Page 13 of Rejected By The Alpha Heir

A small spark of joy makes its way into my heart as I hold the plate. I don’t want to overthink this, but it feels like a tiny step forward.

Maybe what Callie always saysistrue. The way to a male’s heart is through his stomach.

If that’s the case, I will cook for him as much as possible. Today could be the start of something new for us.

I crack eggs for the omelets and pop a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster before rummaging through the fridge.

It feels good to have a goal this morning, and I throw myself into my cooking.

Of all the different versions of Austin that I get to see, one of my favorites is in the early morning when he stumbles down the hallway in just his sweats, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, he forgets the tension between us for a brief second, and I get a sleepy smile or a good morning greeting. Every once in a while, we get to share a companionable silence over our morning cups of coffee, each lost to our own thoughts.

I live for those moments. They make me feel like there’s hope that our relationship will grow.

The toaster pops, and I hurry to butter both sides of the bread, just the way he likes it. The omelet slides easily from the pan to the plate, and I cut some tomatoes for garnish.

Perfect.

I’m practically bouncing with excitement for him to come and see what I’ve made him. I pour myself a cup of coffee and get started on loading the dishes in the dishwasher.

As I load the last cup, I look out the kitchen window and freeze, my heart dropping.

Austin’s motorcycle is missing from his normal parking spot. Drying my hands, I hurry over to the table by the front door.

His boots are gone too.

He must have left at the crack of dawn.

The thought dashes my mood to pieces, and I trudge back to the kitchen. Austin’s perfect plate is still waiting on the kitchen table.

I sit down heavily and sip at my coffee as I try to fight back tears.

At least he ate my dinner last night. That has to mean something. Right?

Chapter Five

Yelena

“And so, as we conclude these trials, we would like to welcome you as fully fledged members of the Nightwing Pack. May you find strength and belonging in our midst, and may your bond with your wolf deepen with each passing day,” Alpha Malaki’s voice booms through the forest clearing. The moon is shining high in the sky, bathing us all in her blessed light and adding an air of mysticism to the ancient ceremony. Our pack is growing, evidence that the Moon Goddess has truly smiled down on us.

We’ve gained three new members today, and it’s a truly joyous occasion. Two of the members have already found their Fated Mates within the Nightwing Pack. The addition of their Fated bonds to our numbers only strengthens our pack. The other new member is a rogue who has fought with us for the last year. His strength, cunning, and loyalty will be an asset to our warriors as we continue to defend our land against incursions from rivals like the Highland Pack.

As soon as Alpha Malaki steps down from the podium, the whole pack erupts into cheers and howls, rushing to welcome our new packmates. I watch as the new pack members are enveloped in hugs and cheers. They all stand tall and proud in the center of the clearing, surrounded by our pack.

Out of habit, I scan the crowd and locate Austin easily. He is laughing and smiling and it makes me smile too. I love seeing him like this, happy and carefree. I crane my neck to see who he’s with and my heart falls when I see that it’s one of the prettyyoung females that has made him laugh.

He’ll talk to new packmates, old packmates, even the kids, but he won’t talk to me.

A tendril of jealousy winds its way through me, making me clench my fists and stifle back a growl. Whether he wants it to be or not, we’re Fated, which means he’smine. I don’t like seeing him with other females, even though I know it’s part of his job to talk to everyone in the pack.

The progress I had hoped we achieved with my small dinner win last week is long gone. Austin has been cold and distant every day since. I’ve even taken to making his favorite breakfast pastries every afternoon and leaving them out for him each morning, but he’s not said a single word about it.

It’s made my inner turmoil reach a fever pitch. I’ve been torn between continuing to tolerate his icy demeanor and confronting him in an effort to try and understand why he subjects me to such disregard.

At this point, I want a reason. Ineedone. His mood swings are emotionally exhausting, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep on doing this.

“Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it,” Callie says, coming up behind me. Her unexpected presence makes me stumble.

“Why? Did you have a vision?” I ask her anxiously.

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