Chapter 2 · Rejected Me as a Poor Rogue? The Alpha King Wants Me as His Queen

The mind-link cracks open the second they let me breathe. Kaine.

I answer before I can stop myself.

His voice pushes into my head. Cold. Flat. A stranger wearing my mate's scent.

"Wren. The whole poor-rogue thing? It's over. You lasted to the end. You just didn't pass."

"Pass?"

"Yeah. Pass." He laughs, short and sharp. "I had to prove to the council I could rise from nothing. That I could find a she-wolf loyal enough to starve beside me. Celeste funded the whole trial. She's my true mate. You were just the stand-in. A random pick to play Luna."

My chest tightens. "So the exile. The pack we owed our whole lives to pay off. None of it was real?"

"It was my land the whole time, just wearing a poor man's coat. I had to make it ugly enough to watch how you'd crack."

My claws bite into my palm. "You're rot, Kaine. Rot in an Alpha's skin."

"Maybe." He doesn't even flinch. "But this rot just inherited the Frostmark. There's a purse of gold on the table. Take it. Sign the scroll. Walk out. Don't embarrass yourself."

Then he goes for the throat.

"Oh, and Rowan? He's mine and Celeste's. Born before the trial ever started. You were good to him, I'll give you that much. But his real mother's home now. Say your goodbyes and get out. The den belongs to the Ashfords."

The words hit like ice water down my spine.

"Celeste and the elders are already there. And Wren?" His voice drops. "Don't make a scene. Keep it together."

Then, flat and bored, like he's reading off a hunting list, he says the words that end it.

"I, Kaine Ashford, Alpha of the Frostmark, reject you, Wren, as my mate, my Luna, and my wolf."

He snaps the link shut.

And the bond goes with it.

His mark tears clean off my neck, root and all, and for one white-hot second I can't breathe around the hole it leaves behind.

My wolf throws back her head and howls somewhere no one else can hear.

Five years of my life, ripped out through the skin.

I stand there with his voice still crawling around inside my skull.

A hired nanny. That's all I ever was to them.

Celeste is already crossing to the pup's corner, kneeling, arms open. "Rowan, baby. Mama's home."

The boy I've raised for five years looks between us, small and lost, the way children do when every adult in the room has gone strange at once.

Then Celeste holds out a shiny carved toy and a strip of sweet cured meat, and he goes to her.

Because he is five. Because she is the bright new thing. Because he does not understand a single piece of what is happening in this room.

He doesn't have to. That's the one mercy of being that small.

Celeste smooths his hair and looks at me over the top of his head. Her voice goes sweet, and cruel.

"It really is for the best. A pup shouldn't be raised on weak blood. All that fear. All that counting coppers by candlelight." She wrinkles her nose. "It rubs off."

Weak blood.

They've been saying it all night.

I stare at the woman, and at the child I once let myself believe was mine, and something in me that has been folded small for five years quietly begins to unfold.

And then I start to laugh.

Chapter 2

The mind-link cracks open the second they let me breathe. Kaine.

I answer before I can stop myself.

His voice pushes into my head. Cold. Flat. A stranger wearing my mate's scent.

"Wren. The whole poor-rogue thing? It's over. You lasted to the end. You just didn't pass."

"Pass?"

My chest tightens. "So the exile. The pack we owed our whole lives to pay off. None of it was real?"

"It was my land the whole time, just wearing a poor man's coat. I had to make it ugly enough to watch how you'd crack."

My claws bite into my palm. "You're rot, Kaine. Rot in an Alpha's skin."

"Maybe." He doesn't even flinch. "But this rot just inherited the Frostmark. There's a purse of gold on the table. Take it. Sign the scroll. Walk out. Don't embarrass yourself."

Then he goes for the throat.

The words hit like ice water down my spine.

"Celeste and the elders are already there. And Wren?" His voice drops. "Don't make a scene. Keep it together."

Then, flat and bored, like he's reading off a hunting list, he says the words that end it.

"I, Kaine Ashford, Alpha of the Frostmark, reject you, Wren, as my mate, my Luna, and my wolf."

He snaps the link shut.

And the bond goes with it.

His mark tears clean off my neck, root and all, and for one white-hot second I can't breathe around the hole it leaves behind.

My wolf throws back her head and howls somewhere no one else can hear.

Five years of my life, ripped out through the skin.

I stand there with his voice still crawling around inside my skull.

A hired nanny. That's all I ever was to them.

Celeste is already crossing to the pup's corner, kneeling, arms open. "Rowan, baby. Mama's home."

The boy I've raised for five years looks between us, small and lost, the way children do when every adult in the room has gone strange at once.

Then Celeste holds out a shiny carved toy and a strip of sweet cured meat, and he goes to her.

Because he is five. Because she is the bright new thing. Because he does not understand a single piece of what is happening in this room.

He doesn't have to. That's the one mercy of being that small.

Celeste smooths his hair and looks at me over the top of his head. Her voice goes sweet, and cruel.

"It really is for the best. A pup shouldn't be raised on weak blood. All that fear. All that counting coppers by candlelight." She wrinkles her nose. "It rubs off."

Weak blood.

They've been saying it all night.

I stare at the woman, and at the child I once let myself believe was mine, and something in me that has been folded small for five years quietly begins to unfold.

And then I start to laugh.