Reborn, I Rejected My Alpha First Chapter 08

The Elders took forty minutes.

It should have taken ten, but four of the oldest needed half an hour to travel the emotional distance between

poor Seraphina and Alpha Vale, what are your orders.

“It’s simple,” I told them. “Our Alpha is charged with conspiracy against his own Luna. Our Law–Elder helped him and is suspended. Our southern neighbor is threatening to starve us unless we free a girl who lied Before

the Crown. Questions?”

Elder Fenwick cleared his throat. “Regarding Ironfang. The southern road is not a small thing, Seraphina. Perhaps a quiet accommodation-”

“Fenwick. If we teach every neighbor that threats work, we won’t have a pack. We’ll have a hostage.”

“But without the road-”

“I spoke with Stormridge and Hollowmere at dawn. They’ve wanted a route through the northern pass for nine years. They’ve simply never had an opening.” I slid the agreements down the table. “We lose Ironfang, we replace them by spring. On better terms. With allies who owe me.”

Silence. Then Fenwick, old fox that he was, smiled first.

“All in favor of naming Seraphina Vale Alpha of Silverpine?”

Every hand rose.

From the back wall, Kael Draven said nothing at all. But when I looked up, his storm–grey eyes were already on me, and something in my chest that had been frozen for two lifetimes cracked, just slightly.

The first she–wolf Alpha in Silverpine’s history.

My father would have laughed himself hoarse.

The new moon came. I did not free Briar Thorne.

That night, Corvin Thorne closed the southern border and sent riders to every pack on the continent, whispering that Silverpine was unstable, ruled by a vengeful female.

The next morning, a sealed chest arrived at the Lycan King’s court in Greyhollow.

Inside was everything Rook had gathered over three very productive weeks. Thorne had bribed two border

wardens. He’d forged hunting rights. He’d smuggled wolfsbane through a shell trader in Ashmere, the same supplier who sold the vial in Celeste’s locket. And the day before my ceremony, he’d sent his daughter a purse of gold with a note: Do as Damon says.

In my last life I had eight years in the dark to memorize every name that built my cage.

This life, I was simply working down the list.

By the end of the week, Thorne was the unstable one.

The next Tuesday, someone knocked on my door at seven in the morning.

Two wolves on my porch in their good clothes, the female already weeping before the door was fully open.

Celeste’s birth parents. The ones who abandoned her at nine, and who, it seemed, had found her again when she started wearing my mother’s pearls.

The woman dropped to her knees on my doormat. Actually dropped, with a thud meant to be heard.

“Please, Alpha! Our Celeste is a good girl! That male tricked her! She’s carrying a pup! You’re a mother! Ask the

King to let her go!”

The husband twisted his hat. “We’re simple wolves. She made one mistake. You’re rich. You didn’t really lose.

anything-”

There it was. The family motto.

“Didn’t lose anything,” I repeated.

“Your name’s fine! Your pack’s fine! Where’s the harm-”

“Stand up. The performance doesn’t work on me.” I held up my phone. “Before you say another word. My

security chief visited Ashmere last week. Your town. Lovely place. He spoke to the Alpha’s eldest son there. The one who paid your family forty thousand in gold when Celeste was eighteen. Something about a torn dress, a lost pup, and a pregnancy that disappeared the moment the money arrived.”

The woman stopped crying. Instantly. Like a tap shutting off.

“Which,” I continued, “is remarkably close to what your new house cost that same summer.”

The husband yanked his wife up by the arm. “We’re leaving.”

“Yes,” I said. “You are. And if you’d like to perform again, the King’s court has excellent seating. I’ve already

sent them a copy.”

Halfway down the drive, the woman whirled back, mask off, face twisted.

“You’ll die alone, you cold–blooded bitch!”

Behind me, small footsteps. Lily in her pajamas, peeking around my leg.

“Mama, who were they?”

I shut the door.

“Salespeople, baby,” I said. “Selling something we already sent back.”