Reborn Luna: Reject My Unwanted Alpha

Kaia POV:

"Alpha Bryce and Lady Ferne made a sacred vow to one another long before today!" Chloe screamed, slamming her palms into the wet grass. "They share an unspoken bond!"

A collective gasp ripped through the crowd of nobles, followed by a wave of sharp, judgmental murmurs that turned instantly toward me.

My stomach did not drop. My heart did not race.

Instead, a dark, vindictive satisfaction bloomed in my chest. Hearing their filthy secret spoken aloud didn't bring tears; it only made my blood turn to pure, calculating ice. Finally, the ugly truth was out in the light.

Bryce froze, his face flushing crimson. He took a hesitant step toward me, hands half-raised in a feeble attempt to placate the crowd, but his spine lacked the courage to close the distance.

Ferne collapsed entirely against the mud, tears streaming down her pale cheeks as she choked out her words.

"Chloe, stop... please, be quiet," Ferne whimpered, ensuring every noble within twenty paces heard her trembling plea. "It wasn't real! Bryce and I were just playing a silly game. We never meant for it to be taken seriously..."

Watching her pathetic performance, a wave of profound nausea washed over me. The sheer audacity of her crocodile tears was almost laughable.

Sadie shook with pure fury beside me. Her hand dropped to the hilt of the silver dagger at her belt, her knuckles white.

"Shut your treacherous mouth!" Sadie snapped.

I caught Sadie's wrist, pressing it down to keep the steel sheathed. I wouldn't let my loyal friend dirty her hands. Stepping past her, I faced the pack of parasites staring at us. There was no room for weakness today, only the cold, hard ash of resolve.

I walked forward, my eyes locked onto Ferne's tear-stained face.

"A vow spoken between wolves is witnessed by the Moon Goddess Herself," I said, my voice steady and deadly calm, cutting through her pathetic lies. "Whether you claim it was a joke or not, the bond is forged, and the truth remains."

I then turned my gaze to Bryce. With every stride I took, he stepped back involuntarily until his spine hit the trunk of an ancient cedar.

I stopped two feet away, locking onto his shifty grey gaze.

"And tell me, Bryce," I continued, a fierce, protective rage flaring in my chest at the thought of my mother's legacy. "If you two had already established a sacred vow, why did you say nothing when the Montgomery Pack delivered three carriages of land deeds and gold for my dowry?"

Bryce stammered, his Adam's apple bobbing erratically.

"That is entirely different, Kaia," he pleaded, desperately trying to salvage his dignity. "Accepting your dowry was necessary to ensure the stability of our pack alliance. Besides... I didn't want to break your heart by rejecting you at the last minute."

A cold laugh tore from my throat, loud enough to echo off the stone pillars of the ceremonial pavilion.

"Break my heart?" I asked, turning slightly so every pack elder could see the disgust on my face. The mere mention of my mother's wealth sent a sharp ache through my chest, instantly hardening into pure fury. I would not let these leeches drain her hard-earned legacy. "Using the vast estates left behind by my late mother, Lady Evelyn Benton, to finance your secret lover's lavish lifestyle under the guise of an alliance—is that what passes for honor in the Mendoza Pack?"

The elders in the front row bristled, their expressions darkening with severe disapproval.

Among noble werewolves, squandering a highborn female's maternal inheritance to harbor a secret mistress was an unforgivable stain on pack honor.

Ferne saw the tide turning against them. She dragged herself across the grass, reaching out a muddy, trembling hand toward the hem of my dress.

"Sister... please, it isn't like that," Ferne sobbed. "Bryce was only trying to protect me. He has done nothing wrong..."

I took a smooth step back, letting her fingers claw empty air and plunge into the dirt.

"Do not touch me," I said, looking down at her filthy fingers, my skin crawling with revulsion. "A Mating Ceremony woven from deceit is not an alliance. It is a calculated theft of noble blood and legacy."

Bryce's jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared. Humiliated and cornered, he tapped into his Alpha aura, releasing a heavy, suffocating wave of dominant pheromones meant to force my knees to buckle.

Deep in my chest, my dormant White Wolf flared to life, roaring against his filthy dominance with absolute, unadulterated disgust. How dare this pathetic excuse for a male try to break me?

Instead of cowering, I straightened my spine, letting the ice in my pale blue eyes bore into his skull. I wanted him to feel the exact moment he lost control over me forever.

The raw, ancient authority slumbering in my veins pushed back against his cheap parlor trick. Bryce grunted under the invisible backlash, staggering back against the tree as his aura shattered like cheap glass.

Before the silence could settle, the heavy oak doors of the Mendoza Packhouse swung open with a deafening crash.

Beatrice Mendoza, the dowager lady of the territory, swept down the stone path, flanked by four armed sentries.

Her deep crimson velvet gown trailed behind her, her face carved from furious marble. Just the sight of her arrogant face made my pulse hammer with a dark urge. It took every ounce of willpower to keep my expression impassive.

Beatrice shoved her way through the murmuring guests, casting a furious glare at Ferne before fixing her cold eyes on me.

She forced a tight, condescending smile onto her lips and reached out to take my hands.

"Kaia, dearest," Beatrice said smoothly, trying to wrap her fingers around mine. "This is nothing more than foolish children making a scene. Let us not air private matters before the entire kingdom."

I felt the sharp pinch of her manicured nails attempting to dig into my skin.

I pulled my hands away with sharp precision, crossing them over my chest in a rigid stance of noble defense.

"This is not a petty squabble, Lady Beatrice," I replied, my tone polite yet laced with steel. "This is a deliberate insult to the honor of the entire Montgomery bloodline."

Beatrice's fake smile vanished instantly. She leaned in, lowering her voice so that only I could hear the venom dripping from her words.

"You push this today, girl, and you leave as a rejected female. A discarded wolf will never find a place in the high courts of the capital."

A rejected female. The words were meant to be a death sentence, a terror that would force any noble lady to yield. But as they hung in the air, a profound, exhilarating sense of liberation washed over me. I didn't fear rejection; I craved it. It was my ticket to freedom.

I tilted my chin, meeting her venomous glare without a single flinch, a triumphant smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"I would rather walk the wilderness alone for eternity than share a sacred bond with a family of thieves."

Ferne let out a bloodcurdling shriek from the ground.

Before anyone could react, she reached into the cuff of her riding boot and pulled out a gleaming, polished blade.

A collective shout of panic erupted from the surrounding crowd.

It was a dagger forged from pure silver, the one weapon capable of burning a werewolf's soul to ash.

Ferne pressed the razor edge directly against the pulse point of her neck. A thin line of crimson welled up instantly, and she glared at me with desperate, crazed eyes.