THE ENTITLED ALPHA'S REJECTED MATE

The council room of the Northern pack was a towering stone structure, its walls were cold and adorned with ancient traditions that bore the stories of Kaelen’s

bloodline. The air inside was tense, thick with the scent of dominance and fear, as the pack’s alpha took his place at

the head of a long wooden table. His dark eyes scanned the room like a predator evaluating his prey, his every movement deliberate, his presence suffocating.

Kaelen Norther was a potent alpha, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and often dressed in dark leather that clung to his muscular frame, he radiated authority. He sat at the head of the massive wooden table, his cold blue eyes were scanning the faces of the council members seated before him. The pack’s council room was dimly lit, the only light coming was from the roaring fire in the corner and the silver chandeliers hanging above. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Kaelen thrived in moments like this, moments where his authority was absolute and his word was final. His deep voice carried through the room as he addressed the group gathered before him.

A rival alpha had dared to encroach on their hunting grounds and the report had reached Kaelen’s ears only hours ago. His fingers drummed rhythmically on the table.

What you’re saying,” Kaelen began, his voice low but filled with an unmistakable edge, “is that Alpha Roshan

believes he has the right to challenge our borders?”

The man seated to Kaelen’s left, Dain, shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It seems so, Alpha. He’s claiming that part of the northern grounds fall under his

jurisdiction.”

Kaelen’s jaw tightened. The room felt colder as his aura darkened, his wolf was bristling beneath the surface.

“And what did you tell him?” Kaelen’s tone was deceptively calm, a dangerous calm that made everyone in the room hold their breath.

“I told him we’d bring the matter to you,” Dain answered, avoiding Kaelen’s gaze.

Kaelen stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. “Bring the matter to me?” he repeated, his voice rising. “Did it occur to you to remind Roshan that he’s a flea compared to us? That his pack survives because I allow it?”

The tension in the room was suffocating. No one dared to respond. Kaelen walked to the large window overlooking the pack grounds. His pack was thriving, strong warriors were training in the fields, women tending to the young ones, and the scent of dominance heavy in the air. This was his empire, his legacy.

He turned back to the council with a sharp gaze. “Send a message to Roshan. Remind him that if he values his life and the lives of his pack, he will stay within his borders. If he doesn’t, I’ll ensure he regrets every breath he’s ever taken.”

The council murmured their agreement, and Kaelen dismissed them with a wave of his hand. As they filed out, Dain and Daric lingered.

“You don’t think he’ll back down, do you?” Dain asked cautiously.

Kaelen smirked, his expression dripping with arrogance. “It doesn’t matter. If he doesn’t, it’ll be his funeral.”

“And you, Daric, you let them cross our borders,” Kaelen said, turning his attention to Daric, his tone cold and sharp. He wasn’t shouting, he did not need to because the weight of his words alone made his beta, Daric, flinch.

“It was an oversight, Alpha,” Daric stammered, his head bowed. “The patrol didn’t—”

Kaelen slammed his fist onto the table, cutting him off mid-sentence. “There are no oversights in my pack! Every failure puts us at risk. And I don’t tolerate risk.”

The room immediately became quiet as though a goddess had passed, the tension was so thick it was almost tangible.

Daric swallowed hard, avoiding Kaelen’s piercing gaze.

Kaelen rose from his seat, the scraping of the chair against the floor echoing ominously. “This isn’t just about a patrol,” he said, his voice deceptively calm now.

“It’s about weakness. And weakness, in this pack, is a disease. One that spreads if not dealt with swiftly .”

Daric barely nodded, His fear evident. Kaelen’s fingers tapped against the edge of the table as he paused behind the

beta’s chair. “You’re lucky I’m in a generous mood today,”

Kaelen said, his lips curling into a smirk. “But make no mistake, this is your last chance.”

Dain exhaled silently, relief mingling with unease. Kaelen returned to his seat, picking up a goblet of wine and sipping

it as if the exchange had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He signalled for the both of them to leave.

Later, as the room emptied, Kaelen remained seated, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. Power wasn’t just

something he held, it was woven into his very being. He had been born for this, raised to lead, and trained to crush anyone who stood in his way.

But it wasn’t enough, his father’s legacy loomed over him like a shadow, and he knew he had to solidify his position,

not just within the Northern pack but among all the packs in the region.

He needed a mate, a strong, powerful female who would amplify his dominance and secure his bloodline. His gaze hardened as he thought about it. He can’t shake off the fact that he has feelings for Isolde, a maid in his pack, but no,

not just any wolf would make a mate for him, especially not a weak wolf. The pack needed someone formidable,

someone worthy of standing beside him.

Weakness disgusted him. It was why he avoided the lingering glances of Isolde, the shy maid who worked quietly in the corners of his pack house. Her fragility reminded him of everything he despised Yet, there was something about her, something he refused to acknowledge

that made it impossible to ignore her completely.

Kaelen shook his head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. He had no time for distractions, especially not from

someone like her.

As night fell over the Northern packhouse, Kaelen stood on the balcony of his chambers, looking over the territory

that was his to rule. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the land.

He smirked to himself. No one could challenge him. No one would dare.

But deep in the shadows of the packhouse, a pair of quiet, admiring eyes followed his every move. Isolde, unnoticed

as always, watched him from a distance, her heart aching with a longing she didn't fully understand. She clutched the edges of her apron, wishing for a life that felt as unattainable as the moon itself.

Little did she know, her fate was already entwined with his, though it was a fate neither of them could yet foresee.