Pregnant with the Alpha's Heir,I Reject Him for the Lycan KingChapter 1

I had lived two lives.

In both, I followed Fenris Vargr into the quiet territories beyond the Dominion's reach after he stepped down from the Crimson Fang, living peacefully in a small den at the edge of the world, wanting nothing.

And in both, his adopted sister clawed her way into the Moonhold Citadel and dragged us down with her. Our territory was seized. Our pack, annihilated to the last pup.

It always started the same way. She would kneel outside our cabin in the frost, sobbing that the Alpha Supreme had cast her aside, that he'd chosen another wolf as his Luna.

Fenris would set down his axe and sigh. "You know I can't stand watching you cry."

Then he'd pull his dust-covered battle pelt from the chest and follow her back to Aurelia.

It took dying twice for me to understand.

All that talk of sibling devotion.

Every word of it was a lie.

——

Fenris Vargr was returning to Aurelia in triumph, and every unmated she-wolf in the territory had rushed to the gates to welcome him home.

I was the only one walking the other way.

My little sister Briar Ashgrove tugged at my sleeve. "Seraphina, aren't we going to meet him?"

I should have been. In both my previous lives, that was exactly what I'd done.

The script never changed.

I congratulated him on his victory.

He declared his courtship claim in front of the entire territory.

We mated, we grew old together, we never parted.

It took a third life to see the truth: I'd given my heart to the wrong wolf.

I tightened my grip on Briar's hand. "We're going home."

The crowd pressed in from every side, the air thick with dust and the mingled scents of too many wolves. Dozens of scent signatures tangled together until they became one choking wall of musk and adrenaline and excitement. Each breath felt like swallowing stones.

Briar pointed at my hair. "But you got up before dawn to do your hair. Wasn't that for him?"

"Did he make you angry? Is that why you won't let him see your pretty hairdo?"

I had no answer for that.

I reached up and pulled the moonblossom from my hair.

Placed it in my palm and crushed it, slowly, between my fingers. The petals bruised silver, then went dark.

Once, a bright-eyed boy had tucked a twin-stemmed moonblossom behind my ear.

He made me promise to wear one when I came to welcome him home from war.