Chapter 2: The Alpha King's Cruelty

The Great Hall buzzed with an energy I’d never felt before. Usually reserved for pack feasts and formal announcements, tonight it crackled with anticipation. Torches cast flickering shadows on the heavy wooden beams overhead, illuminating the faces of the Silver Moon pack members crowded shoulder-to-shoulder. Higher ranks stood near the front platform – Alphas, Betas, Gammas, their postures proud, their clothes finer than the roughspun worn by the Deltas and Omegas clustered near the back walls. I stood among the lowest, trying to make myself invisible, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Every unmated wolf turning eighteen this cycle stood nervously apart, waiting. Valerie was near the front, naturally, preening under the admiring glances of some warriors, her chin high. She looked every bit the part of a future Luna – confident, beautiful, strong. Everything I wasn't. My hands, hidden in the folds of my tunic, were damp with sweat. I felt small, insignificant, a grey mouse cowering in a hall of wolves.

Then, a hush fell over the crowd. A palpable wave of power washed through the hall, raising the hairs on my arms. The heavy oak doors at the far end swung open.

Alpha King Rhys entered.

He didn't just walk; he commanded the space. Taller than anyone else, broad-shouldered, radiating an aura of raw dominance that demanded submission. He wore simple, dark attire – practical leather trousers and a tunic that did nothing to hide the sculpted muscle beneath – yet he looked more regal than any Alpha in ceremonial furs. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his jaw sharp and uncompromising. But it was his eyes that captured everyone’s attention – a startling, piercing shade of icy blue that swept across the room, missing nothing, assessing everything. They held no warmth, only power and an unnerving stillness. The air grew thick with deference; even our pack Alpha seemed to shrink slightly in his presence.

He moved towards the platform where our Alpha waited, his steps silent, predatory. My breath caught in my throat. This was the male Valerie thought suitable for herself? He was terrifying. Beautiful, yes, in a dangerous, untamed way, but utterly intimidating.

The ceremony began. Our Alpha mumbled greetings, his voice strained. King Rhys inclined his head slightly, his gaze still sweeping the crowd, dismissive yet sharp. Names were called. Young wolves stepped forward, met their potential Mates, felt the bond – or didn't. Some pairs beamed, touching hands tentatively; others stepped back, disappointment clear on their faces. Each name called that wasn't mine was both a relief and a spike of anxiety.

My gaze kept unwillingly drifting towards the Alpha King. He seemed utterly detached from the proceedings, a bored predator observing lesser creatures. Then, his eyes, those glacial blue shards, flickered across the back of the hall. They passed over me once, twice… and then snapped back.

Everything stopped. The low murmur of the crowd, the crackle of the torches, the frantic beat of my own heart – it all went silent. It was like the world suddenly tilted on its axis. A jolt, fierce and undeniable, shot through me, straight to my core. It wasn't painful, but it was overwhelming – a searing heat, a blinding flash of recognition that resonated deep in my soul. It felt like finding something I hadn't even known I was missing, a sense of rightness so profound it stole my breath. Mate. The word bloomed in my mind, instinctive and absolute.

Across the hall, Alpha King Rhys stiffened. His icy composure shattered, replaced by raw shock. His eyes locked onto mine, widening almost imperceptibly. I saw the same jolt reflected there, the same stunning recognition. He felt it too. The Alpha King… was my Mate.

A collective gasp swept the hall as heads turned, following his stunned gaze directly to me, the Omega cowering by the back wall. Disbelief warred with shock on every face. Valerie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening in horror and fury. For one dizzying, impossible second, triumph surged through me. Me. He was mine. The Goddess hadn't abandoned me.

But the moment shattered as quickly as it formed. Rhys’s shock morphed into something else. His eyes narrowed, scanning me from head to toe. I saw the assessment, the calculation. He took in my worn grey tunic, my trembling hands, my slight frame, the way I instinctively flinched under the sudden weight of a hundred stares. I saw the flicker of… something – possessiveness? – immediately overridden by a harsh, cold appraisal. His advisors, standing near the platform, shifted uneasily, murmuring amongst themselves, their eyes flicking between Rhys and me with obvious disapproval. The weight of his kingdom, the need for strength he likely preached daily, seemed to descend upon him.

His expression hardened into an impenetrable mask of indifference, colder than the ice in his eyes. He straightened to his full, imposing height, his voice ringing through the stunned silence, sharp and final.

"I, Alpha King Rhys, reject Elara of the Silver Moon pack as my Mate and my Luna."

The words struck me like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. Rejected. The bond, so new, so bright, felt like it was being ripped violently from my chest, leaving a bleeding, gaping wound. Tears welled instantly, blurring the horrified faces of the pack, blurring the cold, dismissive visage of the King – my Mate – who had just condemned me.

He wasn’t finished. His voice cut through my despair like a blade. "She is too weak to stand by my side. Too weak to bear the burden of a Queen."

Silence. Heavy, absolute silence, broken only by my own ragged gasp. Then, a choked giggle from near the front – Valerie. A wave of scornful murmurs rippled through the crowd. Weak. Useless. Rejected by the Alpha King himself. My worst fears realised, amplified a thousand times. Humiliation burned hotter than the tears streaming down my face.

Rhys turned away from me then, dismissing me as if I were less than nothing, a piece of refuse to be discarded. He addressed our trembling Alpha.

"She is banished," he commanded, his voice devoid of any emotion. "From this pack, from the territories of the Northern Alliance. Have her gone by sunrise. Her weakness is a liability we cannot afford."

Banished. Not just rejected, but exiled. Cast out into the wilderness alone. A death sentence for a lone Omega. The pack members near me instinctively drew away, as if my rejection, my weakness, were contagious. I stood utterly alone in the centre of a hostile sea, the weight of the Alpha King's decree crushing me. The fragile hope I had carried into this hall lay shattered at my feet, ground into dust by the cruel boot of the man destined to be my other half.