ago, prickled at the base of my neck. My hand went to my throat automatically. Jonas checked his watch, untangling himself from us. "I have to take a call from the Council. Valentina, stay here. Smile."

He left his tablet on the high-top table behind us. The screen lit up with a notification, then went dark.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I shouldn't. A good Luna trusts her Alpha. But the scent... it was suffocating me. I glanced around; the pack was distracted by the open bar. I slid the tablet toward me.

He thought I was stupid. He thought I’d forgotten the passcode was his own birthday.

I typed it in. The device unlocked.

It wasn't his official email open on the screen. It was a private social media account—a "Finsta." My breath hitched. There was only one recent post, uploaded two hours ago. The photo was intimate, taken in a bedroom I didn't recognize. Jonas was on his knees, his hands cradling a swollen, pregnant belly. Alana’s belly.

The caption read: *Finally, the Alpha Heir we deserve. Goodbye to the barren spare.*

The ballroom spun. The music warped into a hideous screech. I wasn't barren. He was replacing me. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow, shattering the fragile reality I had lived in for three years.

I didn't think. I didn't smile. I turned and ran.

I slipped out the servants' exit, ignoring the stinging wind as I sprinted across the grounds to the pack hospital. I needed proof. I needed to know why my body had failed me, or if that was a lie too.

The archives were dim, smelling of antiseptic and dust. I found Sarah, the apprentice healer, organizing files. She jumped when she saw me, her eyes widening at my disheveled state.

"Luna?" she whispered.

"Give me the real logs, Sarah," I gasped, my chest heaving. "Not the ones Dr. Webb shows Jonas. The real ones."

She hesitated, fear flickering in her eyes. Then, she reached under a loose floorboard behind the desk and pulled out a leather-bound book. Her hands shook as she passed it to me. "I... I didn't know how to tell you. I'm so sorry."

I tore it open. My finger traced the columns. *Daily Supplement Doses.* My eyes scanned the ingredients listed in Sarah’s frantic handwriting. Iron, Vitamin B... and *Aconitum*. Wolfsbane.

"He's been poisoning me," I whispered, the horror cold in my veins. "My wolf isn't dormant. She's drugged."

"How clever of you to finally catch on."

The voice came from the doorway. I spun around. Jonas stood there, silhouetted by the hall light. He didn't look sorry. He looked annoyed, like I was a stain he hadn't quite scrubbed out yet.

"You monster," I choked out, clutching the book to my chest. "You stole three years of my life! You poisoned your own mate!"

"I did what was necessary for the pack!" Jonas roared, stepping into the room. The air grew heavy with his Alpha aura. "I needed an heir, Valentina! Not a weak, broken thing from a pathetic bloodline!"

"I'm going to the Council," I said, my voice shaking but my chin high. "I'll show them this."

Jonas laughed, a cruel, barking sound. "No, you won't."

His eyes flashed red. He opened his mouth, and his voice layered with the supernatural weight of the Alpha command. **"KNEEL."**

My knees hit the linoleum with a sickening crack. I tried to stand, to fight, but the command locked my muscles. I was paralyzed, forced to look up at him.

"I'm done waiting," Jonas sneered, looking down at me with pure disgust. "I, Alpha Jonas Scott of the Shadow Creek Pack, reject you, Valentina Reed, as my mate and Luna."

The pain was instantaneous. It felt like a serrated blade tearing through my chest, severing the invisible thread that tied my soul to his. I screamed, curling in on myself as the bond shattered. It was a hollow, agonizing emptiness, worse than the poison.

Jonas crouched down, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at his smug face. "You will leave this territory tonight. You will become a Rogue. If you try to fight this, if you show that book to anyone... I will declare your father's pack traitors. I will burn their homes to the ground and hunt them for sport."

He shoved me back, standing up and straightening his jacket. "Get out of my sight, Rogue."