Lahat ng Kabanata ng Rejected by the Prince, Claimed by the Alpha: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 8

The first thing Elara learned each morning was how to exist without being noticed.Not invisible, people still saw her when they needed something done, but forgettable. Easy to overlook. Easier to dismiss.She moved through the lower level of the pack house with practiced precision, head down, steps quiet but not suspiciously so. The industrial kitchen was already loud, metal trays clattering, voices overlapping, the low hum of refrigeration units filling the gaps between conversation.No one looked at her when she entered.That was good.Elara crossed to the prep counter and began stacking the dented metal trays left from the night before. Some still had colored tags clipped to their edges, gold, silver, white.None of them was hers.“Careful, omega.”The word cut cleanly through the noise.Elara didn’t flinch. She’d learned not to.“Yes.”Mara stood across the counter, leaning back against the polished steel as if she belonged there, which she did. Her uniform was crisp, black fabri

Elara shouldn’t have stayed.The thought lingered at the back of her mind, quiet but persistent, as the trials continued.She should have left when the crowd thickened, when Mara lost interest, when her sister disappeared into the next round of candidates.Instead, she remained where she was, just outside the marked boundary, half-shadowed by the outer wall.Watching.Waiting.For something she couldn’t name.The matches resumed, sharper now. Fewer candidates. Stronger opponents. Every movement carried more weight, more consequence.Elara tried to focus on the fights.Tried to follow the rhythm—step, strike, counter, recover.But her attention kept drifting.Back to the platform.Back to him.He hadn’t moved.Not once.While others shifted, spoke, observed, he remained still—arms at his sides, posture relaxed in a way that didn’t match the tension around him.Like, none of this mattered.Like he had already seen the outcome.Elara swallowed, forcing her gaze back to the field.A name

The pack house woke earlier than usual.Elara noticed it before she even opened her eyes.Movement.Voices.Doors opening and closing with purpose instead of routine.The Moon Goddess ceremony.Even the air felt different.She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, the thin blanket twisted loosely around her legs. The cold had settled in overnight, clinging to her skin, sinking deeper into her bones.Her body ached.It always did.But today, it felt sharper.More present.Like something was building beneath it.Elara pushed herself upright slowly, pausing as the room tilted for a brief second before steadying.Outside her door, footsteps passed quickly, lighter, faster, purposeful.Excited.She stood, pulling on her usual grey uniform. The fabric hung slightly loose on her frame, worn softer with time. No crest. No markings.Nothing that mattered.By the time she reached the lower level, the kitchen was already full.Not chaotic.Organized.Efficient.Every surface was in use

The silence didn’t last long before it shifted.Not breaking, but changing.The kind of quiet that waited for something to begin.The priest stood at the center of the raised platform, his presence steady, practiced. He didn’t rush; he didn’t need to. The room was already his.“Elara.”Her name echoed faintly in her own mind.Not spoken, not yet.Just… there.She pushed the thought away. This wasn’t about her. It never was.“Tonight,” the priest said, his voice carrying easily through the hall, “we stand beneath the gaze of the Moon Goddess.”The Moon Goddess did not choose lightly.What she gave was not meant to be undone, not without consequence.Everyone in the room understood that, even if no one spoke of it aloud.No one moved, no one spoke.Even everyone's breathing seemed quieter.“She sees what we do not,” he continued. “She binds what cannot be broken. She chooses what must be.”Elara’s fingers curled slightly at her sides.The words were familiar; she’d heard them before, fr