Rejected by My Alpha

Waylon forgot to mute the live audio on his Instagram story, and the playful voice of a girl echoed in the background, sharp and unmistakable.

"My lingerie got ruined again because of you."

"Can you stay with me just one more day? I don’t want you going back to *her*."

Thalia, Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, was tipped off by a well-meaning packmate. She stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the story. In the past, she might have cried, thrown a tantrum, or even threatened something drastic. But now, she simply hit the like button and scrolled away.

---

Waylon called her later that evening.

"My flight’s delayed. Don’t wait up for dinner."

His voice was flat, cold, and distant, even over the phone. The excuse sounded rehearsed, almost indifferent.

Previously, Thalia would have responded with, "It’s okay, Alpha. What time will you be home? I’ll wait for you." She would have kept chatting to pass the time while he was stuck at the airport, clinging to whatever scraps of his attention she could get.

But now, she merely murmured an indifferent "Mm-hmm." She didn’t even bother to say, "Have a good trip, Alpha."

...

Because the night before, before falling asleep, Thalia had stumbled upon Waylon’s Instagram story. It was strange—someone like him, who rarely shared updates about their marking ceremony or pack events, suddenly posting a story was unusual. She eagerly clicked on it, ready to give it a like after watching, but then she heard the voice.

Waylon had forgotten to mute the live sound on his story. The girl’s playful voice was unmistakably clear.

"Are you reporting back to *her* again?"

"Ugh, my lingerie got ruined again because of you."

"Can’t you stay with me one more day? I don’t want you going back to *her*."

At first, the lively voice made Thalia think it was perhaps some random couple. Until she swiped to the last photo.

Then she heard Waylon’s low, indulgent laugh.

"I’ll buy you new ones."

For as long as she had known Waylon, he had always been distant—an unapproachable Alpha, calm and composed, reserved and discreet. Thalia always thought a person like him couldn’t possibly speak such intimate words openly. After all, when she had tried to whisper sweet nothings to him in the past, Waylon would only furrow his brow and say, "Luna, can’t you show a little restraint?"

But restraint, it seemed, was a luxury he only demanded of her.

Thalia’s wolf stirred within her, a low growl of frustration and hurt. She silenced it, burying the emotions deep. She was no longer the naive Luna who would beg for scraps of his affection.

The pack dynamics were clear: an Alpha’s infidelity was not uncommon, but it was rarely this blatant. Thalia had heard the whispers, seen the sidelong glances during pack gatherings. Emmie Anderson, the young Delta, was becoming a constant presence in Waylon’s life. Her resemblance to Stormi Shaw, Waylon’s late mate, was no coincidence.

But Thalia was done playing the dutiful Luna.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her chin lifting slightly. The mate bond between them was fraying, its once-strong pull now a faint, almost imperceptible tug. She had made her decision.

When the time came, she would sever it—properly, formally, and without hesitation.

For now, though, she would bide her time. The Silver Moon Pack needed stability, and she wouldn’t let her personal turmoil disrupt it.

But Waylon Daniels, Alpha or not, would soon learn that she was no longer the woman who would wait for him to come home.