Married To The Alpha Who Rejected Me

NYX.

“I’ll be back very soon, baby,” Dad said, pressing a warm kiss to my forehead. His scent wrapped around me the way it always did when he was about to leave.

I leaned into the touch longer than I should have because the house felt different every time he walked out the door now.

“Do you really have to go?” I asked, softly, almost whispering, the way I used to when I was little and he packed for council meetings. My lower lip trembled just a little. “You’ve been gone three times this month already. Can’t the council wait another week?”

“I’ve explained how important this is, Nyx,” he said, his hand lingering on the side of my face, thumb brushing once under my eye. “The borders are restless again, rogue activity is up. If I don’t show my face, the other packs start whispering about weakness. I can’t afford that right now, not with everything else going on.”

“I don’t want to have to stay alone with… you know,” I murmured, glancing toward the hallway that led to the rest of the house. My wolf stirred restlessly under my skin at the mere thought, but even she felt quieter than usual, curled close instead of bristling.

I didn’t need to say the names. His new wife and the two stepbrothers who had moved into the Veyra estate three months ago.

My wolf still shrank a little every time one of them walked into a room, ears folding back, a low warning whimper vibrating in my chest that only I could hear. Something about their scents never sat right.

“I’ve called your uncle,” Dad said, already reaching for the leather bag by the door. “He’ll come pick you up and keep you at his mansion until I’m back.”

“Which of them?” I asked, even though part of me already knew the answer and my pulse had started racing the second the word “uncle” left his mouth.

“Uncle Roy,” he answered.

My heart fluttered against my ribs so hard I was sure he must have heard it. The gentlest of them all. The one whose voice I had played on loop in my head while lying awake more nights than I would ever admit out loud. Thirty-six years old, Alpha of the Stark Pack, six-foot-four and the kind of presence that made my whole body feel small and warm.

The man my father trusted more than anyone alive. The man my wolf had been quietly claiming as hers for years even though I had never been brave enough to say it. Every time he visited, every time he ruffled my hair like I was still twelve, every time he looked at me with that careful distance in his eyes, she pressed closer against my control, soft and aching .

“You can go now, Dad,” I said, forcing a small, fragile smile. “You’ve put me in good hands.”

He smiled back, proud and a little tired. “Roy’s the best there is. You’ll be fine.”

“If only those hands could hold me the way I dream about,” I thought, the words slipping out under my breath so low they barely left my tongue. My wolf made a soft, needy sound in agreement.

“What was that?” Dad asked, frowning slightly as he straightened and adjusted the strap of his bag.

“Nothing. Nothing, Dad,” I said quickly, waving a hand and trying to look innocent. “Just… telling myself not to mess up the house while you’re gone. Bye, safe travels. Text me when you land.”

“Be good for Roy,” he said, already opening the door. “He’s doing me a real favor taking you in on short notice. Don’t give him trouble.”

“I won’t give him trouble,” I promised, even as my wolf curled tighter under my skin at the thought of being under Roy’s roof. “I’ll be whatever he wants.”

“I know you will,” Dad said, and then the door closed.

I turned around slowly and felt the warm heat already gathering between my thighs.

Oh.

I was already wet.

All I had done was picture Roy—his dark eyes, the way his jaw flexed, the low, steady rumble of his voice when he said my name—and my body answered like it had been waiting for permission.

My wolf paced under my skin, restless, hungry, making soft needy sounds that only I could hear.

She had been getting worse for weeks, pushing closer to the surface every time Roy’s name came up, every time his scent lingered in a room after he visited.

There was no one else home, just me and the quiet.

I curled onto the wide armchair in the living room and pulled my laptop onto my lap. My hands were already trembling as I settled the headset over my ears. My fingers typed without thinking, the words appearing faster than I could second-guess them.

Older man fucking younger girl.

The soft moans hit immediately, flooding my ears. A man in his forties, moving slowly, carefully, into a girl who looked close enough to my age that my breath caught hard in my throat.

The sounds, the way she gasped his name, the way his hands held her open with such care—it was too easy to replace his face with Roy’s. My nipples tightened against the thin fabric of my tank top until they ached.

I slipped my hand down the front of my shorts, past the waistband of my already damp panties, and found myself wet, warm and ready like my body had been preparing for this moment all afternoon.

“Roy…” I whispered, eyes half-lidded on the screen. “Just like that… please…”

I circled my clit with two fingers, then pushed them inside, slow at first, then a little deeper, curling them the way I imagined he would— gentle, thorough, never rushing .

The sound was soft even through the headset. I pictured Roy’s large hands braced carefully on either side of my head, the weight of him covering me completely, the way his wolf would rumble low and protective when he finally stopped treating me like his best friend’s child and started treating me like what my wolf already knew I was.

My free hand brushed one nipple lightly, then pinched just enough to make my breath hitch, the way I imagined he might if he ever let himself touch me. “It feels so good,” I murmured, hips rocking up to meet every careful thrust of my fingers. “Your hands would feel so much better than this. I’ve wanted them for years. You know that, don’t you? You’ve always known. The way you look at me sometimes when you think I’m not watching.”

The moans on the screen grew softer, more breathless. My hand moved a little faster. I could almost smell Roy.

My wolf pushed closer to the surface, tongue lolling, begging for the real thing, for the bite, for the claim she had been waiting on since the first time she scented him properly at sixteen and realized no other male would ever measure up.

“Please,” I whispered to the empty room, to the fantasy, to the man who had no idea what he did to me every time he walked through the door. “Please just take me. Stop treating me like I’m still a child. Just… just give in for once.”

My fingers curled harder, finding that spot that made my thighs tremble and my breath stutter. The laptop screen blurred. The girl’s soft cries mixed with the ones slipping out of my own mouth, higher and more delicate.

I was so close, so helplessly close, chasing the edge with Roy’s name on my tongue.

“Oh—” I breathed, head tipping back against the chair, eyes half-closed, body tightening around my own fingers.

“Oh,” the familiar voice said from the doorway.

My gaze shifted to the door.

It was wide open.

Roy was standing there, eyes wide , at the sight.