After My Alpha Chose Her, I Became the Lycan Queen

The morning sun filtered through the blinds of Jake's office, casting prison-bar shadows across the polished wood floor. I stood outside his door, my hand trembling slightly as I knocked. The scent hit me before he even opened it—vanilla, sickly sweet and overwhelming. Kyla's scent. It clung to him like a second skin.

"Ellie." Jake's voice held none of last night's warmth. He stepped aside, allowing me to enter while maintaining distance between us.

I stepped into his office, noting how he'd positioned himself behind his desk—a barrier between us. "We need to talk about what happened."

"What happened was an emergency." His tone was clipped, defensive. "Kyla was in crisis."

"And our ceremony? Our mate bond?" I fought to keep my voice steady. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Jake's eyes flickered with guilt before hardening again. "You're being selfish, Ellie. Someone needed help."

"I'm being selfish?" The laugh that escaped me was bitter, brittle. "My father gave me an ultimatum. Either I complete our marking by the next full moon, or—" I stopped short of revealing my true lineage. "Or I'll be forced into something worse."

"You're just jealous." Jake's accusation stung like a physical blow. "Kyla nearly died last month during that rogue attack. She has trauma, Ellie. Real trauma."

"And I don't?" I stepped closer, willing him to see the pain in my eyes. "I need you to mark me, Jake. Today. Now."

His jaw tightened. "I can't. Not until Kyla's stable."

"How long will that take?"

"Weeks, maybe. She needs consistent support right now."

The words hit me like ice water. Weeks. My father would never allow that.

---

The infirmary smelled of antiseptic and false hope. I pushed open the door without knocking, my last desperate attempt to reach Jake.

The scene before me froze my blood.

Jake sat on the edge of Kyla's bed, carefully spooning soup into her mouth. She looked perfectly healthy—her cheeks flushed with color, her eyes bright and alert. Nothing like the convulsing, terrified she-wolf from last night.

"Open up," Jake murmured tenderly. "This will make you feel better."

Kyla's eyes met mine over his shoulder, and the smirk that curved her lips was pure venom. She shifted deliberately, pressing closer to Jake's side.

"Jake," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He turned, surprise flickering across his face. "Ellie, I thought you were at work."

"I needed to see you." My gaze dropped to his hand, still holding the spoon. "To talk about us."

"Later," he said, dismissing me. Then, with intimate tenderness that shattered what remained of my heart, he brushed a strand of hair from Kyla's face.

The gesture was so casual, so loving—it was everything he'd failed to give me at our ceremony.

Something broke inside me then. The careful control I'd maintained for six years—suppressing my Alpha aura, playing the role of ordinary she-wolf—cracked apart like thin ice.

I stepped fully into the room, and the air changed. Power crackled around me, electric and undeniable. The true daughter of the Obsidian Claw Alpha revealed at last.

Jake's eyes widened as the pressure in the room intensified. A glass vase on the nearby table shattered, fragments raining down on the floor.

"Ellie?" His voice wavered with uncertainty.

I straightened my spine, channeling every lesson my father had ever taught me about power and dignity.

"I, Ellie Stewart," I began, each word precise and cutting, "reject you, Jake Hayes, as my mate."

The formal words hung in the air between us. The bond that had begun to form last night—that golden thread of connection—snapped violently.

Jake doubled over, a wet, terrible sound tearing from his throat. Blood spattered the floor as he vomited, his body rejecting the severance as violently as my heart was rejecting him.

I stood motionless, absorbing the agony that ripped through my own chest. The pain was excruciating—like having part of my soul torn away—but I refused to show weakness.

Without another word, I turned and walked out of the infirmary, leaving Jake broken on the floor behind me.

The corridor stretched before me, empty and silent. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear my father's voice through our mind-link: "Two days left, little wolf."

I touched the unmarked spot on my neck, feeling the weight of my choices closing in around me.