When My Alpha Rejected Me, The Lycan Prince Chose Me

I stood in the hallway outside the Alpha's study, smoothing down the front of my dress one more time. Three years. Three years of waiting, of trusting, of believing that William's silence meant careful consideration rather than something else entirely. Tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight, at the private gathering he'd called for his inner circle, he was finally going to announce our bond.

At least, that's what I'd told myself.

The study door was cracked open just enough that I could hear voices inside. William's deep rumble. Raymond Cole's lighter tenor. I lifted my hand to knock, then froze.

"—can't believe you kept it going this long," Raymond was saying. He sounded amused. "Three years, man. That's dedication."

William laughed. The sound made something cold slide down my spine.

"It had to be convincing," William said. His voice carried that easy Alpha confidence I'd always found reassuring. Until now. "Victoria needed to see that I'd moved on. That I wasn't sitting around waiting for her. A she-wolf like her—proud, territorial—she needed to feel like she was losing something."

"And Camille?" Raymond asked.

I pressed my thumb against the inside of my opposite wrist. Hard.

"Camille served her purpose," William said, and the casual dismissal in his tone was worse than any shout could have been. "She's sweet. Loyal. Exactly the kind of she-wolf who'd stay close without demanding anything permanent. I never marked her. Never announced her. She knew what this was."

"Did she, though?" Raymond's laugh was sharp. "Because from where I'm standing, she looks like a she-wolf who thinks she's about to become Luna."

"Then she wasn't paying attention." William's chair creaked. "Tonight's gathering isn't about her. It's about Victoria. She's back from Ironveil, Raymond. Finally. And now that she's seen I'm not some pathetic Alpha pining after her, she'll come back to me properly. The way it was always supposed to be."

"Three years is a long game."

"Three years to get my fated mate back? Worth every second." William paused. "Besides, Camille will be fine. She'll find some mid-rank wolf who'll be thrilled to have her. She's not Luna material anyway."

They both laughed.

I stood there in the hallway, my hand still raised, my thumb pressing harder against my wrist until I could feel my pulse hammering beneath the pressure. The study door was cracked open. The mind-link was accidentally left open. They had no idea I could hear every word.

Three years.

A jealousy prop.

Never Luna material.

I lowered my hand. Smoothed my dress one more time. Then I turned and walked down the hallway with the same measured pace I'd used to approach. I didn't run. I didn't cry. I didn't make a sound.

The pack house was full of wolves preparing for the gathering—Victoria's welcome-back party, I realized now with a clarity that felt like ice water. They nodded at me as I passed. A few smiled. None of them knew. How could they? I'd been so careful to keep my face neutral, my posture calm, my voice steady whenever anyone asked when William would finally make it official.

I stepped outside into the cool night air. The moon was nearly full, bright enough to cast shadows across the gravel drive where my car was parked. I got in. Closed the door. Sat with my hands on the steering wheel.

Then I pulled out my phone and called my brother.

Mitchell answered on the second ring. "Camille? What's wrong?"

"It's over," I said. My voice sounded calm. Distant. Like it belonged to someone else. "I'm ready."

There was a pause. Then Mitchell's voice came back, tight with something that might have been fury. "The alliance?"

"Yes."

"With Morrison? The Lycan Prince?"

"Yes."

Another pause. Longer this time. "Camille, are you certain? Once this is set in motion—"

"I'm certain," I said. "I should have been certain three years ago."

Mitchell exhaled slowly. "I'll make the call tonight. He's been... waiting."

"Good," I said.

"Camille." Mitchell's voice softened just slightly. "What happened?"

I looked up at the pack house. Through the windows, I could see wolves gathering. Laughing. Preparing for a celebration I would not be attending.

"I'll tell you later," I said. "Right now, I just need to go home."

"You're still on Silverfang territory," Mitchell said carefully. "Do you need me to come get you?"

"No." I started the engine. "I can walk away on my own."

I ended the call. Put the car in drive. And left the Silverfang pack house behind without looking back.

Three years of my life. Three years of loyalty, of patience, of believing that silence meant something other than indifference.

William Gray had used me. Deliberately. Methodically. For three years.

I pressed my thumb against my wrist one more time as I drove. Then I released it.

I wouldn't need that gesture anymore. I wouldn't need to hold anything back.

Because I was done.