Aurelia POV

"What are you doing standing in the rain?"

His voice sliced through the torrential downpour, sharp and devoid of the warmth he had just showered upon Davina. I stood frozen on the driveway, my soaked dress clinging to my shivering frame.

Graves’s jaw was clenched tight. I could feel the suffocating weight of his Alpha aura—a potent, dizzying blend of impending storm and rich leather—crushing the air out of my lungs. His Inner Wolf was pacing, agitated and restless. I knew it was because his Lycan blood could sense his mate's profound agony, but Graves, blinded by his own arrogance, clearly misinterpreted the primal itch as irritation at my disobedience.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Because I was wolfless, I couldn't use the Pack's Mind-Link to explain the shattered pieces of my heart, nor could I scream that I had seen him with his first love.

"Stop acting like a fool and get inside," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He didn't offer his jacket. He didn't reach out to touch me. His indifference twisted in my chest like a silver dagger, carving out the last pathetic remnants of my hope. I lowered my head and walked past him into the freezing, cavernous estate.

Twenty minutes later, I emerged from the steaming shower, wrapped tightly in a thick robe. The hot water had done nothing to thaw the ice in my veins. As I stepped into the Luna's chambers, I halted.

Graves was standing by the massive four-poster bed, holding a ceramic bowl that emitted a pungent, bitter steam.

"Drink this," he ordered, stepping toward me. "Elder Cecelia just mind-linked me. We are visiting the Pack's healing center tomorrow morning. I will not have you falling ill and embarrassing me in front of my grandmother."

I stared at the dark, sludgy liquid. It was a specialized Pack Doctor's brew, potent enough to shock a werewolf's immune system into overdrive. For a wolfless human, it was harsh. For the tiny, fragile life newly blooming in my womb, it could be lethal.

"No," I said, taking a step back, my hands instinctively moving to shield my flat stomach. "I don't need it."

Graves’s eyes darkened, a dangerous rumble vibrating in his chest. To him, my refusal wasn't fear; it was a direct challenge to his Alpha authority. He didn't know about the baby. He only saw a defiant, useless wife.

"I wasn't asking, Aurelia."

Before I could run, he closed the distance between us. He lifted the bowl, took a large mouthful of the scalding brew, and dropped the ceramic onto the carpet. His large hand gripped my jaw, tilting my head back as his mouth crashed down on mine.

I whimpered, struggling against his iron grip, but he forced my lips part, pushing the bitter liquid down my throat. The moment our lips locked, the undeniable, electric *Spark* of Fated Mates exploded between us. It was a sensation that usually made my toes curl, but right now, it only brought a wave of sickening humiliation. I was forced to swallow the poison that could hurt my pup.

The taste of the herbs mixed with his intoxicating scent. The kiss, meant to be a punishment, suddenly shifted. The Spark ignited the ancient Lycan blood in his veins. His grip on my jaw softened, his other hand tangling in my damp hair as a possessive growl tore from his throat.

He shoved me backward. I hit the mattress, the cold silk sheets sending a shock up my spine. Graves loomed over me, his eyes entirely black as his Inner Wolf took control. He reached up, violently loosening his tie, ready to claim what the Moon Goddess had given him.

Panic and a fierce, maternal instinct surged through my veins. I couldn't let him touch me. I couldn't let this lie continue.

I planted both hands on his solid chest and shoved him with every ounce of strength I possessed.

"Stop!" I gasped, scrambling backward against the headboard. I looked straight into his pitch-black eyes, my voice trembling but crystal clear. "I want to perform the Rejection."

The word *Rejection* hit the room like a blast of liquid nitrogen.

Graves froze. The lust in his eyes shattered, instantly replaced by a storm of disbelief and towering rage. A wolfless weakling, a woman who supposedly needed his protection to survive, was daring to sever the most sacred bond in our world.

He slowly straightened up, the dangerous predator replaced by a cold, calculating businessman. He let out a dark, mocking chuckle that made my blood run cold.

"Is that what this is?" he sneered, stepping closer until his knees hit the edge of the bed. "More territory for your failing Pack? More gold? Name your price for not going through with this farce."

The insult burned, but it only solidified my resolve. He truly didn't know me at all.

"I want nothing from you," I said, lifting my chin. "Only my freedom."

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Graves stared at me, his eyes narrowing as if he were looking at a stranger. He didn't yell. He didn't command.

I gripped the edges of my robe, my heart pounding against my ribs as I asked the one question that had been haunting me all night.

"Why? Don't you want to reject me, Alpha?"

Aurelia POV

Graves stared at me, the silence in the Luna's chambers stretching so tight I thought it might snap and take my head off. The mocking amusement vanished from his face, replaced by a terrifying, glacial fury. His Lycan blood and Alpha pride were bleeding, insulted that a wolfless weakling was the one demanding to sever our sacred bond.

I could feel his Inner Wolf thrashing beneath his skin, howling in an agony he clearly misinterpreted as pure rage.

"Fine," his voice dropped to a lethal, vibrating whisper. "You want the Rejection? You'll have it."

He stepped closer, and the sheer force of his Alpha aura—a suffocating, heavy wave of impending storm and rich leather—crushed the air from my lungs. I pressed my back hard against the headboard, refusing to look away.

"But know this, Aurelia," he sneered, his eyes entirely devoid of the man I once thought I loved. "When this is done, and you are out there with nothing, do not expect my mercy. You will regret this. And when you come crawling back to my territory, begging for scraps like a banished Omega, I will step right over you."

He didn't wait for my response. He turned on his heel and strode out of the freezing bedroom. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind him with a deafening crack that rattled the floorboards.

The moment his scent began to fade, the last of my strength evaporated. I collapsed onto the cold silk sheets, pulling my knees to my chest as violent sobs tore through my throat. The mate-bond was already fracturing, bleeding out into the dark. I pressed a trembling hand to my flat stomach. *He will never know,* I promised the tiny life blooming inside me. *I will protect you from him.*

The next morning, the atmosphere at WorldLink Group's headquarters was suffocating.

Graves's grand welcome for Davina Stewart had already spread through the Pack's Mind-Link like wildfire. As I sat at my desk outside the Alpha's office, acting as his "personal assistant," I was completely shut out of their telepathic chatter. But I didn't need a wolf to understand the smirks and the blatant disrespect.

A group of female Pack members clustered near the water cooler, their cheap perfumes mixing into a nauseating cloud.

"Is it true he's moving Davina into the east wing?" one of them asked, her eyes darting toward me with malicious curiosity. "You must know something, Aurelia. You're right outside his door."

I kept my eyes on my monitor, the sting of their exclusion burning my chest. "I don't know."

"Oh, please," another scoffed, leaning against my desk. "Stop acting so high and mighty. We all know who the real Luna is."

I slowly looked up, meeting her gaze with a cold, detached authority I didn't know I possessed. "Your job is to work, not to gossip about the Alpha's affairs."

They recoiled, momentarily stunned by my tone. But as they scattered back to their cubicles, their hushed whispers reached my ears. *Useless wolfless bitch. Once Davina is officially Luna, she'll be tossed out like garbage. She'll be a Rogue by the end of the week.*

I clenched my fists under the desk, swallowing the bitter pill of my reality.

By the time evening fell, the sprawling office had emptied out. I stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city lights flicker to life. My human cell phone buzzed in my hand.

It was Blake Giles, my fiercely loyal best friend and the daughter of the Silver Creek Pack's Beta.

"Aurelia," Blake's voice crackled through the speaker, tight with anxiety. "My brother just told me about the Black Moon Pack's little welcome party. Tell me it's a lie."

"It's true," I said softly, leaning my forehead against the cool glass. "But it doesn't matter anymore, Blake. I asked him for the Rejection last night."

Blake gasped. "Are you insane? Where will you go? What about..." She paused, lowering her voice. "What about the baby?"

"He doesn't know, and he never will," I replied, my voice steadying. "I'm leaving him, Blake. I'm resigning tomorrow. And I'm bringing her back."

Silence hung on the line for a long second before Blake let out a breathless laugh. "You mean..."

"Yes," I said, a spark of genuine fire igniting in my chest for the first time in three years. "I gave up my entire life, my design empire, to be a good little wolfless wife. No more. Sloane Todd is returning."

"Hell yes," Blake cheered fiercely. "I'll get my contacts ready. We're going to take the fashion world by storm again, Aurelia. You won't need him."

"Thank you, Blake."

I lowered the phone, a fragile sense of hope finally taking root in my heart. I turned around to head back to my desk, but my breath hitched in my throat.

A massive shadow filled the doorway of my office, blocking out the hallway light. The suffocating, intoxicating scent of impending storm and rich leather instantly flooded the room.

Aurelia POV

My phone slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering onto the desk. Graves stood in the doorway, his massive frame blocking the hallway light. The suffocating, intoxicating scent of impending storm and rich leather instantly swallowed the room.

Did he hear me? Panic clawed at my throat. I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. But his glacial eyes held no recognition of my secret plans, only a dark, restless agitation. I could sense his Inner Wolf pacing beneath his skin, bleeding from the fractured bond and our impending separation, though Graves clearly mistook the primal ache for pure annoyance at my disobedience.

He didn't ask who I was talking to. He didn't care.

"We're leaving," he commanded, his voice a lethal, vibrating whip that left no room for argument. "Now."

I swallowed hard, lowering my gaze to hide my guilt, and silently followed him out.

The ride in his custom-built, armored SUV was a suffocating cage. The tinted windows trapped his overwhelming Alpha aura inside with me. A wave of nausea hit me—the early signs of the secret growing in my womb—and I pressed myself against the cold leather door, my skin pale and clammy.

Suddenly, he leaned in. The sheer force of his proximity stole the air from my lungs. I flinched, memories of last night's forced kiss and the bitter medicine flashing through my mind. But he only raised his hand, the icy back of his knuckles brushing against my forehead.

For a fraction of a second, my traitorous heart fluttered. A ridiculous, pathetic thought whispered that maybe he cared.

Then, his jaw clenched. "Whatever game you're playing, stop it," he snapped, pulling his hand back as if my skin burned him. "Your paleness will upset my grandmother, and I will not have her health compromised by your theatrics."

The words felt like a silver blade twisting in my chest. I stared at his sharp profile, the last fragile illusion of the man I loved shattering into dust. He didn't care about my pain. He only cared about his Pack and his family. I bit the inside of my cheek, my resolve to execute the Rejection hardening into steel.

We arrived at the Pack's private Sanatorium. The scent of medicinal herbs and old pine hung heavy in the crisp night air. As we walked toward the entrance, I deliberately slowed my pace, unable to stomach the thought of playing his devoted Luna.

Graves stopped. His eyes darkened as he noted the Pack Doctors and Warriors bowing their heads in respect as they passed. He stepped into my space, his voice dropping to a vicious whisper meant only for my ears.

"You wanted the Rejection. How it proceeds—quickly and quietly, or slowly and painfully for your pathetic home Pack—depends on your performance in the next hour."

A chill seeped into my bones. He was holding my entire Pack hostage over a performance. I had no choice. I stepped forward and stiffly looped my arm through his. The electric jolt of our mate-bond sparked at the contact, a cruel, mocking reminder of what we were supposed to be.

Elder Cecelia's suite was warm, bathed in the soft, warm light of several elegant lamps. The silver-haired former Luna sat in a plush armchair, her sharp, wise eyes lighting up as we entered arm-in-arm.

"Graves. Aurelia," she greeted warmly, reaching out.

I forced a smile, stepping forward to take her frail, wrinkled hands. But as she pulled me closer, Cecelia paused. Her nose twitched. The smile on her face shifted into something far more profound and terrifyingly perceptive.

She inhaled deeply, her gaze piercing right through my carefully constructed defenses.

"Aurelia, my child," Cecelia murmured, a knowing smile touching her lips. "Your scent… it has the whisper of new life in it."

The blood drained from my face. My entire body turned to ice. Panic, raw and suffocating, seized my lungs as I instinctively shot a terrified glance at Graves. Beside me, the Alpha's brow furrowed in deep, dangerous confusion.