The Rejection
Camilla's POV
The world spun, my vision blurring.
Whispers turned into roars. Eyes stared, wide and unblinking, judging and blaming me.
I stood in the middle of the Great Hall, alone, stripped of dignity, pride, and love. The white ceremonial robe that once symbolized honor now clung to my trembling body like a shroud.
The light of the full moon streamed down from the sky above, but its silver glow didn't bless me tonight—it burned.
Because the pack I had loved my entire life now saw me as nothing but a liar.
A traitor.
"Did you hear?"
"She tried to betray Alpha Michael."
"She ran away in shame after trying to seduce another pack's warrior."
"Her sister saved the Alpha. He made the right choice."
None of it was true.
But no one cared.
Not when Caroline's lies were already rooted deep in everyone's ears. Not when Michael—the one man I thought I could trust—stood in the center of the room beside my sister and looked at me like I was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I couldn't even speak. My throat burned with unshed tears. My heart shattered as my gaze swept the room, desperate—pleading—for someone to believe me.
And then I saw him.
My father.
Jack. The pack's revered warrior, the man who trained me with his own hands. The man who once placed his hand on my shoulder and said I had the heart of a Luna.
He stood near the elders, his arms folded tightly, his face carved from stone.
I stared at him, silently begging him to defend me.
He looked away.
My soul broke.
Hours earlier, I had been preparing for the most sacred moment of my life—my marking. I remembered standing in front of the mirror as the elder women wove silver threads through my braid and whispered blessings from the Moon Goddess.
I remembered smiling as my father told me I looked just like my mother did on her mating night.
But by morning, everything had been destroyed.
And my twin—my own blood—was at the center of it all.
She hadn't just stolen my mate.
She had stolen my voice.
She spun a story I never saw coming. That I had doubts about Michael. That I planned to betray the pack and reject his mark.
That I wanted to join another pack and disgrace my family name.
And she'd done it all so perfectly—her voice trembling just enough to sound believable. Her tears welling up just enough to appear honest.
It was brilliant and devastating.
Because everyone believed her.
Especially Michael.
When I confronted him, trembling with rage, he didn't even let me speak.
"You played me," he snapped, his voice void of warmth. "While I was planning our future, you were planning to escape it. Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"
"Michael, I—"
"You flirted with a warrior from the southern border! You thought I wouldn't notice how you looked at him during the feast?"
"What are you talking about? That never happened!"
He didn't listen.
"She was honest with me, Camilla," he said, gesturing to Caroline, who stood behind him in mock sorrow.
"She told me the truth. That you were never invested. That I was just a stepping stone for you to reach some higher rank in another pack."
My chest heaved. "That's not true. I loved you Michael, I chose you."
"No," he said coldly. "You chose ambition."
And in front of the entire pack, he turned away from me.
He took Caroline's hand.
And he marked her.
The rejection wasn't spoken in words. It didn't need to be.
It was there in his silence. In the way he refused to meet my eyes. In the way he allowed Caroline's lies to become gospel.
I should have fought harder. I should have screamed, I should have thrown the truth in their faces.
But I couldn't.
Because when the people you love the most turn their backs on you, your voice dies in your throat.
So I did the only thing I could do.
I walked out, into the deep and dangerous forest.
The forest was quiet as I ran. The branches tore at my sleeves, the underbrush clawed at my ankles, and the moon followed me like a ghost.
My tears blurred everything, but I didn't stop. I didn't care where I was going, I only knew I had to get away from them.
From the betrayal, the shame and the lies.
My wolf howled inside me, not in rage, but in mourning.
She had loved Michael. She had accepted him. And now she had been tossed aside like a mistake.
I collapsed near a riverbank, the scent of pine and moss wrapping around me like a blanket.
The cold seeped into my bones. My breaths came in broken gasps. I had no pack, no family and no mate.
The forest was now my only companion.
And death, perhaps, would be my next.
But the Moon Goddess wasn't finished with me yet.
A rustle in the trees.
The snap of twigs.
My head jerked up, but my limbs were too weak to fight. I barely managed to shift into a defensive crouch before I saw him.
A tall figure emerging from the deep darkness, broad-shouldered and powerful muscles his eyes glowing silver in the darkness.
His scent hit me instantly—earth, snow, and something ancient. Not Moonlight Pack, not familiar.
Dangerous and also dominant.
A stranger.
I tried to speak, but my lips barely moved. The world tilted and my vision blurred once again.
The last thing I saw before everything went black was the stranger kneeling beside me, his hand brushing my cheek, and the deep, rich voice that whispered, "She's not from here… but she's mine now."
I woke to warmth.
Soft blankets, to a crackling fire. The scent of wild herbs and healing salves.
For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.
Then I opened my eyes—and realized I wasn't in the Moonlight Pack anymore.
This place was different. The walls were made of thick timber, the air clean. The windows let in morning light, and outside, I could hear the distant sound of wolves training.
Someone had brought me here.
And then the door opened.
He stepped in like a storm wrapped in calm.
Tall and muscular. Raven-black hair that fell slightly into his eyes. And those eyes—silver-gray like mist over a winter lake—locked on me with quiet intensity.
"I see you're awake," he said.
I swallowed hard. "Where… am I?"
"You're in Silver Pack territory," he said. "Near the eastern mountains."
Panic surged me. "I didn't mean to trespass—"
"You didn't, I found you unconscious, alone and bleeding. I brought you here."
I sat up slowly. Pain laced through my ribs, but it was bearable.
"Why?"
He tilted his head. "Because no one deserves to be left in the woods to die. Especially not someone who smells like shattered broken loyalty."
I flinched.
"Your old pack rejected you."
It wasn't a question.
I nodded once. "They believed my sister's lies. My mate marked the wrong twin… and let me take the fall for it."
He looked at me for a long time, as if trying to read a language written across my skin.
Then, in a tone that carried more weight than I understood, he said, "Fools."
I blinked.
He stepped closer and extended a hand.
"My name is Marcus," he said. "Alpha of the Silver Pack."
Alpha.
My heart skipped.
"I'm… Camilla."
"I know."
He studied me a moment longer. "You don't have to speak of what happened. Not until you're ready.
But you're safe here now. No one will question you, no one will shame you."
Tears filled my eyes again—but this time, not from pain.
From relief.
From the first sense of safety I'd felt in days.
I took his hand.
And in that moment, something shifted in the air.
Something ancient, powerful.
He felt it too.
His eyes darkened slightly as he inhaled, nostrils flaring.
The room grew very still.
"You're not just any she-wolf," he murmured, voice rough. "The Moon Goddess has her hands on you."
I looked at him, trembling.
And for the first time since everything fell apart, a spark of hope bloomed in my chest.