Rejected by My Alpha

The air in the Silver Moon Pack’s headquarters felt heavier than usual as Thalia stood at the entrance, her sharpened senses picking up on the faintest traces of a familiar scent—one that didn’t belong to her. Her wolf stirred uneasily in the back of her mind, a low growl forming in her throat, but she silenced it with a firm mental command. She couldn’t shake the gnawing suspicion that her worst fears were about to be confirmed.

A moment later, a cheerful female voice broke through the tension, carrying the scent of rosemary and vanilla—a scent that shouldn’t have been so prominent in Waylon’s space. "I brought pasta salad and some chicken stew today; you should try some later," the woman said, her tone light and carefree.

"Sure," Waylon replied, his deep voice carrying the usual authority of an Alpha, but with an undercurrent of warmth that made Thalia’s stomach twist.

"Oh no! Whiskers! How did you get out here?!" the woman exclaimed, her voice rising in playful alarm.

Thalia froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned her head sharply, her amber eyes locking onto the scene unfolding before her. A man and a woman walked side by side, their closeness unmistakable. The chill that ran up her spine had nothing to do with the coolness of the evening air.

The man was Waylon, her mate and the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack. His towering frame, muscular and imposing, was a testament to his rank and strength. But it wasn’t his physical presence that struck her—it was the way he leaned slightly forward, his posture softening as he listened to the woman beside him. His expression, usually stern and commanding, was filled with a tenderness Thalia hadn’t seen directed at her in years.

The woman was petite, her delicate features framed by golden hair that caught the light. Her voice, sweet and melodic, was the same one Thalia had heard in the background of Waylon’s Instagram story a few days ago. She moved with an ease that suggested she belonged here, in Waylon’s space, more than Thalia ever had.

When the woman spotted Whiskers, the wolf pup nestled in Alaya’s arms, her eyes lit up with delight. She hurried forward, her laughter ringing out as she scooped the pup into her arms, cooing softly. Waylon’s gaze followed her, his amber eyes filled with unmistakable warmth and affection—affection that should have been reserved for his Luna.

But then, as if sensing her presence, Waylon’s gaze shifted. His eyes traveled past Alaya and the woman, landing directly on Thalia standing at the office entrance. In an instant, any trace of softness vanished from his face, replaced by the cold, detached expression she had become all too familiar with.

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Thalia’s wolf growled again, louder this time, but she forced herself to remain composed. She was the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, and she wouldn’t let him see her falter.

"Alpha," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "I didn’t realize you had company."

Waylon’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately. The woman, still cradling Whiskers, glanced between them, her smile fading slightly as she sensed the tension.

"Thalia," Waylon finally said, his tone clipped. "This is Emmie Anderson, one of our Deltas. She’s been helping with Whiskers."

Emmie offered a hesitant smile, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. "It’s an honor to meet you, Luna," she said, her voice soft and deferential.

Thalia nodded curtly, her gaze never leaving Waylon’s. "I see," she replied, her tone icy. "Perhaps the Alpha would like to explain why one of our Deltas is so... comfortable in his den?"

Waylon’s expression darkened, but before he could respond, Emmie spoke up. "I’m so sorry, Luna. I didn’t mean to overstep. I just thought—"

"That’s enough, Emmie," Waylon interrupted, his voice firm. He stepped forward, his presence commanding as he addressed Thalia. "We’ll discuss this later. Alone."

Thalia’s lips curled into a bitter smile. "Of course, Alpha," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I wouldn’t want to interrupt your... hospitality."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the headquarters, her head held high despite the ache in her chest. Her wolf howled in frustration, but Thalia silenced it with a sharp mental command. She wouldn’t let him see her break—not now, not ever.