Alpha's Rejected Luna

I kneel in the soft earth of the packhouse greenhouse, my fingers working methodically as I plant the spring seedlings in neat rows. The morning sun filters through the glass panels, casting dappled patterns across my work. This early hour in the gardens is my sanctuary—when most pack members are still in their homes and the communal packhouse stands nearly empty except for the Alpha family and us omegas.

The quiet allows me to think, to breathe, to prepare myself for tomorrow. I press another seedling into the soil, patting the earth around it with perhaps more care than necessary. Plants are forgiving that way. They don't care if your hands tremble slightly or if your eyes mist over when you tend to them.

"There you go," I whisper to the tiny green shoot. "Grow strong."

Tomorrow marks two significant events: my eighteenth birthday and the thirteenth anniversary of my mother's death. The universe has a cruel sense of humor sometimes, making the day that should bring me nothing but joy forever intertwined with my greatest loss.

I sit back on my heels and wipe my brow with my forearm, leaving a smudge of dirt I don't bother to clean. At eighteen, every wolf can sense their destined mate—the one soul the Moon Goddess created specifically for them. It's the moment every young wolf dreams about. I should be nothing but excited, but my heart feels heavy with the weight of absence.

My mother, Valerie, would have been so happy to see me reach this milestone. She wasn't born an omega, but she wore the rank with pride and dignity. "Being an omega isn't about being less," she used to tell me. "It's about being the heart of the pack."

I reach into my pocket and pull out the small wooden wolf carving my father made for my mother before he died. It's worn smooth from years of my mother's touch and now mine. My father, Gregory, died during a hunting accident while my mother was still carrying me. I never knew him except through my mother's stories, which she shared generously despite the pain they sometimes caused her.

"Your father had the kindest eyes," she would say. "And when he laughed, Thalia, the whole world seemed to laugh with him."

I tuck the carving away and stand, brushing soil from my knees. I need to finish here and get to the kitchen. Mrs. Powell will be overwhelmed with preparations for tomorrow's festivities. Not that she'd ever admit it, but I can read the signs after all these years.

The celebration tomorrow isn't just for me, of course. It's also Lucien Draeven's birthday—the Alpha's son and my childhood friend. Or former friend, I should say. We haven't been close since the day my mother died protecting him.

I gather my gardening tools and head toward the packhouse kitchen, my mind drifting to memories of Lucien and me as pups, racing through the packhouse halls, hiding under tables during pack meetings, falling asleep together during full moon celebrations. Those days feel like they belonged to different wolves entirely.

As I approach the main building, I catch a glimpse of him—Lucien—emerging from the training grounds with several other dominant wolves. His tall frame moves with the easy confidence of someone who's never questioned his place in the world. His dark hair is damp with sweat, and his laugh carries across the yard.

For a moment, our eyes meet, and I see a flicker of something—recognition, perhaps regret—before his expression hardens and he turns away, saying something to his companions that makes them laugh. I pretend it doesn't sting and continue on my way.

The kitchen is already bustling when I arrive. Mrs. Powell stands at the center island, flour up to her elbows, directing two younger omegas like a general commanding troops.

"There you are, Thalia!" she exclaims when she spots me. "I was beginning to think you'd run off to avoid all this madness."

I smile and grab an apron from the hook. "And miss the chance to see you in your element, Momma Powell? Never."

"Bless your heart, child." She gestures to a mountain of vegetables. "The Alpha invited nearly three hundred wolves from neighboring packs—all with eligible daughters, of course. You'd think he was trying to ensure every unmated female on the continent gets a chance at his precious son."

I tie the apron around my waist and move to the sink to wash my hands. "That's tradition, isn't it? The more females present, the better chance of finding a mate."

Mrs. Powell snorts. "In my day, we let the Goddess do her work without all this pageantry. Now it's become a competition between Alphas to host the most extravagant coming-of-age celebrations." She hands me a knife. "You start on those vegetables for the stew. I need to focus on these pastries."

I work silently for a while, chopping carrots and potatoes with practiced efficiency. My mind wanders to what tomorrow might bring. Will I sense my mate? And if I do, what then? Omegas rarely mate with wolves from other packs—we're too valuable to our own. More likely, my mate will be someone from within our borders, someone I already know.

"Thalia," Mrs. Powell says softly, interrupting my thoughts. "I know tomorrow is difficult for you. Your mother would be so proud of the wolf you've become."

I swallow hard against the sudden tightness in my throat. "Thank you. I just wish—"

"Good morning, ladies," Alpha Victor's deep voice booms as he enters the kitchen, cutting off my response.

I straighten immediately, offering a respectful nod as Mrs. Powell wipes her hands on her apron.

"Alpha," she acknowledges. "I hope you're prepared to explain to me why I'm cooking for an army with barely any notice."

Alpha Victor laughs, the sound warm and genuine. Unlike his mate, he's always treated the omegas with respect. "Come now, Mrs. Powell. We both know you'd have chased off any outside help I tried to bring in."

"Hmph," she responds, but there's no real heat in it. "You're lucky I like a challenge."

I move to prepare the Alpha's breakfast without being asked, selecting his favorites and arranging them carefully on a plate. Just as I'm finishing, I catch Luna Veronica's scent approaching. I quickly prepare her plate as well, placing it beside the Alpha's before retreating back to my vegetable station.

"Thalia," Alpha Victor says, his tone thoughtful. "Tomorrow is your birthday too, isn't it?"

I keep my eyes on my work as I answer. "Yes, Alpha. I'll be eighteen as well."

"Your mother was an exceptional wolf," he says softly. "The pack still feels her loss."

I can sense Luna Veronica's icy glare without looking up. Her scent shifts, turning sharp with anger.

"Must we discuss this now?" she snaps. "Tomorrow is our son's special day. The future Alpha finding his mate is slightly more significant than an omega's birthday."

The kitchen falls silent. Mrs. Powell's hands still in her dough, and I grip my knife tighter.

"Veronica," Alpha Victor growls, a warning in his voice.

I turn to face them, meeting Luna Veronica's cold blue eyes directly. "It's alright, Alpha. I understand tomorrow is an important day for Lucien."

"It's an important day for you too, Thalia," Alpha Victor insists, his jaw tight with barely contained anger. "Every wolf's coming of age deserves recognition."

Luna Veronica's laugh is brittle. "Recognition? For what? Turning eighteen like every other wolf? Meanwhile, our son—"

"Our son," Alpha Victor cuts in, his voice dropping dangerously low, "would not be alive to turn eighteen if it weren't for Valerie Morwyn. Or have you forgotten that?"

The Luna's face pales, then flushes with anger. "How dare you use your Alpha voice on me? I am your Luna!"

"And you seem to have forgotten what that title means," he retorts. "We serve our pack—all of our pack. Not just the dominants."

Luna Veronica's eyes dart to me, filled with a hatred I've grown accustomed to over the years. "You should be more concerned with your son finding a suitable mate than coddling the daughter of a dead omega."

Before I can stop myself, I step forward, fury burning through my veins. Mrs. Powell catches my arm, her grip firm but gentle.

"Thalia," she murmurs, a warning.

The room falls silent, tension crackling like lightning before a storm. Luna Veronica and I stare at each other, years of unspoken accusations hanging between us.

Alpha Victor sighs heavily. "Thalia, perhaps you could check if Paige needs help with the guest quarters? We're expecting arrivals starting this afternoon."

I understand the dismissal for what it is—an attempt to defuse the situation before it explodes. I nod stiffly, untying my apron.

"Of course, Alpha," I say, my voice steady despite the anger still coursing through me.

As I leave the kitchen, I hold my head high. My mother taught me to be proud of who I am, to serve with dignity but never to believe I'm worth less than any dominant wolf. Tomorrow I turn eighteen, and whether I find my mate or not, I'll honor her memory by standing tall.

Just like my omega mother taught me.

Be strong. Be proud. Be yourself.