Rejected By The Alpha, Desired By The King

AYLA – POV

The claw mark on the altar didn't fade.

Three days. Rain. Fire rites. Lunar passage. Still there, burned deep.

Just like the message:

"Round two begins when you stop watching the sky and start protecting your spine."

I touched the scar on my collarbone. Not from battle. From choice and maybe that was the wound Neris meant all along.

Rylan found me training in the northern ring.

Daya circled me, blades out, sweat soaked.

I didn't stop.

Not when my feet ached.

Not when the breath came ragged.

Only when I heard Rylan say one word:

"Movement."

I lowered my blade.

"Where?"

"The Spine."

A cragline beyond the Tundra Wastes. A place wolves only went to disappear, and Neris was there.

We met that night in the war chamber.

Kael stood beside the map, jaw tight.

"She's drawing the Fracture Line," he said. "She's not testing borders anymore. She's building her own."

Daya scowled. "And we're supposed to sit here and let her?"

"No," I said. "We're going to walk into it."

Rylan blinked. "With what force?"

"None," I said.

They stared at me.

I added: "She's building something new. So am I. Let's see if those two things are bridges—or blades."

We traveled under cloak.

No banners.

No guards.

Just Kael, Rylan, Daya—and me.

The former Luna with no bond.

The Alpha King with no court.

A mage who burned bridges.

A blade who never missed.

And whatever waited for us at the edge of the world.

The Spine wasn't a place. It was a feeling. Like standing on the bones of something that had tried to live too hard—and failed.

Dead wolves whispered in that stone. So did the ones who'd never been born. And at the center of the ridgeline, carved into the rock:

A door.

No guards.

No markings.

Just a circle—carved with two sigils. Mine and hers.

Daya crouched beside it.

"No traps."

Rylan frowned. "No magic either. That's... wrong."

Kael: "It's an invitation."

I stepped forward.

Pressed my palm to the sigil, and the stone split.

Inside: silence.

And then—A hall lit by scentless flame. Walls lined with names I didn't recognize. Not of wolves, of attempts.

Words like "Bastion."

"Threadborne."

"Alpha Null."

And one that stopped me cold:

"Echo-1."

I turned.

Kael saw it too.

She wasn't the first.

We reached the chamber. Neris sat alone on a throne not made of stone. But of old bone collars, each broken in half.

"Welcome," she said.

"To the court that no longer kneels."

Neris didn't rise from the throne.

She let the silence stretch.

Made it feel like choice.

Kael's jaw was tight beside me. Daya hadn't blinked in minutes. Rylan was already sketching sigils in the air with his fingers, just in case.

But I didn't flinch.

Because this wasn't war.

Not yet.

"I didn't think you'd come," Neris said finally.

"I had to see what you were building."

She tilted her head. "And?"

I walked to the edge of the dais. "It's familiar."

She laughed. "Because I stole your bones?"

"No. Because I've stood where you're sitting."

Her smile faded.

"You came with questions," she said. "Ask them."

I did.

"What are the names on the walls?"

She gestured to the list carved into the stone.

"Failed experiments. Wolves who tried to survive without the bond. Not all made it."

"You built a throne on their failure."

"No," she said. "I built it so they'd be remembered."

We walked the court. No guards. No ranks. Just wolves in quiet vigil, each marked with a claw sigil on the throat. A vow, not of submission, but of survival.

"They chose me," Neris said, "because I didn't ask them to follow. I asked them to remember what it felt like before the bond told them who to be."

"And now?"

"Now they are wolves again. Not titles."

She showed us the archives next.

Scrolls, bones, old scent-writ.

And something else.

A name etched into iron:

AYLEN.

My birth name.

"You found it," I said.

"I saved it," she replied. "Before the well burned."

She handed me the piece. Warm. Worn. Alive.

Then came the part she hadn't warned me about.

A corridor.

And at the end—

another Echo. Breathing.

"This one," Neris said, "chose not to fight. She watches. She learns. She adapts."

The clone's eyes were mine.

But deeper.

Older.

She spoke: "I remember being you. And I remember the moment you stopped being afraid of becoming me."

Rylan stepped forward. "What is this?"

"A tether," Neris said. "Between memory and possibility."

"You kept her alive?" Kael growled.

"She's not dangerous," Neris replied. "She's insured."

I stepped into the room.

Faced myself.

The Echo didn't flinch.

She whispered: "She's afraid of what happens if we ever agree."

I whispered back: "Then let's find out."

I reached for her hand.

The chamber vanished.

The Spine blurred. And suddenly I stood in the past. Watching myself—The healer.

The captive.

The wolf.

The Luna.

And a voice whispered in the dark:

"Choose again."

The world folded around me—Not like a dream. Like a trapdoor under truth. I stood on a ridge not from this timeline. A branch of fate where my choices split like threads on a loom.

I was barefoot. Wrapped in healer's robes. And I was staring at a version of myself I barely recognized:

The one who never chose.

Never fled the ward. Never defied the Luna decree. Never stepped into Kael's path.

She looked calm.

She looked hollow.

The Echo stood beside me, watching.

"This is your 'what if,'" she said. "If you'd never fought. Never claimed. Just existed."

"She's not real."

"She's as real as the bond you gave up."

I turned.

The scene shifted. Now I was kneeling in the Grove.

Kael's mark half-burned into my throat.

No rebellion.

Just compliance.

He stood before me—cold, distant. Not the Kael I knew.

A king with no Luna.

A tyrant.

The bond tethered like a leash.

The crowd around us cheered.

And I felt myself scream—But no sound came out.

I spun another path. Me, mated to Rylan. The bond was accepted.

Peaceful.

Muted.

No war.

But no fire.

My wolf looked... caged.

Daya wasn't in the picture.

Kael never rose.

Cassia ruled the Bone Court.

And the Seers? Obsolete.

Truth erased in favor of harmony.

Too quiet.

Too clean.

Too wrong.

I turned back to the Echo.

"Why show me these?"

"To remind you why you chose the hard path."

"I remember."

"Do you?"

She walked to the edge of the memory-plane, and held out her hand.

"There's one more."

This time, I was alone. No court. No Kael. Just a burned Grove, an empty altar.

No wolves.

Only bones.

And a single token.

Mine.

Cracked in half.

I bent to pick it up—And the world shattered.

I woke up gasping.

Rylan hovered over me, eyes wide.

Daya had her blade drawn.

Kael—his hand on my shoulder, pulse erratic.

Neris stood back.

Silent.

"You came back," she whispered.

"Where did I go?" I croaked.

She answered:

"To the moment that made you."

And as I sat up, heart pounding—I realized I was holding something.

A piece of stone.

The token.

Whole again.

But glowing now.

With a third mark I didn't recognize. One that shimmered and shifted, never settling.

Rylan whispered:

"A new crest."

Daya murmured:

"A new Luna."

Kael just said:

"You came back changed."

And I looked to Neris.

She smiled.

"No," I said.

"I came back ready."