Goldentreee

“He rejected me in front of the entire pack… because she stole my scent.”

Nobody wants a rejected Omega.

Ayla Riverwinddoesn’t care anymore. She's done waiting for fate. As Northmoon Pack’s healer, she’s content in the shadows—until the day her world burns.

Her best friend, ‘Cassia’, uses forbidden scentbinding magic to steal Ayla’s identity and claim her mate—high-ranking Alpha ‘Darius’—as her own. Publicly rejected, shackled in silver, and tortured with wolfsbane, Ayla is cast into a dungeon and marked feral. The rejection was meant to break her.

Instead, it awakens something ancient inside her. When she escapes into the Outlands, Ayla meets ‘Rylan Stormblade’—a rogue healer with secrets carved into his skin and knowledge of a lost ritual that may restore her scent... or kill her.

But Ayla’s scent is no longer just hers. It burns through the bond realm, ripping through the senses of one wolf in particular—’Kael Valerius’, the Alpha King. His wolf goes feral when her scent touches the wind, but he already has a Luna.

Now hunted by Alphas who want her dead, claimed by a King she doesn’t trust, and stalked by a prophecy that says “the next Luna will break the throne or bless it”, Ayla must rise—not as someone’s mate…but as the Luna they tried to erase.

Rejected By The Alpha, Desired By The King

The gate didn't open with a sound, it tore.

Like fabric too tight around a wound, like breath held too long. The air folded backward and the world behind it bled into view—darker than void, quieter than silence.

Callen was in there. Somewhere. And if this was the price of choosing myself, then I'd pay it twice.

But I stepped forward anyway. The ash under my boots felt damp. Wrong. And when I crossed the threshold, everything snapped cold.

Just pressure—like a thousand memories pressing into the back of my skull, trying to force me to forget myself.

I saw the last thing she'd touched: the silver spiral on her wrist, unraveling.

Kael followed, eyes sharp. He didn't ask what I was feeling.

He didn't have to. He felt it too.

This place hated wolves. Not out of malice—Out of memory.

39: THE GATE THAT BLEEDS