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.

Aurelia POV

The word "life" hung in the warm, herb-scented air of the suite, heavy and suffocating. The blood drained from my face, leaving my skin as cold as ice. Panic seized my throat, choking the breath out of me.

"She isn't pregnant, Grandmother," Graves interrupted, his voice a low, dismissive rumble that vibrated with absolute certainty. He didn't even look at me.

Cecelia’s wise eyes hardened, the warm grandmotherly facade vanishing to reveal the formidable former Luna. "A Fated Mate bond is the Goddess's greatest gift for procreation. Three years, Graves. Explain to your Pack why the Lycan line remains silent."

The words were a sharp blade slicing through the room's tension. Graves’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes flashing with suppressed irritation at having his authority questioned. "We have been focused on expanding the Pack's corporate holdings. The WorldLink Group requires my full attention, and Aurelia is my assistant."

"An assistant?" Cecelia let out a bitter, mocking laugh that made Graves stiffen. "I arranged for her to be by your side so she could shine as your Luna, not be treated as your servant! A Luna's place is at the heart of the Pack, commanding respect, not filing your paperwork!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Graves’s Alpha aura flared, dark and oppressive, clashing with the Elder’s unyielding presence. I stood frozen between them, my hands trembling as I desperately guarded the secret growing in my womb. If Graves found out now, before I could execute the Rejection, he would never let me go.

"I will see to it," Graves finally ground out, the words clipped and cold.

"We will communicate better, Elder Cecelia," I murmured, forcing a weak, reassuring smile to defuse the ticking time bomb. "Please don't worry about us."

Minutes later, we stepped out of the suite into the long, polished corridor of the Sanatorium. The air around Graves was thick with the scent of impending storm and rich leather, suffocating in its intensity. I could feel the raw, suppressed rage radiating from his massive frame.

Instinctively, I took a deliberate step away from him, putting distance between our bodies so I wouldn't trigger another outburst.

Graves stopped dead in his tracks. He turned his head, his deep, glacial eyes locking onto the empty space between us. A flicker of primal pain crossed his features—his Inner Wolf stung and offended by its mate's physical withdrawal. But the vulnerability vanished in a microsecond, replaced by a dark, furious scowl. He saw my fear not as self-preservation, but as a calculated act of defiance.

He didn't say a word. He just turned and kept walking, the chasm between us widening with every step.

The silent, suffocating tension followed us all the way back to the Alpha's Estate. When we finally reached the second floor, we stood before the heavy, moon-carved double doors of the Luna's Chambers.

Knowing what I planned to do, and terrified of his volatile mood, I couldn't share a bed with him tonight. I turned my body, intending to walk down the hall toward the guest wing.

I didn't even make it one step before I hit a wall of solid muscle.

Graves blocked my path, his chest rising and falling with heavy, angry breaths. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To the guest room," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the floor. "I think it's best if we—"

"Trying to create more drama for my grandmother to witness, little wolf?" he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. He stepped into my space, his overwhelming Alpha aura pinning me in place. "Running to her so she can fight your battles? Is that your strategy now?"

"No! I just—"

He grabbed my arm, his grip a brutal, inescapable vise. The electric jolt of our mate-bond sparked against my skin, a cruel contrast to the ice in his eyes.

"*Stay put,*" he commanded, the Alpha's Command vibrating through my bones, forcing my muscles to lock in absolute submission. "If you cause my grandmother one ounce of worry with your pathetic little games, I will make sure your home Pack pays the price. Do you understand me?"

Tears of frustration and terror pricked my eyes, but I couldn't move. I could only watch as he reached past me, shoving the heavy doors of the bedroom open. He stepped aside, his dark eyes silently ordering me inside.