Rejected By My Mate, Claimed By The Alpha King

Calista is braiding my hair for my birthday. She’s taking her time doing it, tongue stuck between her teeth, the way she has since we were seven years old. Her fingers feel warm against my scalp, and her voice is soft.

"Tonight is going to be perfect," she says. "I promise."

And I believe her. That's the worst part of it all.

I believe her because Calista has been my best friend for eleven years. She knows everything, my deepest fears, and how hard I cried after my mother's funeral when nobody came to tell me it was actually over. She knows I've been dreaming about midnight since I was twelve.

"Stop smiling so much," she laughs, tugging gently. "You'll ruin the braid."

"I can't help it."

"I know." She kisses my cheek quickly. "Come on, birthday girl. Everyone's waiting."

Everyone is out behind the pack house waiting.

There are string lights draped between the trees and a bonfire crackling in the center of the lawn. Music is thumping from someone's phone speakers. There's a big banner strung across the porch that reads, "HAPPY 18TH, NYRA."

Calista did all of this. Just for me.

"Surprise!" they all shout.

It's about twenty wolves my age, people I've grown up alongside. Dani, Mira, and Tyler. All of them crowd in to hug me, one right after another.

My father isn't here, though. Marta mentioned he packed a pack of business tonight.

Of course he does.

I just swallow the sting of it and smile anyway.

"You're so lucky," Mira says, giving my arm a squeeze. "Brandt is absolutely going to lose his mind when he sees you."

"Wait, where is he?"

"Oh, getting something," Calista cuts in quickly. "Come dance with me."

So I dance. I laugh. I eat cake that has my name written on it in blue icing.

I notice Calista is wearing something silver around her neck that keeps catching the firelight.

When I look closer, my stomach drops a little.

"Is that my mom's locket?"

"Oh!" Calista touches it, feigning surprise. "You said I could wear it for luck tonight. Remember?"

I definitely didn't say that.

But I really don't want to start a fight tonight. So I just nod.

"Right. Sorry, I forgot."

"You're sweet," she says.

At 11:58, my wolf starts to wake up.

Soon, Vesper whispers. She's pacing inside my mind, feeling restless and warm.

The whole party goes quiet. Twenty wolves form a tight circle around the fire. Phones start coming out. Someone in the back says, "Make sure you get her good angle."

I give a nervous laugh. "Guys, it's just my mate. You really don't need to film it."

Nobody laughs back.

Midnight hits.

The mate pull slams right into my chest. It's hot and sharp, like a rope yanking me toward the dark edge of the lawn.

Brandt steps out from the treeline. Brown hair, brown eyes, his jacket hanging casually off one shoulder.

My heart just soars.

"Brandt," I breathe out. "It's you."

He doesn't smile back.

He just walks into the circle. Calista immediately moves to his side, almost as if she'd been planning that exact spot all night.

She takes his hand.

I stop breathing.

"Brandt?" I ask, confused.

He clears his throat. He won't look at me. He looks at the fire, the ground, literally anywhere else.

"Nyra Ashgrave," he says, voice flat. "I reject you as my mate."

I laugh.

I actually start laughing. It sounds short and totally wrong.

"That's not funny, Brandt."

"I, Brandt Hale, break the bond between us."

The words land like a physical blade.

Pain rips through my chest. It's not a spark; it's an explosion. It tears right through my ribs, spine, and lungs. I fold in half and hit the grass hard.

I can hear someone screaming. I realize it's mine.

Vesper howls inside me, a sound so broken I want to claw it out of my own throat just to stop it.

Through the haze of pain, I hear a voice.

"Told you she'd drop."

It's Tyler.

"Pay up," Dani says. I hear the sound of coins clinking and crumpled bills being exchanged.

I manage to lift my head.

They're betting. On me.

"Ten bucks says she begs," Mira chimes in. She's holding her phone out, recording everything. She's smirking.

Mira. The girl who held my hair back when I threw up at fifteen. The one I told about my mother.

"Mira," I whisper, pleading.

She looks at me. Just for a second, her smile slips.

But then Dani nudges her, and she laughs again, shaking it off.

"Sorry, Nyra," she says. "You know how it is."

I don't, though. I don't know anything.

I push myself up on shaking arms. Tears are falling into the grass now, and my face burns with humiliation.

"You knew," I say. My voice sounds hoarse. "All of you knew."

There's silence. Then Tyler just shrugs. "For weeks."

Weeks.

They hugged me. They braided my hair. They ate cake with my name on it, and they all knew. I turn to look at Calista. She's holding Brandt's arm like she owns the guy. Her eyes are practically shining.

She walks over and crouches down right in front of me. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear gently, exactly the way she did an hour ago.

"I'm sorry it hurts," she whispers. Her breath smells sweet, like cake. "But you've had everything your whole life, Nyra. The Alpha's daughter. The perfect little princess."

She leans in closer.

"It's my turn now."

My chest feels like it cracks open. Not from the bond breaking this time. From her.

"You were my best friend," I manage to say.

"I know," she smiles, terrifyingly calm. "That's why it worked so well."

She unclasps my mother's locket from around her neck, studies it for a second, then drops it casually into the dirt beside me.

"Keep it. I only needed it for luck tonight."

Someone starts laughing. Then another person joins in. Then all of them, a wave of noise rolling across the lawn while my whole body feels like it's burning.

Phones recording. The crackle. ng. Their laughter.

I want to scream, but I can't make a sound.

Then I hear the porch door open. Heavy footsteps on wood. Slow and steady.

I know those steps.

"Father," I whisper.

Alpha Gideon Ashgrave walks into the circle of firelight. He looks around at everyone. At Brandt. At Calista. Finally, I am on my knees in the dirt.

He doesn't look even slightly surprised.

"Father, please," I beg him. "Make them stop this. Tell them."

"The rejection is lawful, Nyra," he says coldly.

My heart just stops.

"Brandt asked for my permission last week," he adds almost casually. "I gave it."

The fire pops loudly in the silence.

Last week.

My own father knew. My father signed off on this happening. My father let them throw me a surprise party knowing this was coming.

"Why?" I breathe out.

He looks right past me, over my head.

"Go to your room, Nyra."

That's it. No apology. No fighting for me. No father.

Something inside of me suddenly goes quiet. It’s colder than the pain I'm feeling. Colder than the night air.

I reach down and pick up my mother's locket from the dirt.

I stand up, even though my legs scream in protest.

The whole lawn is still full of laughing people, phones still raised in the air. I look at every single face. I memorize them all.

Then I turn and walk away. Slowly at first. Then faster. Then I start running, past the porch, past the kitchen windows, into the darkness behind the stables where nobody can see me.

I collapse against the cold stone wall there. I still don't cry, though. I feel too empty for tears.

The moon hangs fat and silver overhead. Suddenly, my left wrist starts to burn.

I look down. That little scar I've hated since childhood is glowing. It’s a thin silver line, bright as starlight.

Nyra, Vesper says. Her voice sounds different now. Stronger. Something else is waking up.

Before I can answer her, I hear voices coming from the kitchen door nearby.

"Did she drink the tea today?"

It’s my father’s voice.

"Yes, Alpha," Marta whispers back.

"Good." I hear him exhale heavily. "Keep giving it to her. If her true wolf wakes up, we're finished."

My wrist absolutely blazes with heat. Silver light spills across the dark ground at my feet.

I stop breathing entirely.

The tea. Every single morning. For as long as I can remember.

And for the first time tonight, I'm not about to cry.

I'm listening.

I don't wait. I push through the kitchen door so hard it slams into the wall.

My father and Marta both turn.

Marta's face goes white. The cup in her hands rattles against its saucer.

"Nyra," my father says. Calm. Cold. "Go to your room."

"The tea." My voice is raw. "What's in it?"

Nobody answers.

My wrist is still blazing. Silver light spills across the tile, bright enough to light the whole kitchen. My father's eyes flick to it. For a split second, I see something I've never seen on his face.

Fear.

"Marta," he says quietly. "Take her upstairs."

"No." I step toward him. "Tell me."

"You're in pain. You're not thinking."

"I'm thinking perfectly." My teeth are clenched. "Every morning for eighteen years. What is it?"

He doesn't blink.

"Medicine," he says. "For your health."

"Liar."

The word is out before I can stop it. It echoes through the kitchen.

My father's hand moves so fast I don't see