The Alpha's Rejected and Reborn Mate

“My mate, Alpha Alaric, who had been my protector since I was a child, was holding his bonding ceremony with another woman. When his chosen Luna, Seraphina, arrived at the pack house, she glided up the stairs and offered me a small "welcome gift." It was a delicate bracelet, intricately woven from pure silver. To werewolves, silver is agony. It burns our skin, seeps into our blood, and prevents our healing. I flinched back, but Alaric's voice boomed from the bottom of the stairs, laced with the undeniable force of his Alpha's Command. "Take it, Elara." The command wrapped around my will, forcing my hand forward. "Don't disrespect your future Luna," he added, his voice cold. The moment the metal touched my skin, a sharp, white-hot pain shot up my arm. I looked from the searing silver on my wrist to Alaric's impassive face, and the last, fragile ember of hope inside me died. He hadn't just forgotten his affection for me; he had forgotten the one thing that could truly hurt me. With my head held high, I turned and walked away. The silver thorn on my wrist was a constant, agonizing promise of the freedom that was to come.”