Chapter 5: Rejected.

Chapter 5: Rejected.

Becky’s POV

Mom's last words echoed in my head as she dragged me into the house smiling brightly as the pack members greeted her and some started at me with surprised, amused looks. 

I slightly shook my head, biting back the memories that I'd long buried and tucked behind my mind.

Mom practically dragged me through the double doors of the pack house, her fingers laced tightly with mine as she grinned and waved at every familiar face that passed by. I kept my head low, a small smile tugging at my lips as the memories threatened to spill over. It was surreal to be back. Every smell, every sound—it all wrapped around me like a worn blanket I didn’t realize I’d missed until I was home again.

“Oh hush now, I know that look,” Mom whispered, squeezing my hand. “You’re home, Pumpkin. That’s all that matters.”

Seriously, this woman can never change. I thought as my smile widened. 

The moment we stepped into the kitchen,on one side of the large table, was the overwhelming scent of roasted vegetables, garlic, and herbs hit me like a nostalgic punch in the gut. The other side was filled with tasty looking meals with cupcakes, cakes, biscuits and cookies. I had to blink fast to keep my eyes from stinging and my mouth from drooling at the same time.

“You’ve lost weight,” Mom said abruptly, releasing my hand to bustle toward the stove. “What have you been living on, crackers and sprite?”

Before I could respond, she began scooping food onto a plate with the intensity of someone preparing for war. A heaping pile of mashed potatoes, grilled chicken, green beans, and something that looked suspiciously like her famous mushroom pie.

“Sit,” she ordered.

“I’m fine—” I tried to argue.

“Sit, Becky.”

I sat.

“And you too, Jimmy. Don’t think you’re escaping the maternal wrath. You look like you’ve been living off iced coffee and sarcasm.”

Jimmy laughed, unbothered as always. “Guilty as charged. But you should see my pantry—it’s alphabetized and everything.”

Mom shoved a plate at him next. “Eat. And don’t be shy, son.”

He blinked, then grinned. “Son?”

“You think I don’t recognize the energy? You’re the best friend who doubles as the sassy shoulder angel, aren’t you?”

Jimmy gasped. “She sees me.”

“Eat.”

He obeyed with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t had a real home-cooked meal in months. Probably because he hadn’t. I watched the scene unfold with a strange flutter in my chest—part warmth, part dread.

“Sebastian and your father are finishing up,” Mom said, passing me a glass of lemonade. “They’ll want to talk to you in the garden.”

I nodded and took a sip, but her words kept echoing in my head: “...speaking with the Alpha King.”

I set the glass down carefully. My hands were trembling. No one noticed.

A few moments later, the kitchen door creaked open, and a tall figure stepped in.

“Look what the wolves dragged in,” Sebastian smirked.

He looked older—more mature, definitely buffer—but still had the same teasing sparkle in his eyes. I stood, barely managing to smile before he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground.

“You didn’t tell me you were this scrawny now. You used to have more muscle,” he teased.

“Put me down, or I swear to Luna I’ll knee you.”

“Ah, there’s the Becky I know.”

Dad stepped in behind him, slower, more reserved. His presence was grounding, like the deep roots of an ancient tree.

“Pumpkin,” he said, voice rougher than I remembered. “You look well.”

I rushed to him, wrapping my arms around his middle. He didn’t say much, but he hugged me tightly, and that said everything.

“Come,” he murmured into my hair. “The Alpha King would like to meet you.”

My heart stalled. My feet suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.

“He’s in the garden,” Sebastian added with a look I couldn’t decipher. “He asked for you personally.”

I glanced at Mom. She gave me a small nod of encouragement.

The walk to the garden was a blur. My pulse thundered in my ears, and my mind spun with a million half-formed thoughts. Why now? Why me? Had he already known? Was this just a formality?

We stepped through the back door and into the garden, where late afternoon sunlight spilled across the stone path like gold dust. The air was thick with floral scent—roses, lavender, and the faint aroma of the forest that bordered our land. And I still don't know what the party is about or who it's for.

And there, standing beneath the archway of ivy, was him.

The bastard who broke my heart and made me unable to fall in love. Haunter, the Alpha King.

His eyes met mine the moment I stepped into view. Silver gray, commanding—and ancient. He was taller than I last saw him, and a little more built like someone who didn’t need to speak to be obeyed, like he was being careful. His dark only hair was swept back. His expression was unreadable.

My breath caught in my throat. Something primal and electric passed between us.

Mine, a voice whispered through my bond.

Oh hell no, not this….not now.

Then he stepped forward, gaze never leaving mine. My father and Sebastian stayed behind, letting me face him alone.

He studied me like he was trying to memorize every inch of my soul.

“You are my mate,” he said, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “And I would like you to move in with me within a week.”

The air left my lungs. I swayed slightly, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or run.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his tone softer now. “I’ve waited for this moment. And now that I’ve found you, I will not let you slip away.”

Yeah, on second thoughts I should probably run or slap him across the face because I'm not in for this shit he's pulling now. 

The fuck is wrong with him? Why now, after rejecting me four years ago? Does he think this is a joke or I'm someone to be played with?

“No." I finally checked out.