My Wife Has A Royal Blood

They say your first shift is supposed to be magical, a moment when you finally connect with the wolf inside you.

I still remember the sting of his words, the way Alpha Marcus looked at me like I was nothing. "I, Alpha Marcus, reject you, Emily Ravens, as my mate."

His voice was cold, detached, as if he were simply brushing off a speck of dirt from his shoulder. The rest of the pack watched, their eyes filled with a mix of pity and disgust. How could I, an orphan with no family, no name to honor, even think I was worthy of an alpha? The air around us felt thick, suffocating, as though it was pressing down on me, urging me to crumble under the weight of his rejection.

But I refused to break. Not in front of them. Not in front of him.

"I understand," I replied, my voice steady, even as a storm of emotions raged inside me. Anger, humiliation, sadness-they swirled together, forming a knot in my chest that threatened to choke me. But I swallowed it down, every bitter drop, and forced myself to meet his gaze. His eyes, so cold and unforgiving, didn't even flicker with regret or hesitation. I was nothing to him. Less than nothing.

The pack was silent, their whispers from moments ago dying away as they waited for me to react, to fall apart. But I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. My legs felt like they were made of lead, but I managed to turn away from Marcus, keeping my head high as I walked through the crowd. I could feel their stares burning into my back, each one a knife in my already bleeding heart.

As I left the clearing, the forest seemed to close in around me, the trees like silent sentinels bearing witness to my shame. The moonlight barely filtered through the thick canopy, casting everything in shadow. I stumbled over roots and rocks, but I kept going, needing to get away, to find somewhere I could breath.

The pain of rejection wasn't just emotional-it was physical, a searing ache that spread through every nerve in my body. My wolf, who had been so eager to bond with her mate, was now retreating into the deepest corners of my mind, wounded and silent. I could feel her sadness, her confusion. Why hadn't she emerged when I turned 18, like everyone else's wolf? Why was I still incomplete, still trapped in this limbo between human and wolf, even at 19?

Most in the pack shifted by 18. Some even earlier, at 16 or 17, their wolves strong and vibrant, a source of pride. But not me. Every day that passed without my first shift was another reminder that I was different, that I didn't belong. And the pack didn't let me forget it. They whispered behind my back, laughed when they thought I couldn't hear, and looked at me with thinly veiled pity or disdain. To them, I was a failure, a freak, an orphan without a wolf.

It was that failure, that perceived weakness, that had driven Marcus to reject me. I wasn't just a poor match for an alpha, I was an embarrassment. He needed a strong mate, someone who could stand by his side and command respect. Someone who could shift, lead, and fight. And I wasn't that someone.

The thought of it sent a fresh wave of humiliation washing over me, and I had to force myself to keep walking, to push past the memories of the pack's judging eyes and Marcus's cold voice. The forest was thick around me, the darkness broken only by slivers of moonlight that filtered through the trees, but I didn't care where I was going. I just needed to move, to escape the crushing weight of my own inadequacy.