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REJECTED BY THE ALPHA, CLAIMED BY HIS ENEMY

REJECTED BY THE ALPHA, CLAIMED BY HIS ENEMY

Werewolf
last updateTerakhir Diperbarui : 2026-06-21
Oleh:  Tizi ArtTamat
Bahasa: English
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Sinopsis

Werewolf

Drama

Girl Power

Alpha

Luna

Hidden Identity

Reject

Regret

Superpower

On the night she was meant to become Luna, Althea was publicly rejected by her fated mate. Cast aside by Alpha Lucien and exiled from the only pack she had ever known, she was left broken, humiliated, and marked as unwanted. But rejection did not destroy her. It awakened her. Taken in by the rival Nightfall Pack, Althea begins rebuilding herself in silence—training harder, growing stronger, refusing to let betrayal define her. Yet strange things begin to happen. Ancient wards react to her presence. A forgotten moonstone pulses beneath the keep. And when she sleeps, she hears whispers… thoughts that do not belong to her. Althea can read minds. What she doesn’t know is that her bloodline was erased centuries ago—wiped from history after a royal betrayal that shattered the balance of the werewolf world. The Moon Goddess has not forgotten. And now, the scales are shifting. As her hidden power awakens, so does something else. The broken mate bond she thought was dead begins to stir. Lucien feels it. Across territories and pride, he senses her transformation—and regret begins to consume him. The girl he cast aside is no longer weak. She is becoming dangerous. But Althea is no one’s pawn. Not fate’s. Not the Goddess’s. And certainly not the Alpha who rejected her. With rival packs watching, ancient secrets resurfacing, and two powerful Alphas drawn to her rising strength, Althea must decide who she will become: The rejected Luna… Or the royal wolf the world tried to erase.

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Bab 1

The Rejection

The moon was at its fullest when my mate rejected me.

Silver light flooded the ceremonial grounds, bathing the pack in reverent silence. Wolves stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes glowing with anticipation, whispers rippling through the crowd like sparks before a fire.

Tonight was supposed to be my destiny.

I stood at the center of the circle, hands trembling beneath the delicate lace of my white ceremonial dress. The fabric clung to my skin, heavy with meaning. Luna-to-be. Alpha’s mate. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself.

I lifted my eyes to him.

Alpha Lucien Blackwood.

Tall. Imposing. Untouchable.

The man fate had bound to me stood across the sacred fire, dressed in ceremonial black, his expression carved from stone. His sharp jaw was tight, his golden eyes unreadable. Not warmth. Not recognition. Not relief.

Fear curled in my stomach.

The elder stepped forward, his voice echoing through the clearing.

“Alpha Lucien Blackwood, do you accept the mate the Moon Goddess has chosen for you?”

The world seemed to pause.

This was the moment I had dreamed of since the bond awakened. Since the pull in my chest had nearly brought me to my knees. Since every instinct in me screamed him.

Lucien didn’t answer immediately.

A murmur swept through the pack.

My heart began to race.

Slowly, he turned his head—away from me—and his gaze landed on the elders.

“I do not.”

The words struck like a physical blow.

The air left my lungs.

Silence shattered the night.

Gasps erupted. Whispers turned sharp. Shock rippled through the bond, burning like ice beneath my skin.

“I, Alpha Lucien Blackwood,” he continued coldly, his voice carrying without effort, “reject Althea Vale as my mate.”

My knees buckled.

Pain exploded in my chest—raw, brutal, soul-deep. I clutched at my heart as the bond snapped violently, a scream tearing from my throat before I could stop it.

Rejected.

Publicly.

Humiliated before the entire pack.

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to fall. I would not give them that satisfaction. I forced myself to look at him, desperate for something—anything—to soften the cruelty of his words.

“Why?” My voice came out broken.

Lucien finally faced me.

There was no regret in his eyes.

“I need a Luna who strengthens my rule,” he said evenly. “Not a weakness.”

Laughter rippled from somewhere in the crowd.

Each sound carved deeper than claws.

“I have obligations,” he continued. “Political alliances. A fragile pack. I will not endanger everything for a bond I never asked for.”

Never asked for.

As if I hadn’t felt it too. As if I hadn’t suffered it too.

The elder stepped forward again, alarm etched into his features. “Alpha, the Moon—”

“I’ve made my decision,” Lucien cut in sharply. “This ceremony is over.”

Just like that.

My fate was dismissed.

The bond continued to burn, punishment for a rejection I had no power to stop. I tasted blood where I bit my lip to keep from crying out again.

I straightened.

If he thought rejection would break me completely, he was wrong.

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze one last time.

“Then hear me, Alpha Blackwood,” I said, my voice shaking but loud enough for all to hear. “From this moment on, I release you from any claim over me. I will never beg you again.”

His eyes flickered—just once.

Surprise?

Anger?

Too late.

I turned away from him, away from the pack that had watched me be destroyed, and walked out of the sacred circle with my dignity bleeding behind me.

The Moon Goddess had bound me to an Alpha who chose power over fate.

Fine.

I would choose myself.

And one day… he would regret this.

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135 Bab
The Rejection
The moon was at its fullest when my mate rejected me. Silver light flooded the ceremonial grounds, bathing the pack in reverent silence. Wolves stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes glowing with anticipation, whispers rippling through the crowd like sparks before a fire. Tonight was supposed to be my destiny. I stood at the center of the circle, hands trembling beneath the delicate lace of my white ceremonial dress. The fabric clung to my skin, heavy with meaning. Luna-to-be. Alpha’s mate. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. I lifted my eyes to him. Alpha Lucien Blackwood. Tall. Imposing. Untouchable. The man fate had bound to me stood across the sacred fire, dressed in ceremonial black, his expression carved from stone. His sharp jaw was tight, his golden eyes unreadable. Not warmth. Not recognition. Not relief. Fear curled in my stomach. The elder stepped forward, his voice echoing through the clearing. “Alpha Lucien Blackwood, do you accept the mate the Moon Goddess has
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Cast Out
I didn’t make it far before my legs gave out. The moment I crossed the boundary of the ceremonial grounds, the pain I’d been holding back tore through me. I collapsed to my knees in the dirt, fingers clawing at the ground as another wave of agony ripped through my chest. The broken bond burned like acid in my veins. I had been rejected—but not released. My wolf whimpered inside me, curled tight and silent, as if she too was bleeding. “Get up.” The voice was sharp. Cold. I looked up through blurred vision to see Beta Marcus standing a few feet away, arms crossed, his expression stiff with discomfort rather than sympathy. “The Alpha wants you gone before sunrise,” he said. “You’re not to return to the pack house.” I let out a shaky laugh that tasted like blood. “Of course not.” Marcus shifted his weight. “An escort will take you to the outer border.” Escort. As if I were a criminal. As if I had done something wrong by existing. I forced myself to stand, swaying slightly. N
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Three Years Later
Pain had a way of sharpening memory. Even now—three years later—I could still remember the moment my body gave out beyond the pack border. The way the trees blurred into streaks of shadow. The way my wolf’s cries grew faint inside me. The way the ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet. And then— Nothing. I didn’t remember hitting the earth. I remembered waking up. “Again.” The word cracked through the training grounds like a whip. I rolled to my feet before the command fully left his mouth, ignoring the fire racing up my thighs and the ache settling deep into my bones. Sweat drenched my shirt, clinging to my spine. My lungs burned as I lifted my blade just in time to block the strike aimed at my ribs. Steel clashed against steel. The impact rattled down my arms. Sparks flickered between us. “Too slow,” Ronan said calmly, circling me with predatory precision. “If that had been an enemy, you’d be dead.” His voice wasn’t cruel. It was factual. I tightened my grip, jaw hard.
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When the World Went Dark
I still remembered the cold before I remembered the pain. Not the clean chill of night air—but the kind that seeped into bone, heavy and suffocating, dragging me down until even breathing felt like work. I had been walking for hours after crossing the border. Maybe days. Time had blurred into a haze of hunger, thirst, and the relentless ache in my chest where the bond had been torn but not severed. Every step felt borrowed. I remember stumbling near a stream, my reflection warped in the dark water. Pale. Hollow-eyed. A stranger wearing the ruin of a ceremonial dress. I remember thinking, So this is how it ends. My knees gave out shortly after. I hit the ground hard, breath knocked from my lungs, fingers digging weakly into damp earth. My wolf stirred faintly—too exhausted to shift, too wounded to protect me. Get up, I told myself. I didn’t. The pain surged again, sharper than before, ripping through me like punishment for daring to survive Lucien’s rejection. I cried out, th
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The Alpha of Nightfall
The door closed behind the healer, leaving the room unnervingly quiet. I sat up slowly, ignoring the protest from my body. The blankets slipped to my waist, and cold air brushed my skin just as the presence in the room sharpened. He didn’t announce himself. He didn’t need to. The man standing near the hearth was tall—taller than Lucien—and built like someone who knew exactly how to end a fight without wasting movement. Dark hair brushed his collar, his expression calm in a way that felt deliberate. Dangerous. His silver-gray eyes met mine. Alpha. Every instinct in me reacted at once. My wolf stirred, not in fear—but awareness. Not submission either. Something else. Something cautious and alert. He studied me like a puzzle he hadn’t decided to solve yet. “You crossed my border alone,” he said finally. His voice was low, steady. Command without force. “Why?” I swallowed. “I was exiled.” A pause. “Exiled,” he repeated, as if tasting the word. “I was rejected,” I added quietl
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Blood and Resolve
Pain was no longer unfamiliar to me. It had become a constant companion—sharp in the mornings, dull and aching by nightfall, living beneath my skin like a reminder of everything I had lost and everything I still had to earn. The Nightfall training grounds were carved into the mountainside, stone worn smooth by years of combat and discipline. The air smelled of iron and pine, sweat and old blood. Wolves moved with purpose around me—some shifting in and out of human form, others sparring with weapons or fists, their movements precise and lethal. I stood at the center of it all, gripping a wooden staff with hands that were still healing. “You’re late.” Ronan’s voice cut cleanly through the noise. I turned to face him, shoulders squared despite the tension curling in my stomach. He stood several paces away, arms crossed, his expression unreadable as ever. He wore simple black training gear, the kind that didn’t restrict movement. There was no crown. No display of rank. He didn’t ne
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The Challenge
Nightfall did not believe in spectators. If you trained in their territory, you did so under watchful eyes—warriors sharpening blades, wolves testing dominance, sentinels measuring worth with nothing more than a glance. Strength here was currency. Weakness was noticed just as quickly. By the third week, I felt every stare. I moved through the training grounds at dawn, muscles stiff from the previous day’s drills, my palms still bearing faint blisters that refused to heal completely. Ronan had been relentless. Combat training in the mornings. Endurance runs at dusk. Sparring whenever he deemed me too comfortable. No mercy. No praise. Exactly what I needed. I was adjusting the bindings on my staff when I felt it—the shift in the air. Wolves quieted. Conversations trailed off. A ripple of attention rolled across the grounds like a warning. I straightened. Across the stone circle stood Kade, one of Nightfall’s senior warriors. Broad-shouldered, scarred, his presence alone radiated
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The Weight of Power
The inner guard did not train at dawn. They trained before it. The sky was still ink-dark when I arrived at the lower training field, breath fogging in the cold air. Torches burned low along the stone walls, casting long shadows that shifted with every movement. This place felt different from the open grounds—older, heavier. Like it remembered blood. Five warriors waited inside the ring. Each of them radiated authority. Elite. I tightened the straps on my gloves and stepped forward anyway. “You’re late,” one of them said flatly. “No,” another replied, eyes narrowing. “She’s early. Just not early enough.” A ripple of restrained amusement passed through them. I said nothing. Ronan stood at the edge of the ring, hands clasped behind his back. He hadn’t spoken a word since I arrived. He didn’t need to. His presence alone kept the tension sharp. “Rules,” he said finally. One word. Calm. Absolute. “No killing,” one of the elites added. “Everything else is fair.” My pulse spike
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The Stone That Remembered
Sleep did not come gently. It dragged me under. Training had left my muscles trembling, my lungs raw, my pride bruised but unbroken. I collapsed onto the narrow bed in my chamber at Nightfall Keep and welcomed the dark. And then the dark shifted. Not visually. Energetically. A hum pulsed beneath my skin — faint, rhythmic, unfamiliar. I frowned in my sleep. Somewhere in the keep, something ancient stirred. The air felt heavier. Charged. And then— The ward reacted. The voice was not spoken aloud. It brushed against my mind like wind through tall grass. Impossible… it hasn’t responded in centuries. My breath stuttered. The thought wasn’t mine. It was male. Older. Controlled. And it was close. I drifted toward it instinctively. Check the temple stone again. Temple stone? The hum intensified — not painful, but sharp enough to fracture my sleep. I gasped and sat upright in bed. Silence. The fire had burned low. The corridor outside was quiet. But my heart raced as
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Secrets Buried in Stone
The Nightfall archives were older than any building in the keep. Rows of carved shelves stretched into shadowed corners, the air heavy with the scent of aged parchment, dust, and something faintly metallic—like moonlight trapped in stone. Candles flickered along the walls, casting uneven light over texts bound in weathered leather. The High Elder moved with deliberate care, his fingers tracing the grooves of carvings as though they remembered secrets better than any mind could. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice low but firm. I didn’t flinch. “I want to understand,” I said quietly, “what I am… and why the stone reacted.” Ronan had let me enter, silent as ever. His gaze swept the room like a sentinel. I could feel the weight of his eyes on me, but it wasn’t threatening—it was alert. Protective. Wary. The High Elder paused, then nodded once. “Perhaps you should know. But you must understand: the truth is dangerous.” I swallowed. “I’m not afraid.” He sighed, finally. “Few e
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