Rejected by the Alpha, Chosen by the King

What the hell was I looking at?

The glowing screen of Kael Rourke’s laptop cast a pale blue light across my face. My fingers hovered over the trackpad, trembling. A DNA analysis report filled the display. Under the section comparing my genetics with Caleb’s, the result blazed in bold red letters: MATERNITY IS EXCLUDED.

My Mating Mark seared.

The scar on my neck burned like a fresh wound, pulsing with a sudden, vicious heat. I rubbed the raised flesh, but the pain only sharpened.

Ten years.

I had been married to Kael for ten years. I had raised Caleb since the day he was born. I rocked him to sleep during thunderstorms, tended to his fevers, and taught him how to shift into his first wolf form. I was the one who bandaged his scraped knees and cheered at his pack training sessions. And now, a single document was telling me I wasn't his mother.

"This is a mistake," I whispered. "It has to be."

The study door creaked open.

I slammed the laptop shut. The loud snap echoed off the mahogany bookshelves.

Kael stepped into the room. His gaze locked onto the closed computer instantly. The air in the study grew heavy. His Alpha aura flared, a suffocating wave of pressure that slammed directly into my chest. I fought the urge to step back, forcing my feet to stay planted on the rug.

"Are you going through my private files?" he asked. His voice was dangerously low.

I didn't cower. I reached out and flipped the lid back open. The bright screen illuminated the dark space between us.

"Explain this," I demanded. My voice shook, but I kept my chin high. "Explain why my son’s DNA doesn’t match mine."

He stared at the screen, his expression unreadable. His jaw tightened, a small muscle twitching near his ear.

"You shouldn't be on my computer, Elara," he stated flatly.

"Don't change the subject, Kael!" I yelled. "Look at the screen. Look at the red text. Maternity is excluded. How is that possible? I gave birth to him!"

"You're misreading it," he said, taking a step closer. His shadow fell over the desk, swallowing me in darkness.

"I know how to read a DNA test," I shot back. "I oversee the Silver Moon holdings. I read complex contracts every day. This isn't a typo. The report says maternity is excluded."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's a glitch in the clinic's system. I was going to call them tomorrow to get it sorted out."

"A glitch?" I let out a harsh, unexpected laugh. It sounded brittle even to my own ears. "You expect me to believe a top-tier pack medical facility just accidentally generated a report saying my child isn't mine?"

"Yes," he said, his tone turning to ice. "Because that's exactly what happened."

"Then explain the rest of it," I pushed forward, refusing to let him control the narrative. "Explain why every time you touch this computer, my Mark burns like a stranger bit me. Explain why the bond feels entirely severed when you look at me right now."

Kael lunged forward. His large hand slammed the laptop shut again, nearly catching my fingers. He towered over me, his chest heaving. The oppressive weight of his aura wavered. For one revealing second, the borrowed dominance he had cultivated slipped, exposing the insecurity beneath his Alpha facade. The scent of rain and pine sharpened with fear.

"You're invading my privacy, Elara," he snapped, leaning into my personal space.

"Privacy?" I shoved at his chest. He didn't budge. "We share a mating mark. We share a life. We have a son. Or at least, I thought we did."

"Is this what a ten-year Mate Bond means to you?" he countered. "Snooping around like a paranoid rogue? Tearing apart our family over a clerical error?"

"I'm not tearing anything apart. You're the one hiding reports in encrypted folders!" I pointed at the metal casing of the laptop. "If it was just a glitch, why was it locked away? Why didn't you tell me the second you saw it?"

"I was protecting you from unnecessary stress!" he yelled back. "You've been exhausted lately. The Pack Council has been fighting you over the consolidation of our territorial holdings. I didn't want you worrying over a stupid typo."

I stared into his eyes. They were cold, guarded. The man I had loved for a decade felt like a complete stranger.

"A typo," I repeated, my voice dropping to a whisper.

"Yes. A typo." He straightened up, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. "I'm going to bed. You need to calm down and stop acting like a lunatic. We'll talk about this in the morning when you are rational."

He turned his back on me and walked out. The door clicked shut, sealing me in the silence of the study.

Our mind-link buzzed in my head. It wasn't a connection of comfort or reassurance. It vibrated with a massive, unspoken lie. The static noise gave me a headache.

I stood alone in the dark for a long time. The burning in my neck slowly faded to a dull ache.

I walked around the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside lay a thick manila envelope and a small, velvet-wrapped box. The envelope held a signed transfer of voting authority over fifteen percent of the Silver Moon territorial trust—land, businesses, and mineral rights held for the Pack. I had spent weeks fighting the trustees to give Kael a permanent voice over assets that belonged to my bloodline. The Pack Council had already been notified.

It was supposed to be his tenth-anniversary gift. A symbol of absolute trust.

I pulled the contract out. My hands gripped the edges of the thick, expensive paper.

So much for our anniversary.

I ripped the pages in half. The sound of tearing paper was loud in the quiet room. I stacked the halves and tore them again. Then in quarters. I kept tearing until my fingers cramped and the contract was nothing but confetti.

I grabbed the small trash can beside the desk and dumped the shredded paper inside. I picked up the velvet-wrapped box, didn't even bother opening it, and tossed it right on top of the mess.

I left the study and walked down the long hallway. I didn't go to our master bedroom. I couldn't stomach the thought of lying next to him.

I pushed open the door to the guest room. The air inside was stale. I lay down on the mattress fully clothed and stared at the blank ceiling. The streetlights outside cast long, distorted shadows across the walls.

Sleep was impossible. A terrifying thought circled my mind, pacing back and forth like a hunting wolf.

I remembered the day Caleb was born. I remembered the agonizing pain, the blood, the exhausted cries. I remembered the nurses placing a swaddled infant on my chest.

If Caleb wasn't my biological son, then whose child was he?

And more importantly, where was my actual baby?

I reached up and traced the raised scar on my neck. It throbbed beneath my fingertips, feeling alien and wrong. A mate mark was supposed to tether two souls together. It was supposed to feel like home.

Why did my Mark feel like it was left by a stranger?

A sudden, sharp knock on the front door downstairs shattered the quiet of the house. I sat up quickly, the springs of the mattress groaning in protest. It was past midnight. No one from the pack ever visited this late unless there was an emergency.

I held my breath, waiting for Kael to answer it.

Another knock echoed up the stairs. Louder this time. Urgent.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and walked out into the hallway.