Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

I stared at the financial records spread across my kitchen table, my fingers trembling as I traced the columns of numbers. Three years. Three years since I'd forgiven Oliver for his affair with that rogue she-wolf, Summer Wilson. Three years of rebuilding our mate bond, of raising our daughter Hope, of believing we'd moved past his betrayal.

And now this.

"Large withdrawals," I whispered, circling the figures with my pen. "Every month for... two years."

The amounts were substantial—more than what we spent on pack supplies. More than what we allocated for Hope's education. The destination was always listed as "security expenses," but the pattern was too regular, too consistent.

My wolf stirred uneasily within me. *Something's wrong, Sunny.*

I gathered the papers quickly, tucking them into a folder before heading toward Oliver's office. The pack house was quiet this afternoon, most wolves out on patrol or handling territory duties. My footsteps echoed against the hardwood floors as I approached his door.

"Oliver?" I knocked gently before pushing it open.

He looked up from his desk, his expression shifting from irritation to neutrality when he saw me. "Sunny, what is it? I'm busy."

I placed the folder on his desk, opening it to the page I'd marked. "I need an explanation."

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the documents. I watched his face carefully, looking for any sign of remorse or guilt, but his Alpha mask slipped into place quickly.

"These are pack financial records," he said, his voice hardening. "What are you doing with them?"

"I'm the Luna," I reminded him, straightening my spine. "Pack finances are my responsibility too."

Oliver stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. The sudden movement made me step back instinctively.

"You're overstepping, Sunny." His voice dropped into that commanding Alpha tone that made my wolf cower. "These are sensitive pack security matters."

"Security matters?" I challenged, fighting against the instinct to submit. "Is that what you call sending money to rogue networks?"

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Enough!"

The Alpha command hit me like a physical blow, stealing my breath and forcing me to lower my gaze.

"This discussion is over," he continued, his voice cold and final. "You will not question me about pack matters again."

---

The autumn harvest celebration filled our pack grounds with laughter and music. Wolves danced around the bonfire while others shared stories and food. I moved through the crowd with practiced smiles, playing my role as Luna while my mind remained haunted by Oliver's warning.

*Something's wrong,* my wolf insisted. *We should run.*

But where would I run? This was my pack, my home, my life.

I excused myself from a conversation about pack renovations and slipped behind the main house for some air. The noise of the celebration faded slightly as I leaned against the cool stone wall.

Then I heard it—Oliver's voice, low and intimate.

"Hope's developing well," he was saying. "Her wolf is strong. Perfect for what we need."

I froze, pressing myself against the shadows as I peered around the corner. Oliver stood just beyond the tree line, his back to me. I couldn't see who he was talking to, but I recognized the tone—the one he used when speaking to Summer.

"The timing has to be right," a female voice replied—her voice. "We can't risk complications."

"I know," Oliver agreed. "But Macie's condition might require action sooner than later."

My heart stopped. Macie—the daughter I'd been raising for three years. The child I'd nursed and sung to sleep, whose nightmares I'd soothed and whose first steps I'd witnessed.

"What about Sunny?" Summer asked. "She's getting suspicious."

"She won't find out," Oliver said dismissively. "And if she does, I'll handle it."

Their voices faded as they moved deeper into the trees. I remained frozen, my mind racing to process what I'd heard.

Hope. My Hope. They were talking about using her—my daughter—as some kind of organ donor for Summer's child.

---

The pack medical wing was deserted at this hour. I slipped in quietly, using my Luna access card to enter Dr. Sarah Mitchell's laboratory.

"Sunny?" Sarah looked up from her microscope, surprise evident on her face. "What brings you here so late?"

I placed a small vial on her desk—a hair sample I'd taken from Macie's brush.

"I need a blood scent analysis," I said quietly. "Comparative genetics."

Sarah's eyebrows rose slightly, but she nodded. "Whose sample are we comparing it to?"

"Mine," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "And... Summer Wilson's, if you have her records."

The machine hummed as it processed the samples. I paced nervously, my stomach twisted in knots.

Finally, Sarah turned to me with a solemn expression. "The results are in."

She handed me a report with highlighted sections. My eyes caught the key phrases immediately:

"Genetic markers consistent with rogue wolf lineage..."

"Maternal scent profile matches Summer Wilson (95% probability)"

"Paternal markers indicate Alpha Oliver Clark"

The room spun around me as the truth crystallized with devastating clarity.

Macie wasn't my daughter.

And somewhere out there, my real daughter Hope was living with the woman who had stolen everything from me.