Rejected Luna: Royal blood

They say your first shift is supposed to be magical, a moment when you finally connect with the wolf inside you.

I still remember the sting of his words, the way Alpha Marcus looked at me like I was nothing. “I, Alpha Marcus, reject you, Emily Ravens, as my mate.”

His voice was cold, detached, as if he were simply brushing off a speck of dirt from his shoulder. The rest of the pack watched, their eyes filled with a mix of pity and disgust. How could I, an orphan with no family, no name to honor, even think I was worthy of an alpha? The air around us felt thick, suffocating, as though it was pressing down on me, urging me to crumble under the weight of his rejection.

But I refused to break. Not in front of them. Not in front of him.

“I understand,” I replied, my voice steady, even as a storm of emotions raged inside me. Anger, humiliation, sadness—they swirled together, forming a knot in my chest that threatened to choke me. But I swallowed it down, every bitter drop, and forced myself to meet his gaze. His eyes, so cold and unforgiving, didn’t even flicker with regret or hesitation. I was nothing to him. Less than nothing.

The pack was silent, their whispers from moments ago dying away as they waited for me to react, to fall apart. But I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. My legs felt like they were made of lead, but I managed to turn away from Marcus, keeping my head high as I walked through the crowd. I could feel their stares burning into my back, each one a knife in my already bleeding heart.

As I left the clearing, the forest seemed to close in around me, the trees like silent sentinels bearing witness to my shame. The moonlight barely filtered through the thick canopy, casting everything in shadow. I stumbled over roots and rocks, but I kept going, needing to get away, to find somewhere I could breath.

The pain of rejection wasn’t just emotional—it was physical, a searing ache that spread through every nerve in my body. My wolf, who had been so eager to bond with her mate, was now retreating into the deepest corners of my mind, wounded and silent. I could feel her sadness, her confusion. Why hadn’t she emerged when I turned 18, like everyone else’s wolf? Why was I still incomplete, still trapped in this limbo between human and wolf, even at 19?

Most in the pack shifted by 18. Some even earlier, at 16 or 17, their wolves strong and vibrant, a source of pride. But not me. Every day that passed without my first shift was another reminder that I was different, that I didn’t belong. And the pack didn’t let me forget it. They whispered behind my back, laughed when they thought I couldn’t hear, and looked at me with thinly veiled pity or disdain. To them, I was a failure, a freak, an orphan without a wolf.

It was that failure, that perceived weakness, that had driven Marcus to reject me. I wasn’t just a poor match for an alpha, I was an embarrassment. He needed a strong mate, someone who could stand by his side and command respect. Someone who could shift, lead, and fight. And I wasn’t that someone.

The thought of it sent a fresh wave of humiliation washing over me, and I had to force myself to keep walking, to push past the memories of the pack’s judging eyes and Marcus’s cold voice. The forest was thick around me, the darkness broken only by slivers of moonlight that filtered through the trees, but I didn’t care where I was going. I just needed to move, to escape the crushing weight of my own inadequacy.

Every step I took was a reminder of what I wasn’t, what I couldn’t be. My feet crunched on the dry leaves scattered across the forest floor, the only sound in the otherwise silent night. My legs felt heavy, like they didn’t belong to me anymore, like they were just another part of my body that had failed me. But I kept moving, because stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant facing the truth: I was alone.

I had always been alone, really. The pack had taken me in out of obligation, not out of love. An orphan with no family, no history, and now, no wolf I was the charity case they tolerated but never truly accepted. And now, without Marcus, without even the faintest hope of belonging, I had nothing.

My chest tightened as the reality of my situation sank in. Where would I go? What would I do? The pack was my home, my only home, and now I was cut off from it, a stranger in the one place I should have belonged. Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I blinked them back, determined not to cry anymore. Crying wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring back the life I had lost, the future I had imagined.

But then, deep in the forest, I came to a stop, my breath hitching as a new thought entered my mind, what if this was all because of my wolf? What if she was broken? Maybe that’s why she hadn’t come forward, why she hadn’t shown herself on my 18th birthday like she was supposed to. What if she was as weak and useless as everyone believed me to be?

My heart pounded in my chest, the fear taking root, growing until it was all I could think about. I had always told myself that when my wolf finally emerged, everything would be okay. That once I could shift, I’d prove them all wrong. But what if I never shifted? What if this was it? this half-life, this constant feeling of being less, of not being enough?

I sank to the ground, my legs giving out as the weight of everything pressed down on me. The forest was so quiet around me, the only sound my ragged breathing. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold on to something, anything, to keep from falling apart completely. But it was no use. The rejection, the loneliness, the fear it all crashed down on me, and I couldn’t stop the tears this time.

They came in a flood, hot and fast, streaking down my face as I sobbed into the darkness. I didn’t care who heard me, didn’t care if the whole pack was out there listening. For the first time in my life, I let myself feel it all, the pain, the anger, the sorrow. It ripped through me, raw and unfiltered, leaving me trembling and exhausted.

And when the tears finally slowed, when the sobs became hiccups, I was left with an emptiness that scared me even more than the pain had. What was I supposed to do now? I had no answers, no plan, no hope. Just a broken wolf inside me, and a broken heart to match.

But even as I sat there, surrounded by darkness and despair, a small part of me refused to give in completely. It whispered that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end. Maybe my wolf was waiting for something, waiting for me to be ready, waiting for the right moment.

And so, with a shaky breath, I wiped the tears from my face and pushed myself back to my feet. I wasn’t ready to give up, not yet.