The Rejected Mate: Sold To Alpha Betmoth

The Council’s Verdict

The heavy scent of incense still lingered in the air when Beta Nath stepped into Loira’s chamber. The moment Sisi announced his arrival, Loira’s head snapped up from her pillow, her eyes red and damp from her earlier tears—or perhaps from practice.

“Let him in,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to sound pitiful.

Nath entered and bowed slightly. “My Lady,” he greeted, his tone respectful but laced with something deeper—something forbidden.

Loira sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief. “Beta Nath… you heard what happened to my poor sister, didn’t you?” she began, her voice breaking. “Celdric is furious. He wants to execute her.”

Nath frowned. “You wish to save her?”

She gave a tiny nod, lowering her gaze. “She is still my sister, after all…”

Her soft sobs filled the room, echoing off the golden walls. Sisi, moved by her mistress’s sorrow, stepped closer to hand her more tea. But Loira waved her off gently. “Go prepare the herbs the healer gave me. I’ll be fine here,” she murmured.

Once the maid bowed and disappeared through the door, Loira’s expression hardened. Her tears vanished like morning dew. The handkerchief she had been clutching was tossed aside.

Nath waited only a moment before crossing the room in silence. His hand brushed her cheek, and she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Their lips met, desperate and hungry, the kiss igniting a fire that burned beneath their carefully worn masks.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, Loira smiled—a cruel, knowing curve of her lips. “You were late,” she whispered.

“I came as soon as I could,” Nath replied, tracing her jawline. “What happened, Loira? Why end the pregnancy?”

Her smile faltered for a moment. “Elara suspected,” she said bitterly. “She nearly exposed me before the Alpha. I had no choice. If she had kept digging, everything we’ve worked for would’ve been ruined.”

Nath’s eyes darkened with fury. “That wretched girl… my child—our child—gone because of her meddling.” His fists clenched at his sides. “I’ll make her pay. I’ll make her suffer before she dies.”

Loira’s gaze gleamed with satisfaction. She gently placed a hand on his arm. “No, Nath. Not here. If she dies inside the pack, people will suspect. Celdric might even start questioning things. I want her banished. Let her rot outside these walls.”

Understanding flickered in his eyes. He nodded slowly, lips curving into a cold smile. “Then I’ll make sure the council convinces the Alpha to exile her. And when she steps one foot beyond our borders, my men will be waiting.”

Loira’s expression softened again, feigned sorrow washing over her features as she cupped his face. “You always understand me.”

Their lips met once more—slower this time, darker, sealing a promise soaked in deceit.

When Nath finally left, Loira reclined against her pillows, smirking. The act of the grieving sister had served its purpose. Soon, Elara would be gone forever.

And when that happened, Loira thought with quiet triumph, no one—not even the Moon Goddess—would stand in her way.

---

The council chamber smelled of old wood and wax. Long benches circled a raised stone table where the elders sat like weathered trees—each face lined with years of decisions and the weight of pack law.

When Alpha Celdric and Gamma Murphy stepped through the carved doors, every elder rose in respect. Celdric’s boots hit the floor with a sound that made the room hush; Murphy’s calm shadow fell like a cool breeze. They all settled back into their places, eyes fixed.

Celdric stood at the head of the table, jaw tight. “This meeting is called for one reason,” he said, his voice even but edged like a blade. “Elara poisoned Loira and killed my unborn child. I intend to execute her publicly—so every member of the pack sees justice done.”

A stunned silence followed. Then murmurs rose like wind through dry grass.

Old Elder Ren cleared his throat. “Alpha—she is your mate. Perhaps—perhaps she should be allowed to speak. Let her answer before you end her life.”

A younger elder, Merek, shook his head. “She’s always been bitter. Jealous of Loira. That anger could drive a woman to cruelty. The Moon favors the strong, not the weak-willed.” His voice was sharp; his meaning clear. He looked at Celdric with approval.

A low, angry sound left Celdric’s chest. “The Moon made a mistake choosing her!” he snapped. “She’s always been wrong for this place.” His hand slammed the table once. The elders flinched.

Gamma Murphy’s face stayed controlled. He watched Celdric with something like pain under his calm—he kept his hand clenched at his side, as if holding his temper in. No one spoke for a long moment.

Another elder, old Marta, spoke in a tired voice. “Elara has served the pack well in small duties, even if she is not yet Luna. We should weigh that.” Her words were careful, trying to steer the meeting away from a quick bloodletting.

Celdric’s lips tightened. “Loira,” he said coldly, “would do better. She is made for this.” His eyes flashed toward the empty place where Loira had sat during the morning’s scene. “I will not accept someone weak at my side.”

Murphy set his jaw and leaned forward. “Killing your mate now will fracture the pack,” he said quietly. “People will whisper. They will fear you instead of following you. We are already under strain—the Northern Pack’s raids have the borders restless. We cannot afford division.”

At that, the room shifted. The elders exchanged looks. Outside, the wind hissed against the stone, as if the world itself listened.

Footsteps echoed. The doors opened and Beta Nath bowed into the chamber. “Alpha. Elders. Sorry for my delay,” he said, sliding into his place with a respectful nod. His smile was small but steady.

Murphy’s eyes tracked him, then turned back to Celdric. Nath’s presence seemed to smooth the air.

Nath spoke up, voice calm. “Gamma Murphy is right. An uproar now will weaken us when we most need strength. The news from the borders grows darker every week. We must show unity.”

Celdric’s fury cooled like embers pushed under ash. He stared at Nath—then at the elders. “What do you propose?” he asked, the question almost a test.

Nath’s fingers rested lightly on the table. “Exile,” he said simply. “Banish Elara from the pack. Let her live outside the borders. If she dies beyond our walls, the deed will not stain the pack. We avoid blood on our hands, and we avoid division.”

Murmurs of agreement moved through the room like ripples. Some heads nodded; others hesitated, but the idea planted itself.

Old Ren rubbed his chin. “Banishment is less harsh, yet it spares the pack’s unity. It could work.”

Merek shrugged. “If she must go, let her go quietly.”

Celdric’s jaw worked. He ran a hand through his hair, the motion sharp and abrupt. His voice was low when he spoke next. “Very well. Banishment it is—until I decide otherwise.”

Gamma Murphy’s shoulders relaxed just a degree. He met Nath’s eye and gave the smallest of nods—approval, relief, something like warning.

The elders rose one by one to pronounce the sentence—formal words, the ring of law—but none of them saw the small, dark smile that played across Nath’s lips for only a heartbeat. None of them heard the quiet whisper he thought not a soul would catch: plans set in motion outside the pack, where other hands waited to finish what exile could not.

Celdric left the chamber with the verdict settled in his voice. The elders stayed behind, murmuring. Murphy’s hand hovered near his mouth, the strain clear in the tight lines of his face.

Outside, the wind rose. The pack’s fate took a new shape, carved by decisions made in a room of stone. Elara’s name was sealed. The sentence would be announced to the pack by nightfall.

And somewhere in the shadows, plots that had nothing to do with law and everything to do with power were already unfolding.