Rejected By The Alpha, Desired By The King

AYLA – POV

When we emerged from the tomb, the air felt older.

Like the forest itself had been holding its breath.

The crown didn't press against my head. It pulsed—subtle, steady, like a heartbeat not quite mine. The magic it carried whispered along my spine, ancient and undeniable.

I wasn't just Ayla anymore.

I was the storm the Seers had tried to forget.

Kael walked beside me, silent, but every step he took was measured. Rylan kept his distance, eyes shifting from shadow to shadow. None of us spoke.

Not yet.

The grove greeted us with silence. The ash tree stood at its center, blackened but proud. Beneath its branches, wolves gathered—rogues, banished betas, broken omegas. Scarred and uncertain.

I recognized them.

Not by name. By pain.

They stared at me like I was myth. Like I had torn myself from a page of prophecy and stepped into flesh.

I walked through them, each step sinking into the soft, damp earth.

One wolf bowed his head.

Then another.

Then twenty.

Until the grove was ringed by bodies not bowing out of fear—But in recognition.

I reached the ash tree and stepped onto the exposed root. It curved like a dais beneath me.

"I was told I would never be Luna," I said, voice quiet but clear. "Told that a healer's hands couldn't hold power. That an omega couldn't lead."

I let my gaze sweep across them.

"I believed them. For a time."

The wind stirred.

"But I bled anyway. I survived. I ran. I fought. And I remembered."

I lifted the bone crown from my head and held it out.

"This isn't a symbol of rule. It's a reminder of everything they tried to erase. And everyone they failed to kill."

The crown glowed, pulsing with silver heat.

"I am Ayla of No House. Of no court. No chain. I am Luna not by birth or bond. But by fire."

Howls rose.

And the ash tree bloomed.

Pale blossoms burst through black bark, glowing faintly in the twilight.

The wolves howled louder.

And I stood taller.

That night, we didn't feast.

We remembered.

Each wolf stepped forward. Told their story. Marked a stone with blood and breath. A rite of truth. Of release.

Some cried. Some didn't.

But each one looked at me as they spoke.

And I listened.

Not as a queen. As a witness.

Rylan returned just before dawn, wind-worn and hollow-eyed.

"They've named you traitor. Seer-bane. They've called a Judicium."

I didn't ask what it meant.

I already knew.

Kael hissed between his teeth. "That's a blood sentence. They'll send wolves. Armies."

"They'll send fear," I said. "And I don't carry that anymore."

I stood.

"My name may be cursed in their halls. But it will be carved into stone here."

We left before the sun could rise fully.

Through broken trails. Along forgotten rivers. Past ruins even history had abandoned.

Fifty wolves followed.

Not in ranks. Not in lines.

In unity.

We arrived at the Old Ring by twilight.

Seven Seers stood in the center.

Draped in ash-gray robes. Faces hidden.

I stepped into the circle.

A surge of pressure tried to shove me back.

I kept walking.

One Seer lifted a hand.

"You walk with stolen power."

"I walk with reclaimed blood."

"You wear a crown not meant for mortal hands."

"Then why does it burn with my breath?"

Their chant began—low and trembling.

I raised my arms.

And fire answered.

The grove behind me lit like dawn made flame. My wolves stood at the edge, eyes glowing, mouths open in song.

They were not an army.

They were a reckoning.

The Seers' magic rose.

So did mine.

And when it collided, the stone ring cracked.

Not metaphor. Stone split.

Magic screamed.

And I walked into the center.

Still standing.

Kael moved to my side. Rylan behind him.

I lifted my voice.

"You wrote me out of the history books. You silenced the bloodline that made you. You chained prophecy. Bound scent. Called power madness."

I took another step.

"And you lost. Because I remember."

The crown burned.

The Seers fell to one knee.

Then to both.

I placed my hand to the ground.

The earth shook.

The old laws written in root and ash unraveled.

And new ones began.

That night, Kael and I stood at the edge of the forest.

He reached for me.

"I thought I had to fight you."

I shook my head.

"No. You had to follow me through fire."

His lips brushed my knuckles.

And I let him stay.

Because a Luna doesn't rule alone.

She chooses who burns beside her.

The days after the confrontation at the Ring blurred like smoke through ash.

We didn't rest.

We prepared.

Every pack that had sworn to the Seers was now in question. Every wolf who bowed to the old code had seen the laws bend—and break.

And now they were watching me.

Not with fear.

With possibility.

I stood at the center of the ash grove, now fully bloomed. Pale leaves scattered down like feathers from a sky long silent.

Kael moved through the wolves, organizing, speaking low, commanding with the kind of authority that came from knowing when not to control.

Rylan worked on the eastern wards, carving bone into the earth with blood-ink and salt.

And me?

I waited.

Because they were coming.

The loyalists. The blood courts. The rest of the Council.

Not to beg. Not to bow.

To challenge.

And I would not flinch.

They arrived on the fourth day.

A procession of silver-armored wolves and silk-robed Seers. Seventeen in total. The last remnants of the old elite.

They didn't come cloaked in power. They came cloaked in desperation.

The lead figure stepped forward.

Tall. Cold-eyed. Alpha blood.

"You've unmade more than a bloodline," she said. "You've shattered our law."

"No," I replied. "I've returned it to its roots."

"This will tear the realm apart."

I lifted my chin.

"It's already torn. I'm just refusing to stitch it with lies."

She sneered. "You think because the wolves howl for you, you're a queen?"

"No," I said.

I stepped forward.

"I think I am their mirror. Their blood. Their reckoning."

I looked at the others behind her.

"You call this a throne. I call it a memory. You call this war. I call it truth."

I drew the bone dagger Rylan had carved for me.

Held it out.

"Swear here and now to rewrite the Council. To rebuild it with the bloodlines you silenced. Or bleed trying to hold on to what should've died with your lies."

One by one, they looked at the grove.

At the wolves.

At me.

And the first knee hit the earth.

Then another.

Then all.

Kael approached slowly, eyes wide.

"Was that it?"

"No," I said.

"That was just the beginning."

The crown pulsed.

A second heartbeat.

A second history. And I was ready to write it.